Should it take this long for her to awaken? To have preternatural life soar through her reanimated limbs so that he may never have to spend another night walking through the darkened streets alone? Spike’s face was creased with worry as he fussed over her, searching hopefully for any signs of stirring. He’d never brought anyone over, never allowed another to willingly feed off his blood and bring them across to the proverbial dark side. Had he completed the task correctly? Had she fed from him long enough, taken enough blood to allow the demon to grow and emerge? How long would she remain a corpse in his bed?
Straightening his body, Spike cracked his neck from side to side in hopes of relieving some of the tension built there. When no relief came, he sighed heavily and clenched his eyes tightly in frustration. He was weak with hunger and the pain radiating through his body was so fierce that he could no longer ignore it. The blood he’d taken from her willing body no longer provided the sustenance he needed to live. His stomach clenched with pain, the desire to feed growing stronger the longer he waited. His fangs tingled with the ache to delve into the warm, supple flesh of his next victim; willing or not. Spike closed his eyes in anticipation and imagined the scorching heat of blood filling his mouth, coating his tongue with a delicious tang before slipping down his throat to settle in his awaiting stomach and finally satiating the pain that filled his body.
Glancing down at the slip of woman in his bed, Spike knew he couldn’t wait any longer. She’d need to feed if…no, when she woke up. He’d be the logical choice until it was safe to take her out into the world to hunt prey as he did. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a brief flash of his past flickered and Spike smiled softly as he remembered his first feeding. The pale column of Drusilla’s neck, soft and smooth, as he plunged his newborn fangs deep into the vein that held the warm blood of her victims before his wakening. Not wanting his beloved Buffy to feel any more pain than necessary, he made the decision and slid off the bed, dressing quickly in his typical attire of black pants and shirt before slipping out of the apartment in search of food.
The sun hung low in the sky, barely stretching above the horizon in a vibrant swirl of blues, purples and pinks as Spike crossed the threshold when he finally returned to his temporary home. Shrugging out of the black leather duster that he’d worn faithfully for over a century, he casually tossed it over the back of a nearby chair and headed straight for his bedroom; his withered heart figuratively in the back of his throat. Nervousness flooded his body as he forced his feet to carry him down the pitch black corridor, fear curdled in his satiated belly as images of her still frozen corpse flashed in his mind, making something as simple as opening the bedroom door the single hardest action he’d taken in years. Shaking with anxiety, Spike reached out his hand, wrapped it around the cool doorknob and eased the door open with an aching slowness.
Peering inside the darkened room, the heavy black drapes closed to keep out the early morning light, an unneeded breath hitched in Spike’s chest as his supernatural abilities detected movement from across the room. Hope flared deep inside as he reached out a trembling hand to flick on a nearby light, illuminating the room in a soft golden glow and bringing with it the most beautiful sight he could wish for…Buffy.
He crossed the room quickly, inhumane speed allowing his body to shoot forth and take her in his arms in a matter of seconds. Her pale, nude form trembled in his arms, weeping quietly into his chest and soaking the dark material of his shirt in her salty tears. Tentatively, he reached up and cupped the back of her head in his hand, stroking the golden tresses with the utmost of care as he placed a soft kiss to her temple. “Sshh, kitten…Spike’s got you now. Everything’s going to be all right, yeah?”
Buffy desperately wanted to reply to his kindness, his softly spoken words of safety and gentle caresses of comfort. Instead, her words spilled out of her mouth in a jumble of incoherent mumbles and hiccups, which were a downside to the tears of gratitude that spilled down over her cheeks. Hope filled her dead heart as she realized that the weight that had hung heavily on her shoulders had been lifted and she was truly saved from the horrid death the cancer had in store for her. She could live, albeit she was now confined to spend that life hidden away in the shadows of night, but she had also been given the chance to experience a life that she never would have known had she not been rescued by Spike.
Buffy tried to pull out of his arms, but only succeeded in inching her way further into his lap until she was cradled in his strong embrace. Cuddled against him, she buried her face in his neck, inhaling the tantalizing scent that was purely Spike; a heady combination of innate maleness, cigarettes and leather that was laced with a new smell that lingered there. Unconsciously, she tightened her hold on him, her tiny fingers pressed into the silkiness of his shirt, her nails bit deeply into his skin as she dug in and pulled him tight against her body. Sniffing along his neck, she followed the faint blue line of his vein that glowed beneath the pale flesh and lost herself in the delicious scent that seduced the demon that now lived deep inside her.
Spike’s body tensed when he sensed the change in Buffy; that minute switch from sweet, trembling girl to freshly risen fledgling in search of dinner. Raising his hands higher, moving them from the light hold around her waist, he grasped her shoulders and was surprised at her strength as she resisted being stopped from her pursuits. Using more of his strength, he pulled her away and was greeted with a fierce expression in her still green eyes and a deep growl of frustration. In spite of the situation, Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics. His laughter quickly died in his throat when she all but snarled at him in rage, slipping easily into her demonic visage and snapping at him hungrily with razor sharp fangs. Pulling back out of her reach, he calmly said, “Easy there, kitten! I didn’t mean to piss you off, just couldn’t stop myself from laughing. You’re just too bloody adorable!”
With a quizzical gleam in her fiery amber gaze, Buffy cocked her head slightly to the side and glared at Spike. She recognized him, his scent, his touch, his beautiful azure eyes, but her body ached with the burning pain of hunger, causing her mind to reel and distort her surroundings. She wanted nothing more than to sink her fangs into the slim column of his neck, rip out that cool flesh and feast upon the rich, tangy blood that waited deep inside, yet there was a nagging sensation that warned her Spike wasn’t food, that their kind wasn’t what her taste buds longed for. Sighing loudly to show him she was exasperated, Buffy poked out her bottom lip and pouted like a petulant child sent to bed without dessert. “But I’m hungry!”
“I know you are, luv.” Spike replied softly, “And your patience will be rewarded, but I need to show you what to do before you feed.” Tilting his head to the side, giving her a wide berth and clear view of his jugular, he pulled one hand away from the cool skin of her shoulder and pointed to the soft skin where she would feed. “See the thick vein? That’s what you need to aim for, gently…no need to cause any unnecessary pain, yeah?”
“But, I thought I was supposed to like go out for…dinner?” She asked, confused and clearly at a loss for words over what to call the actual feeding process. “I mean, that’s what you were gonna do to me, right? So why aren’t you taking me out?”
“Mainly, and most importantly, because it’s daylight and we’d both be piles of dust shortly after walking out the door, but I promise to take you out later tonight. Right now, you need to learn how to feed, because I imagine you’re feeling a bit peckish, yeah? And, then, maybe draw a hot bubble bath for you to relax in for a bit?” He watched in pleasure as her face lit up with happiness at his suggestions, momentarily placated with the promise of the hunt and a leisurely bath after dinner, and wondered how he’d managed to wander the earth for so many years without her.
Fourteen Years Later…
Spike lounged in the corner of the dimly lit hotel room, draped across the cheap fabric and idly puffed on a cigarette as he watched her with lust filled eyes. Their eyes connected, her green orbs burning deep inside his body, setting it on fire with the passion that filled the gaze. Instantly hardened with desire, he stubbed out the cigarette and licked his lips with anticipation when she motioned to him to join her. Wasting no time, he pushed out of the chair and crossed the room swiftly; shedding what little clothes he had on, his eyes never wavering from the writhing bodies that spilled across the crumpled bed.
Their conquest for the night gasped in surprise when he crawled onto the bed with them. Her curvaceous, tanned body burned between their cool flesh, her heavy breasts pressed against Buffy’s chest as the girl leaned into Buffy’s embrace. An intoxicated giggle escaped her when his arms snaked around her waist, his hands settling on his love’s hips to draw them both back towards him. Their beautiful prey sighed with desire as two sets of hands caressed her heated flesh. She wriggled against him and pressed the curve of her supple ass against his hardened length.
Spike gazed around the nameless woman, his amber eyes solely focused on the blonde across from him and smiled wickedly as she slipped into her demonic features. With the woman sandwiched between their bodies, they simultaneously lowered their heads to either side of their victim’s neck, licking and nipping lightly at the delicate skin at, eliciting breathy moans of ecstasy from the woman in their grasp. Striking suddenly, their fangs plunged deep within in the curves of her neck, pulling heartily on the rich, vibrant blood that spilled heavily into their awaiting mouths until finally, there was no more. The once life-filled beauty was drained, limp in their arms for a brief second before tossed aside, forgotten in death.
Full of stolen life, borrowed blood warmed their cool flesh, and flushed their pale skin with a rosy hue. Spike pulled her to him, lowered his face to hers and slowly, teasingly licked the last vestiges of blood from her full lips and relished in the feel of her body trembling in his arms. He easily lifted her from the bed, settling her eager body above his and plunged deep within her core, already wet and ready for him. Their bodies moved swiftly, thrusting against one another in a heated struggle to release the energy that radiated inside. Her nails raked painfully across his back, leaving a bloody trail in their wake as she cried out, her body shattering around his cock as she shook with release. Smashing his lips to hers, Spike thrust quickly, tearing into her body with an earth shattering quake and filled her with his cold, dead seed.
They fell to the side, their limbs tangled and twisted around one another; limp and completely satiated. Spike kissed her neck, the soft spot just below her ear and murmured sweet words of endearment, before pulling back to gaze into her once again green, human eyes. Fourteen years had passed, she should have been turning forty this year and yet, she remained the same as when he’d found her; fresh faced with the innocence of youth and cursed with a deadly fate. Gazing down at his love, the tiny slip of a woman that shared his craving for sex, violence and an unquenchable bloodlust, Spike leaned in and brushed feather light kiss on the lips and smiled contentedly as he thought about the rest of eternity…together.