Two days passed, Spike continued to search for Angelus to no avail. Vengeance and wrath infiltrated every movement, every thought, every fiber of his being.
While the sun was present he would scour the underground. Utilizing the sewers, he entered all local demon hideouts, questioning all in his path. Those that did not willingly relay information, Spike unleashed his fury upon their bodies, death was the only other option to answering his queries.
Once the sun placed its kisses upon the horizon, Spike would resume his search through the streets of Sunnydale. Neither beast, nor man was safe. All those having the misfortune to cross his path, succumbed to his acrimony.
Spike refused to sleep or feed. He believed that abstinence from these luxuries was penance for his failure to protect his mate. He continued to fight, as he felt his alabaster flesh, mold further around his bones. The constant gnaw of hunger within his gut resounded in protest.
At regular intervals Spike would update Giles, and the others of his findings. The trio continued to scour books and the streets during daylight hours. All held hope with their joint efforts, Buffy would be located.
In addition to the mystical world, Giles dealt with the human world as well. Excuses for her lack of attendance to school were made. On Friday, Giles planned to file a missing persons report with the Sunnydale Police Department. All tried to prepare for Joyce’s return home on Saturday, to find her only daughter missing.
Each day that passed, despite the other’s words of hope, one by one, each started to accept the inevitable. They began to mourn her passing. Spike refused. Without confirmation, he refused to believe that his mate was gone. Once his mind started down that path, devastation and a one-way trip into the sun’s rays, were next.
Thursday…as the dawn spilled over the horizon, Spike’s heavy shod feet, sloshed through the filthy waters of the rat-infested sewers. Each tunnel of the underground maze, held his scent. Hours upon hours he searched with the same outcome. Howls of frustration reverberated throughout the dampened stone walls, realization seeped within his mind…he’d searched everywhere and nothing.
Tears welled and hovered upon the rims of his golden eyes. As if a powerful dam was released, gut-wrenching sobs tore from his throat. His leather encased back, slammed forcefully upon the wall. The stone crumbled beneath his form, he leaned heavily for support. In an instant, his fury renewed. Spike swirled, met his granite brace, striking violent blows with his feet and hands. Pain blossomed with every strike, but his brutality never faltered.
Tears and sorrow overwhelmed him once more. Upon another demonic wail, a single word that hadn’t breached his lips in days, tumbled forward… b>“Buffy!”
Despite being surrounded by walls of stone, Spike sensed when night approached. As he hauled his battered and weary form from the underground tunnels, another creature stirred as well.
**** **** ****
He sensed another presence rousing as well…his new toy…Buffy. Unabashed with his nudity, he stalked across the floor, toward the hidden staircase that lay behind his chamber walls. Just as in the movies, with a shift of a staged sconce, the faux wall slid open, exposing the stairwell within. Angelus extracted his nude form from his crimson, silky linens. His flesh hummed with anticipation.
Her heady essence pervaded his being. Angelus’ nostrils flared, his mind swirled as the tantalizing airborne ambrosia of desire, willingness and utter female, assaulted him. His cock swelled and hardened as he ascended the stairs. The heavy brass key bit into his palm as he clenched his fist. Upon reaching the top, only the wooden barrier ceased his movement toward her.
As the key slid into the lock, Angelus’ mind flashed. He pictured his manhood entering within the deep recesses of her womb. Once the tumble of the lock clicked, clearing his way, he pushed open the door with zeal.
His hungry gaze sought her. Within an instant, he spied Buffy. She had finally risen in all her glory. Within the middle of the room, she remained kneeling, head bowed. Her stunning crown of golden tresses, curtained her features. During her stasis, Angelus cared for her body. He cleared her flesh of his and Drusilla’s cruelty. He washed her flowing locks in rose-petal water, dried and brushed her flaxen mane until it has shone like golden threads.
His name caused fear within the minds of all within the demon-world. Now, a conqueror of a Slayer, The Slayer, one who had defeated his sire and The Master, would seal his title of the true Master Vampire.
Without removing his gaze from her lowered form, Angelus closed the heavy wooden door. Cock throbbing, mouth watering, his stare lingered upon her form. Perfect, rose-tipped breasts begged for his eager hands. Shaven mound, courtesy of his skilled administrations, housed between her toned thighs. As Angelus remained motionless and silent, Buffy raised her head slowly to face him. Golden demonic eyes beheld him, a lust-filled smile graced her full lips. With one word, the siren at his feet entrapped Angelus.
“Master.” Buffy purred as the tips of her fangs glimmered in the soft candlelight.
Upon her declaration, she tilted her head to the side, to offer the column of her throat. Angelus’ demon tore forward. Within several steps, he stood before her. Buffy’s pouty lips now a hairsbreadth from his raging erection, Angelus was torn where to begin throat or core. Without further thoughts, his mind screamed “Why choose?”
**** ****
Spike continued to scour Sunnydale’s streets well into the night, becoming extremely dismayed. Each avenue was permeated with his scent, and blood spilled from numerous fights. The fury and vengeance that had fueled him for over two days straight had started to wane. They were replaced by anguish and despair.
Within the next three hours, the sun would greet the horizon to commence their daily dance. As his arduous strides continued towards Buffy’s home, her sanctuary…their sanctuary; Spike decided he would join this dance. The scorching rays would caress and consume his flesh as his mate had once. As he burned, his final thoughts would not be of his losses, but of his rewards. A demon that was bestowed the ultimate gift of his true love, of his mate, Buffy.
With certain strides the distance between his current location, and his heaven was only moments away. As he turned upon Revello Drive, the breath he didn’t know he held, released slowly as he approached her home. In moments, he passed the threshold and ascended the stairs.
Upon entering Buffy’s room his entire being was filled with her essence. Her clothes was still strewn around the room. Linens upon the bed still bore the memories of their lovemaking and precious moments that they lay intertwined upon the fabric. Tears welled within his cerulean eyes, his throat clenched with impending sobs.
Extracting the comforter from her mattress, Spike cocooned his shaking form within the quilt. His lids closed as the slight warmth pervaded his cold body. Unable to lie upon their bed without his mate, Spike chose to climb outside the window. Mr. Gordo tucked securely under his arm, he sat upon the roof, remembered and awaited the sun.
Time moved in a different continuum, as Spike pondered his life. A hundred years of death and destruction filled most of his thoughts. Each memory quickly flipped through his mind, as pictures in a scrapbook.
His memories halted once they reached her. A mere glance, of this fierce golden warrior had captivated him entirely. Contradictory words filled his mind as he remembered her; enemy, lover, tormentor, savior, eternity, fleeting. My mate…my Buffy. Renewed tears tracked over his sculpted cheeks, he clutched her belongings closer to his shaking form.
“Soon. Soon the sun will clear the horizon, and I will be free of this hell,” Spike thought as his hands caressed the plush, pink fur of Mr. Gordo.
“Is there something you need to tell me about you and Mr. Gordo, Spike?”
Spike closed his tear-filled eyes, as her voice caressed his mind. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he pondered her words. Despite the words ringing through his head, he answered her out loud.
“Knew you would Jacob Marley me, luv. Wouldn’t expect anything different,” Spike snickered.
“Really? So does that make you Scrooge? Well, he’s old…check. Rude…double check. Greedy…not so much. Two out of three is not too bad.”
“Please don’t tell me that I’m going to be visited by three ghosts, shown the error of my ways, so I can seek my redemption. I have only another hour, and I rather spend that with you, or at least, my imagination of you.”
“Huh? So what happens in an hour?”
“I finish what was started over a hundred years ago…I die.”
“Let me get this straight, you want to sit on my roof, fondling Mr. Gordo…which I’m so not going to ask about. Imagine that you’re talking to me and then become all dusty?”
“Long and short of it…yeah.”
“Even though you seem to have your time planned out, would it be a bother to ask for a small favor?” Spike’s lids and jaw tensed as her request washed over his mind. With a shaky breath he answered,
“Anything for you, luv.”
“Could I get a hug before you go?” Upon this request Spike’s eyes flashed open. He stood, shucking the comforter and dropping Mr. Gordo. With heavy strides, stalked across the rooftop, before he responded,
“Now I’ve truly gone mad! Karma is such a right bitch! Here I am, ready to meet Ol’ Satan himself. Accept his eternal torment, and here I have my own bloody imagination starting early!” Spike announced to the darkened sky. Spike’s strides moved quickly upon the rooftop.
“I don’t know about all that…I just wanted a hug,” Buffy replied with a slightly saddened tone.
Buffy’s essence hung heavily in the air. Within an instant, another scent mingled with the original heady scent…tears. Spike’s eyes moved from the outside world, to Buffy’s window. There within the recesses of the darkened room, an ethereal form stood.
Spike’s motions stopped immediately, his gaze drank in the beauty before him. Donned in only a white, gossamer frock, was her. His mate,…Buffy. Her petite features shown through the transparent fabric.
Spike’s gaze bore into the clearly spectral form before him. The mere sight of her caused his mind to spin and body to react. Cock hardened, fangs lengthened, demon to emerge. Despite his attempt to rationalize that his mind was playing tricks on him, his body and demon refused to relent.
Within an instant, he was before Buffy’s form. Teary gazes beheld one another for a brief moment. The realization that she was truly standing before him stormed through Spike’s mind. Instantly, he was brought to his knees. His trembling arms wrapped like steel around her tiny waist, his tears stained her frock.
Buffy’s hands clutched him to her body as mirrored tears fell. Her shaky legs released her form, and she collapsed into his embrace. Immeasurable time passed as the lovers held each other. Whispers of love and devotion flowed from one another’s lips, in between chaste kisses placed upon any exposed flesh.
Spike placed his trembling hands upon Buffy’s tear-stained cheeks, as his gaze studied her features. Eyes of green reflected his concerns, love and devotion. His cerulean stare widened, as the steady tattoo of her heartbeat thrummed against his palms.
“Buffy, your heart…”
“It still beats,” Buffy confirmed
“How? Why? How?” Spike stuttered as he tenderly placed his left palm to her breastbone.
“All great questions. Answers will be given, but not here. This is our room. Nothing evil will dwell here. Not in words, not in actions, not in memories.”
Upon that declaration, Buffy extracted her form from his. Begrudgingly, he released most of her body, except for her hand. Still petrified that if he didn’t at least maintain some contact with her, she would disappear.
Mindlessly he followed her, hands still clasped, into the bathroom. Under the bright fluorescent lights, each could bear witness to the other’s injuries. Buffy turned the water on. The steady sound of water striking the tiles and the steam rising throughout the room was the backdrop as Buffy assessed Spike.
His cheekbones protruded from his face, numerous stages of bruises dotted his alabaster skin. The lid of one eye was swollen slightly; another dark bruise encircled the blue orb. He appeared paler, more pallid than before.
Buffy’s eyes remained trained upon Spike’s, as she tenderly removed his clothing. As each bruise, slash, or mark was exposed Buffy placed a gentle, lingering kiss upon it. While removing his tattered denims, his erection stood proudly from the thatch of dark curls. Buffy nor Spike reacted. This was not about sex. These actions were about love, compassion, and devotion.
After Spike was completely disrobed, he proceeded to remove the one piece of clothing Buffy wore. The distinctive scent of Drusilla hung to the fabric, but Spike paid no attention. His sire was gone. She's been so, for several days. He was aware of her passing, but only a fleeting thought was given to her. Despite her gift of eternal life, and her presence for over a hundred years, he never truly loved her. Spike knew this now, since he had known true love with Buffy.
Spike’s demon roared forward as countless marks marred his mate’s body. Most appeared faded, but were still apparent. Buffy placed her palm against his cheek as she tried to calm his enraged demon.
“Shhh…it’s over now,” Buffy cooed. Spike’s demon receded, as his cerulean gaze examined her.
Buffy’s throat appeared to bare most of the injuries. Numerous, overlapping bruises covered her flesh. A savage wound marred the place his claim marks once dwelled. Tears hovered upon Spike’s lids, as his mind contemplated what and who had placed them there. Buffy placed her dainty fingers under his chin, to bring his line of vision from her throat to her face.
Eyes remaining open, Buffy leaned forward and placed a soft kiss upon his tightly drawn lips.
Instantly, his lips received hers, as he returned the gentle kisses. After several lavish kisses, Buffy pulled reluctantly from Spike and carefully guided them into the heated stream of water.
The deluge of water cascaded over their war-torn bodies, as their lips remained connected. Neither increased the pressure nor the pace of their kisses. Spike pulled away from Buffy first, his palms rested upon her cheeks.
“I thought I lost you. I felt you…I felt you slip away. I swear to you, I will forever work for your forgiveness,” Spike avowed as his gaze bore into hers.
“Spike, there is no need for forgiveness. You did nothing wrong,” Buffy affirmed.
“I didn’t save you! I didn’t keep you safe…safe from them! For the rest of my days, I will not forgive myself for that!” Spike growled, pulling his hands from her face. In an instant, he turned to face away from her, head hung low.
Buffy encircled his waist with her arms. Her pert breast pressed into his back, as she placed small kisses upon his flesh. After several administrations of affection, Buffy placed her cheek upon his skin and spoke.
“Spike, please. Don’t blame yourself. I should have waited for you to hunt them. Instead I go out, guns a blazing, against two master vamps. I let my anger and pain dictate my actions, and that caused me to be captured. Not you, never you.” Buffy pulled back slightly and urged with her hands for Spike to turn.
Without words, he understood and turned to face her. Once his gaze fixed upon hers, she continued,
“When I was kidnapped, they tried to break me. I fought to the end. Even as Angelus was upon my throat, I fought. I knew that nothing he could do, would keep us apart,” Buffy finished her words as she placed her hand upon his chest, over his heart.
“Did Angelus drain you?” Spike bit out.
“I guess. All I remember is Angelus attacking me. Drusilla came. Then she attacked him. They fought. He dusted her. Then he came back after me. I was so weak. The next thing I remember, his fangs were in my throat and the world became hazy and dark. Before I blacked out completely, he put his blood in my mouth. Days later, I woke up. He was there waiting for me. So I…” Buffy stopped her words, as she felt him tense under her hand. Spike remained silent as he waited for her to continue.
“So I greeted him. The same way I greeted you on Halloween.” Spike’s demon emerged as his memories pervaded his mind about that night.
“What did you offer him?” Spike growled.
“I bared my throat to him. Before he…well before he drank from me, he told me that he was my master. I think he wanted me to be his minion, not his mate. He only drank from me. I never drank directly from him. The only blood he gave m was a tiny amount. Not as much as you had given to me that night we mated.” Buffy’s words halted again. Impatiently, Spike growled,
“And?”
“When I woke, I was in this small locked room, with only a bed. Almost immediately when I opened my eyes, I could hear him coming up the stairs. I knelt on the floor, head bowed, and waited for him to come in. Long story short, I stole his heart,” Buffy declared with a slightly sinister grin.
“Stole his heart?” Spike questioned.
“Yeah, straight from his chest. One minute, Mr. Tall, dark and forehead towering over me…the next, dust in the wind!” Buffy roared, as her demon emerged.
In an instant, Spike pulled her form into his. With passionate, hungry hands and mouth, they explored one another. Buffy leapt, thighs splayed, as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Instinctually, Spike cupped her pert ass, supporting her. Without their lips parting, Spike pulled their sodden bodies from the shower and headed towards her room.
Within several strides, Spike stood before her bed. He quickly turned, so his back was toward their sanctuary. In a flurry of motion, Spike impaled Buffy upon his cock as he sat upon the soft mattress. With dual cries, the lovers announced their pleasure.
Unlike earlier, as they undressed one another, their coupling was intense and fervent. Hands seized flesh. Mouths dueled. Hips met in a brutal, primal dance. Each demon that lay within their bodies; sought pleasure, dominance and claim over their counterpart.
Mirrored crests of orgasms swelled within, as dual sets of fangs penetrated deep inside one another throats. Heady pulls of blood flowed into hungry mouths, as their climaxes spilled forward. Echo of “mine” filled the morning air, as each lover sealed their declaration with a kiss.
Buffy’s spent form clung to her lover’s as Spike continued slowly rocking his hips. Both demons receded, as Spike set a new pace for their lovemaking, which continued well into the day.
As twilight hung in the sky, the lovers lay intertwined upon the torn and tattered sheets. Buffy’s head was pillowed upon Spike’s muscular chest. He slowly stroked her golden tresses, from the crown downward. Buffy’s fingers slowly traced patterns over his alabaster flesh. A comfortable silence hung in the air, as they basked in the love and devotion that surrounded them.
“What are you thinking about? Buffy asked, voice breaking the silence.
“Nothin’,” Spike responded in kind.
“Our bond is still not as strong as it once was, but I can feel that something’s bothering you,” Buffy declared, as her gaze met his.
“I was just curious…well…why are you still the same? Not that I wanted you to be a full vamp, but I thought when a vamp drains you and feeds you his blood, presto…chango…you’re a vamp,” Spike stated with a slight furrow in his brow.
“I don’t know. I think maybe because of…”
Angelus’ words echoed in her mind before she continued.
“Now that’s everything, huh? No weapons…No friends…No hope.”
“Take all that away…and what’s left?”
“Me.” Buffy finished.
“Huh?” Spike questioned.
“I was just thinking. Before Angelus attacked me, he asked me if everything was taken away, what I would have left. I didn’t think of this then, but now I know…I would have me. I’m Buffy, first and foremost. Then I was called to be a slayer. Recently, I became part vamp, with a master vampire’s blood in my veins. My mates blood. No matter what he did, Angelus could never take that away. Despite what he did to my body or my mind, he could never change the fact of who I am. Elizabeth Ann Summers, the woman. Elizabeth Ann Summers, the warrior. Elizabeth Ann Summers, the mate of Spike, master vampire of the Aurelius clan.” Buffy announced, self-confidence filling each of her words.
Pride radiated from every pore, as Spike’s gaze beheld the majestic woman before him. In an instant, she was under him. His gaze bore into her soul.
“I love you, Buffy Ann Summers. With all that I am and all that, I could ever be, I love you for all of eternity.”
“And I love you, William Pratt. With all that I am and all that, I could ever be, I love you for all of eternity.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I apologize that it took a bit for me to update. To be honest, at times during this story, I questioned myself if I should continue. It is difficult to pour yourself into something when you receive little response back. For all those that had continued to read and review this story, I sincerely thank you. In addition, I also would like to thank Sanityfair, from the deepest depths of my heart for all her support. A combination of my readers reviews and her wise words, encouraged me to continue. I hope that you all have enjoyed my tale. Now that my muse purged her soul...
Chapter End Notes:
Th...th...th...that's all folks!