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Author's Chapter Notes:
AO Adult Only, Angst, Blood Play, ViolenceBallroom Blitz
Chapter Five
Aurelia Carlisle

*RECAP*
"What are you doing here?"

"I think you know very well what I'm doing here. Finishing what you started."

"Spike, I... just kiss me," he obliged her, kissing her softly, trailing up her neck to her lips. She pushed him to arms length and looked him in the eyes.

"I'm ready. I want this," she brought her hand to graze his cheek. "I want you."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike did not think twice before diving into Buffy’s kiss. If I’d known she’d respond so well to my sneakin’ in, I’d have told her long ago.

She reacted to his touch with swift fingers untying her pajama bottoms. They broke apart to pull off his shirt then came back together with renewed fervor, as if making up for the lost moments. He nudged her thigh with his erection and they moaned in unison at the contact. She tugged his belt apart urgently and he ripped off the offending article blocking her wetness from him, throwing them over his shoulder for good measure.

He trailed long, sweet open-mouthed kisses from her chest to her earlobe and teased her nipples with his rough fingertips. She whimpered and ground her hips against him. He felt to evidence of her need on his thigh and began teasing her folds.

“Oh God,” she moaned and rose her pelvis, meeting in time with his hand. It had been so long, too long, since she felt this alive. She locked her eyes onto his and saw such emotion in their blue depths. He thrust his fingers into her heat once more and she came, muffling her scream on his lips. He gently pulled away to gage her expression, measuring her reaction. She looked and sated: not off-put in the least. She shifted their weight, pulling him underneath him with her legs. Positioning him at her entrance she kissed him with as much zeal as she could muster…then sank down onto him.

“Guh,” he groaned, almost dizzy from the sensation of her writhing on top of him. In all his years of sexual experience, this was his first one with a human, let alone a slayer. He had only imagined in his wildest fantasies that Buffy would let him this close to her. The moved together to a fast and hard rhythm akin to the punk music he enjoyed, punctuating with breathy moans and whimpers.

Buffy felt him bringing her closer to the edge of sweet oblivion and bared her neck, shocking Spike so that he nearly stilled.

“Do it,” she whispered. He leaned up slowly, hesitant, and then licked her neck on the unscarred side. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he sunk his sharp canines into her jugular. She came hard with a shuttering gasp from her lips “Yours.” The words rolled off her tongue of their own volition.

“Yours,” He echoed his voice thick with passion, her salty blood swimming down his throat. After a few minutes of basking in her residual warmth he pulled out.
“Buffy we-“but she was already taken by a dreamless sleep. He knew he should wake her, rush them both to Giles and try to reverse it. He was such a git; she was going to kill him when she found out. No more empty threats or heated banter; she would literally riddle his chest with splintering death.

He grabbed his clothes and nearly fell as he jerked on his jeans, catching himself on the bed. He wasn’t ready for his end. Then why tell her? After all, he thought closing her window behind him, what the slayer doesn’t know won’t kill me.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Kill me now, Janice.” Dawn sat on her bed the next morning before school. “You will never guess what I overheard in my sister’s room last night.” She made a face, annoyed when her friend answered correctly on her first try. “Well…yeah, but her boyfriend just left. Is this what rebound looks like? She hates him, can’t shut up about he’s a soulless monster blahty blahty blah.” Janice assured her on the other end that she probably just had a very vivid dream or that…ew, maybe she had been alone in the next room.

“Whatever happened, patrol will be so awkward for them tonight… No, not patrol um… yeah petroleum.”

------------------

Blood splatters on the wood paneled walls accompanying the shrill cries of its recent host. Smoke billows in the air around her as she strains to find oxygen. Soon she realizes her lungs will not contract and the lack of air does not choke her.

“I love what you’ve done with your hair, love,” a familiar voice drawls behind her. She turns to see Spike, his arms leaden with the weight of a young ginger-haired woman. Her throat is a massive gaping wound, pulse pushing the last few pints of blood from her quaking body.
“That shade is so fetching on you,” he says, dropping the girl’s dead weight.

She turns away quickly something drips into her eye from her forehead. Bringing her hand up, she screams when more blood runs down her face like scarlet tears. Her other arm is being pulled. She looks down into the girls’ blank eyes, lids flicking. One word brings a scream from her own throat.

“Sire…”

Buffy woke to the sound her of her ragged breathing. Her dream had seemed, felt too real. She climbed out of bed and walked over to her closet before she started to feel how cold her room was… and discovered the extent of her undress. She must have taken them off in her half-asleep state the night before, she assured herself. There was no other reason for her nocturnal nudity…

Shaking off her shivers she took out a sweater dress with a turtle neck and shrugged it on, not bothering to check the mirror.

--------------------

“How’d you sleep last night, love?” Spike’s voice startled her as he joined her from behind a mausoleum.
Her face and voice bewildered, she refused to let the pest know she was off her game. “Fine. Let’s not talk about me.” She sped up her steps, trying to keep her distance. He gave her suspicious vibes, like he was up to something: that was never good news.

“I’m touched, slayer; it’s good to hear you care.” The sarcasm came off him in waves.

“On second thought, how about we don’t talk at all.” Her tone told him all he needed to know: the memory spell had worked.


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