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Author's Chapter Notes:
Many Many thanks to Dusty273 and Im_Bloody_English for being the lovely butchers that they are - this story is now much better than it was and I couldn't have done it without you. You gals ROCK! *Dialogue from CRUSH BTVS season 5.*

I will be posting a GOD and Xander chapter next on HB before I update this anymore - cause God was kinda pissed that I hadn't mentioned him in a couple chapters.

There are two songs in this chapter:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZddADvOwzo&feature=related

and

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sv-KGMDpEEs

**Tissue warning** For those who are so sweet at heart (you know who you are) there is a possibility you might become teary eyed. I'm a bad rude woman and I practically bawled as I wrote this - even the second time around. *sniff* Enjoy :D
“What’s going on?”

“Simple. I’m gonna prove something. I love you,” Spike said, rather proudly.

“Oh my God!” Buffy gagged, turning her head away from the sight of Spike standing in front of her, and Drusilla chained up to a post in the cave.

“No, look at me,” Spike growled, as he grabbed hold of Buffy’s chin and forced her eyes to meet his. “I love you. You’re all I bloody think about! Dream about. You’re in my gut…my throat. I’m drowning in you, Summers…I’m drowning in you.”

Drusilla sent up an insane cackle at that moment, smiling widely because she had known…known for much longer than the vampire who wore his emotions on his sleeve.

“I can do without the laugh track, Dru,” Spike snarled as he looked over his shoulder at his sire.

Drusilla smirked. “But it’s so funny! I knew…before you did. I knew you loved the Slayer. The pixies in my head whispered it to me.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to gaze longingly at Buffy. “You can’t tell me that there isn’t anything there between you and me. I know you feel something!”

Buffy frowned so hard she thought her face would break. “It’s called revulsion,” she spat. “And whatever you think you’re feeling it’s not love. You can’t love without a soul!”

Drusilla felt the need to correct the naïve Slayer. “Oh we can, you know,” she whispered, a haunted look in her eyes. “We can love quite well, if not wisely.”

Buffy startled, waking up in the cold bathwater, clutching the side of the tub in panic. Her breathing was coming in gasps and pants, her insides aching from the lingering dream. She felt hot tears making their way down her cheeks, giving in to the emotions bombarding her from all sides. She put her hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs, but it didn’t help.

It was as if she were experiencing that whole thing over again, except this time she was Spike. This time, she felt the rejection, the frustration…the heartbreak. When Drusilla imparted those words of wisdom about vampires being able to love, something broke inside Buffy. And she knew that Dru was quite lucid in that moment, glimpsing at the haunted far away gaze…the pain of which she spoke from experience. Who had she chosen to love unwisely? Spike? No…Spike was her protector, her hero, as he always seemed to be for the ones that he loved. No, Buffy knew who it was. The one who’d made her as crazy as she still remained. Angel… or rather, Angelus.

Starting to shiver, she got out the bathwater and wrapped herself in a big fluffy towel, uncomfortable with the sensations it was causing on her skin. Some of the candles had gutted out, so she extinguished the rest and moved to her room, towel drying her hair as she walked.

Willow and Tara still lived at the house with her, having taken Joyce’s bedroom as their own. But they were at a Wiccan retreat and wouldn’t return until tomorrow, so Buffy had the house all to herself, at least for the night. No noises…no Dawn…no nagging friends who kept asking you, ‘Does your head hurt? Is that too loud? Are you all right?’ She wanted to scream from all their concern.

After drying her hair, she slipped on her yummy sushi pajamas and sat down at her vanity, looking in the mirror at her reflection. She frowned heavily at the face staring back at her. The image had dark circles under her eyes and hollowed out cheeks, a pasty complexion rounding out the look of death that hung over her. She picked up a heavy gilt brush, which was an antique that once belonged to her grandmother, and started brushing the limp strands, uncaring if she got all the tangles out. She continued to brush her hair for a long while, never really seeing her image anymore, numb to all that she was experiencing.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed until she looked at the clock, noticing she’d been sitting there just staring at her reflection for over an hour. She sighed and rubbed her forehead, wondering if anything could help her sleep…or keep her from dreaming for that matter. Thinking back, Tara had told her that music often helped her find her focus, so she thought she might give it a try.

She didn’t have such a great selection in her room, so she pilfered something from Dawn’s collection, taking several CDs with her. Once she returned to her room, she glanced at the covers until she came to one that had a picture of a woman on the front with blue and black overtones. She recoiled instinctively and not without a fair amount of jealousy attached to it. God, this woman looks just like Drusilla!

It’s always good to try new things. How will you learn if you like them or not? Joyce’s voice flitted through her mind when she set the CD aside, never to be played.

Ugh, mom! Drusilla? Fine…but only because you forced me to! Buffy reasoned with herself. She popped the CD in her little stereo and hit ‘random play’ as the option, returning to her vanity to continue brushing her hair.

I’m so tired of being here…
Suppressed by all of my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Because your presence still lingers here
And it won’t leave me alone…

Buffy’s hand stilled as the haunted and pained voice floated through the air, straight towards her heart.

These wounds won’t seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There’s just too much that time cannot erase…

Her lips quivered so badly, tears filling her eyes once more. The lonely piano coupled with the aching female voice caused her to start shaking all over.

When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears
When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears
And I’ve held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me…

Uncontrollable sobs wracked her thin frame as she curled into a ball on her vanity bench. Gasping, wretched grief poured out of her as if something had given her permission to feel again.

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
But now I’m bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me…

I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone
And though you’re still with me
I’ve been alone all along.

“Shh, pet…I got ya.”

Strong arms wrapped themselves around Buffy’s body and lifted her from the bench, cradling her against a familiar form. She didn’t care that he was in her room; all she cared about was never leaving his embrace again.

Hearing the music, Spike kicked the plug to her stereo free from the socket and muttered, “Soddin’ vamp crap.”

Buffy never registered that the music stopped, only that she was being held by Spike, clutching the lapels of his duster in a death grip. He pulled her shaking body closer to his and nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent and trying to prevent himself from crying as well. She felt so broken in his arms, his little Slayer. Something had changed from last night to this one and he was determined to find out what it was.

~~~*~~~

Last night, as Spike was making his way back home from the Slayer’s, something happened. Something had pulled at him, inside his chest, making him double over in shock from the awareness tingling throughout his body. It felt like someone tugging a thread through his skin to stitch up a gaping wound, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, quite the contrary. It felt as if he were now connected to someone or something, he just wasn’t quite sure which. He didn’t figure out what ‘it’ was until the awareness subsided into a slight hum that was peaceful inside him, like someone was asleep. What the Hell! What the fuck is going on here?

He tried to sleep, but thoughts of the Slayer sensually slid in and out of his conscious all night long, making sleep virtually impossible. At one point, he even gave into the fantasies that were clouding his mind, touching ‘her’ in his dreams the way he knew she would like. It was as if he had tapped into a one-way current, her thoughts and feelings opening to him, her essence singing through his veins.

He awoke that morning with his sheets sticky from his nocturnal spendings and he ripped the sheets off the bed as he groused about not having a ‘good shag’ since…well… He couldn’t really say, as Harmony prattled too much and killed whatever good will he might have had towards her. Dru was always unfaithful and his love for her as a childe to a sire just wasn’t the same. It should only be about blood, sex and violence to normal vamps. But then again, William the Bloody was never a normal vamp.

Spike paced his crypt all day long, itching to get back to the Slayer. He’d realized it was Buffy that had a connection to him last night when he heard her sweet voice whisper his name, pleading for something in abject misery. He was gob-smacked, confused beyond belief as to the how’s and why’s of the bond and had to physically restrain himself from going to her because he really didn’t fancy another broken nose.

The pull became too much towards the evening of the next day, though, and he left his crypt as soon as he wouldn’t end up burnt to a crispy critter. He watched from the shadows as Dawn was picked up by Buffy’s father, suitcase in hand. Buffy’s alone tonight – not good. Best keep an eye on her then, he reasoned and perched himself in the tree just outside of her bedroom window, keeping to the shadows.

He’d watched her as she brushed her hair, the scent of lavender and Slayer drifting out the open window to assault his already overwhelmed senses. He’d seen her stare off into space for a least an hour, finally coming out of the trance-like state just as he thought about entering, the thread pulling tighter with each passing moment.

He’d said ‘to Hell with it’ though, when Buffy began her uncontrollable sobbing and curled into a fetal position on the small bench. The bond vibrated stronger than the music playing, forcing him to act on its behalf. He climbed through the window and scooped up her trembling form, cradling her against his chest and cooing softly in her ear. He would expect retaliation tomorrow, but Buffy was in no condition to take care of herself tonight.

Spying an old rocking chair in the corner, Spike carried his slight burden and sat down with her on his lap, rocking and stroking her hair. “Buffy, honey? Tell me what’s got you so upset, love,” he mumbled against her damp forehead.

Her sobs turned into a keening wail and Spike became truly afraid that she’d been in this state so long that she couldn’t be brought back. “Love, you need to talk to me!” he said a little more forcefully this time. The bond felt like a massive orchestra resonating within his chest and he sensed what must have been her soul shattering. He had to get through to her, to stop the pain that was flooding her and filtering over to him as well.

Again she said nothing, her sobs drowning out anything he could say. So he reached out by touch, rubbing slow circles on her lower back as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek and hairline, hoping she would realize she was in a safe place and return from wherever she was. Buffy’s forehead was buried in his right shoulder, his t-shirt growing wet with her tears as he gently stroked her damp tresses and rocked the chair. Her body slowly stopped shaking once he began to hum softly as he laid his cheek on top of her head. He then remembered a lullaby he’d heard in the 40’s from some silly movie about flying elephants and began to sing tenderly.

Baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
never to part, baby of mine.

Little one, when you play,
pay no heed what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
never a tear, baby of mine.

If they knew all about you,
they'd end up loving you, too.
All those same people who scold you,
what they'd give just for the right to hold you.

From your hair down to your toes,
you're not much, goodness knows.
But, you're so precious to me,
sweet as can be, baby of mine.

Spike stopped once the pull was reduced to a subtle ‘twang’ and Buffy had quieted, sniffling every now and then. “Love? You here with me?” he whispered into her hair.

She lifted her red rimmed, swollen eyes to his worried ones and lightly swept his lower lip with her fingers before whispering, “Spike… (hiccup) thank you.” Wearily, she leaned her forehead against his and let out a heavy sigh.

“S’ok, Slayer. Wasn’t like I was doing anything important when I happened by,” he teased and relaxed when she tentatively smiled. But his worry didn’t completely abate as he assessed her pallor with increasing fear. “We need to talk, Buffy.”

“I’m s-so tired…could we do it later? I’m so c-cold,” her teeth chattered and Spike could feel her body begin to shiver.

He leaned down and picked up a quilt that was near the rocker and wrapped it around them both as she settled deeper into his embrace. He rubbed her arms and hoped the friction would produce some warmth. “Don’t think it can wait, Slayer. It might be affecting you right now,” he warned.

But she didn’t hear him. “S…Spp…Spike,” her voice stuttered uncontrollably. “Ssssomethings wwrong with mmmme!” She couldn’t stop her speech from slurring and looked up at him with panic in her eyes. “Helppp meee pppplease!” she cried.

He closed his eyes in panic, trying to draw on all his training from his human days as a medical student, praying it would be enough to help the woman he loved. Gripping her biceps, he pulled her up and shook her a bit to get her to focus. “Pet? Buffy, you’ve got to listen to me and you have to understand, you hear?” She nodded weakly as trembles overcame her body.

Pulling her face close, he looked her straight in the eyes. “You and I have a connection.” He posed it as a statement, not a question. “That only happens if we share blood. And I know I haven’t had the pleasure of taking a sip, so you need to tell me what’s going on. Do you have my blood in your system?”

Her eyes darted away from his intense gaze and Spike knew she was considering lying to him. He gave her a little shake to dissuade her, knowing she couldn’t mislead him about this as he glared at her hard.
She paled at being caught in an attempt to deceive him. “Lasttt nnnight, aff…after you lleft,” she pushed between her lips; shame and embarrassment filling her as she continued, “Ttthere were a ffew drops on the cccounter… fffrom your nnnose.”

Spike stared at her in shocked silence. He was beyond flabbergasted, never figuring ‘his’ Slayer as one who would be curious enough to ‘taste’ vamp blood. He’d heard of a human or two and an occasional Slayer taking a nip, either by accident or on purpose, and they’d ended up having enhanced abilities. But Buffy? Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed at this scenario.

He didn’t know how much of his blood he’d left on the counter but it must have been a sizable amount to produce this reaction within her. It explained the bond and everything he experienced from it. It gave them both wild and intense dreams and allowed for him to feel what she was feeling. He didn’t know all of the side affects of a small ingestion, so he was in new territory, hoping the Slayer remained just as she was. The more immediate problem, however, was Buffy’s pallor. She was as white as a sheet and her lips had taken on a blue tint.

Buffy turned around on his lap and straddled his thighs, still shivering. Her head began to loll to the side and Spike steadied her face between his palms. She stared at him, not really seeing him, caught in some foggy haze. Her breathing became increasingly shallow and she started to claw at her throat as if she were drowning.

Now Spike was well and truly scared. “Buffy, baby…I don’t know what to do!”

Suddenly, her eyes went wide and she wrapped her fists in his t-shirt, tensing as her breathing became so labored that she began gasping for air. Then she screamed in agony as the blood vessels in her temple bulged from the pressure.

“Buffy!” he yelled as he held her cheeks between his cool hands.

Her face took on a confused quality right before she fell limp in his arms, her chest ceasing to rise.

“Don’t you dare do this to me, Buffy!” he roared and began pounding on her chest, his fear growing because the chip never fired as his fists hit her still body. “Breathe, damn it, Slayer!”

Nothing. Then suddenly, a gasping breath shook through her and she lurched forward, falling once again into his arms.

“Bloody hell, pet!” he ground out, clasping her tightly to his chest. He heard her heartbeat slowly come back to normal and felt her relax against him.

She was dripping with sweat now, her skin flushed with heat as she tried to get closer to his cool flesh, seeking some relief. “Ugh, Spike… I feel like…like I’ve been hit by a truck. Did you get the license plate number?” she asked as she licked her dry lips.

Spike was too shaken to respond. He just kept brushing back the damp strands of her hair and tucking them behind her tiny ears, giving her a watery smile as he tried to keep his tears from falling.

She cocked her head to the side and gazed at the trembling vampire. She ghosted her fingertips over his high cheekbones and frowned. “I feel…really strange. What the hell happened to me?”

“S’all your fault, Slayer,” he said gently. “Apparently I was a little too tempting and you indulged in somethin’ that’s usually reserved for claiming and turning and… uhmm, well, we won’t go there.” He swallowed the rest of his statement as he took in her horrified look.

“What’s happened to me? Am I a vampire now?”

A sad moment passed over his eyes then flitted away. “No dearest, not a vampire. You didn’t take enough for a full transfer so no; you’re not a vampire. But…you did take a drop or two, and you can’t escape that, pet. You’re still the same pain-in-my-arse Slayer, just…well, somethin’ that’s better. Even I don’t know what you’re capable of now.”

She nodded then looked away, her posture becoming rigid. Spike closed his eyes and sighed. Chit’s gonna go barmy if she doesn’t figure out what the hell she can do. “Let’s see…” he said hesitantly. “Close your eyes and listen…tell me what you hear.” He gently brushed his fingertips over her lids until they were lowered.

Buffy relaxed and listened. Really listened. Her mouth fell open with a small gasp and a smile blossomed on her face. She could hear a couple arguing five streets over, listening to them argue about the man taking out the trash. The normally silent wings of the owl in Sunnydale’s zoo sounded so loud in her sensitive ears that she bit her lip to contain her excitement. She then focused on her own heartbeat and opened her eyes to see Spike gazing at her tenderly.

Shyly, she ducked her head and started fidgeting with some loose threads from the quilt that still covered them. He laid a hand over hers and softly murmured, “Pet, you need your sleep…remember, Big Bads are always on the horizon. Can’t have you kipping on the job.”

She nodded and yawned widely as she situated herself in his lap to where they were both comfortable, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket. “You’ll stay?” she asked, uncertain if he wanted to be near her after what happened.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m still here, aren’t I? `M not going anywhere, Buffy,” he whispered. “We’ll find out tomorrow what else you can do, yeah?”

She mumbled something unintelligible and he took it as her assent, her small form snuggling closer to his chest. Hearing her heartbeat slow to an even pace as sleep came to claim them both, the bond pulled him into her dreams once more as he settled in for a long night with his lady-love in his arms.


Chapter End Notes:
Even MORE consequences of Buffy's little indulgence!



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