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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks Sanityfair. To all....the plot thickens!
The next morning Buffy was greeted with the bright rays of the sun streaming into her room, bathing her in warmth. After several beats, she realized that the sunlight still bothered her eyes, but with her trusty Jackie O’s she could get through the day. She slightly squinted at the sunny assault, but overall she felt fine. Buffy dressed and quickly got ready for school. She descended the stairs humming to herself.

She hadn’t felt this overwhelming sense of peace in an extremely long time. Not since before she was called as the Slayer. Her mind worked through the possible reason or reasons, only one coming to mind, Spike. After they were together last night, Buffy had fallen into a deep tranquil sleep.

‘It must have been the combination of the blood and the other ‘stuff’ that did it. Well, the next time I see him, I have to thank him for making me feel better. Well, not for that. I wonder when that will be.’ The last sentence caused her to furrow her brow.

She knew she should stay away from Spike. There were millions of reasons why. The fact remained, she didn’t want to he was her mate. She fought in regard to that simple fact; she didn’t want to believe this. Nevertheless, after everything that had happened, it seemed only natural to refer him as hers and accept the fact that she was his.

“Sweetie, you look so much better. There’s color in your cheeks and there’s gorgeous smile that I’ve missed so much. How’s your headache?” Joyce asked with concern.

After several beats of inward assessment, Buffy responded.

“Actually, it’s completely gone.” Buffy beamed. ‘Thanks again to Spike.’ Her mind added. Later, after short conversation and quick breakfast, Buffy headed off to school.

As she walked the Sunnydale High hallways first time in over a week her mind wandered. She felt strange, out of place. Everything seemed so much smaller, insignificant. The day went by without any issues and after school, Buffy met with ‘the gang’ at the library.

Several minutes of ‘How are yous?’ and ‘How have you beens?’ They started to address the business at hand, Buffy possibly being part vampire. Following a strained silence a barrage of “How? When? Why? Who?” overtook Buffy as well as Giles. As they answered the questions they eluded one, ‘who’.

After sometime it seemed to make sense for them. First, they lived on the Hellmouth and secondly, due to her recent illness. Buffy and Giles did not discuss and completely avoided any and all questions that would give any hints that Buffy was mated with Spike. Luckily, since Xander had always worn rose-colored glasses, he never questioned the incident that transpired the evening in the library with Spike.

Two hours into the meeting, both Xander and Willow left for the evening. Buffy remained with Giles. They trained and discussed the major issue at hand.

“So were you alright last night…..don’t drop your left shoulder…. After I left you?” Giles asked as they trained with the quarterstaff.

“Yeah…..ooph…..I was fine.” Buffy responded as she continued her training.

"Definitely more than fine bloody fantastic! Oh no! Is this like when people who are together for a long time take on each other’s words and quirks?" Buffy thought as she counterattacked Giles’ strike.

Giles struck Buffy on the back of her thigh, as her mind was occupied with thoughts of Spike.

“Yeow! Bloody hell! That hurt!” Buffy screamed as her hand went to her injured thigh. Her eyes flashed golden then quickly returned to their charteuse hue.

Giles stopped, staring at the Slayer before him. As he studied her, his mind started to catalog all that he saw. Her breathing remained steady, despite her increased physical exertion. Her skin still held its creamy complexion, not flushed. In addition to the flash of golden eyes and her British curse, Giles would swear that Spike was affecting her far more than either of them had suspected.

Lightning-quick, Buffy swept her leg along the ground as she pulled Giles’ legs out from under him. He landed in a graceless heap upon the floor. In an instant Buffy hovered over him, fangs and golden eyes flashing. A loud growl emanated from her chest. Giles, in a moment of panic called out.

“Buffy! What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Giles yelled. Buffy continued to look at the fallen man with detachment. After several moments his voice broke through her haze. As her fangs receded, Buffy put her hand to her mouth in total shock at what she had done.

“Oh my god, Giles! I’m so sorry…..I didn’t….I mean…..I would never…..” With that Buffy dropped her weapon and fled from the library into the impending darkness.



Spike lay in his makeshift bed, another battered old chair, as his mind was filled of dreams of Buffy. After he left her last night, he reluctantly fed since after Buffy had fed from him, he had felt slightly weakened. When the sun hovered on the horizon, Spike arrived back to the warehouse. As he entered into his ‘room’ his mind thought back to the evening with her, his mate, Buffy. A permanent grin filled his full lips, as he curled upon his bed to let sleep pull him under.

“Looks like the hunter has become the hunted?” Buffy purred, before she plunged her teeth into his neck.

As she drank deep, her pelvis ground into his seeking friction. After four mouthfuls, Buffy pulled her fangs from his alabaster skin. Her tongue rolled over the marks twice as she tried to capture every last drop and to seal the newly opened wound.

“Mmmm, you are delicious.”

“Now, you are to be a good boy and give me what I want.”

“Uhhhh…..yes! That’s it!”


“Mmmm…..oh Spike! Please make me cum. Make me cum!”

Spike’s mind replayed the evening, her fangs in his throat, his mouth on her sweet cunny. All the while, he felt her heated body. Scorching him, burning his throat, his mouth, and his mind. Soon the sensations changed from pleasant to painful. Her mouth became as hot as the sun, blazing welts upon his flesh. As her essence coated his tongue and throat, it scalded his insides.

Spike woke with a start, in a full game face, which caused a rip of pain to flare through him. Off center of ‘his bedroom’ stood Drusilla, she clutched a small vial in her talons, her vampire visage hiding her exquisite features. Dru hissed as she realized that Spike had awoken, but she prepared to attack again. Spike pulled himself from the chair, lowered his body to a feral crouch, as he tried to speak.

“Dooo, wot ve oooo wone ooo eeee?” Spike slurred

“What have I done to you?!? What have I done to you?!?? The question is sweet William, is what have you done to me?! Your dark princess! Your sire! You shouldn’t be so ungrateful my dearest. I could have sent you to the sun, but I decided to punish you this way. I’ve cleansed you from the traces of that wicked whore! I could smell her on you! Her foul essence filled my nose as I lay in our bed! Miss Edith told me that you had given your neck to her, and other little nasties! I didn’t believe her until I smell her repugnant scent when you entered at dawn!” Drusilla shrilled at the injured Spike.

He looked at her hand again, as he noticed that the vial contained a clear liquid. At the fire that consumed his mouth, tongue and his throat both inside and out, he believed that it was probably holy water. While he had slept, dreaming of his mate, Drusilla had placed the dangerous liquid upon him. The pain was excruciating. Despite her no longer dripping the corrosive on him, he still felt like he was on fire.

As Spike moved slowly, Drusilla hissed again before she spoke.

“You promised your dark princess that you would always be here for me! Over a hundred years, you have been mine. Now, you’re hers! One dance with sunshine and you're forever gone! Poor Spike, so lost. Even I can't help you now.” Drusilla said tearfully as she pulled a stake from the folds of her gossamer dress.

Spike’s eyes widened. First, at what she had said and more from the new weapon she now clasped. Drusilla shrieked as she ran at Spike, stake raised. Spike quickly rolled away from her charging form. He stood as he eyed the open door across the room. Due to her weakened state Dru was not a formidable competitor, but he still didn’t let his guard down.

As she ran at him again Spike pushed her aside as he ran for the door. Spike dashed into the night away from the only woman that had filled his world for over a hundred years.


Buffy ran without stopping, as they sun dipped below the horizon. She knew that she shouldn’t be frightened or worried about the night. Especially what had transpired between her and Spike. Unfortunately, she was still apprehensive about what she, herself was capable of especially due to the events earlier that evening. She was unsure if the night brought forward her more vamp side. Buffy was determined not to pursue the answer to that question tonight.

As she ran, her mind was filled with overwhelming feelings of pain, betrayal and anger. The myriad of feelings stopped her mid run, as she needed to sit on the side of the road to collect her thoughts. Just as suddenly as they started, they receded. Buffy stood and resumed her quick gait. She shook off these feelings and chalked them up to what had transpired with Giles not too long ago.

As the sky finally filled with a sheet of blackness, Buffy arrived home. As she entered, she felt a relief that one felt when the sanctuary of home surrounded them. Buffy could leave her crazy life once she shut the door. Her mother greeted her with a home cook meal, mundane conversation and mindless television. After their evening together, Joyce retired early due to a busy day at the gallery the next day. As she walked up the stairs, she told Buffy to head to bed soon.

Another hour later, Buffy pulled herself from the couch with a cat-like stretch. As she turned off the late show, she carried her now weary body up the stairs. Despite starting the day on all eight cylinders, she was now moving at a snail’s pace. She felt drained, a little achy. Buffy summarized it was due to not being fully recovered from her prolonged ‘illness.’

When Buffy arrived in her room, after she had completed her bedtime routine, she started to undress. As she stood only donned in her silky panties, her skin started to prickle with an unseen awareness. Buffy immediately knew what this meant, her mate, Spike.

Buffy felt that he was especially close. She paced in her room for several moments as she was mentally at war with herself. Giles’ words from last night filled her mind.

“I don’t know Buffy, nor do I care. My main concern is you.”

“Despite Spike being a soulless demon, one truth remains, you, and he are mated. I also know that he is taking full advantage of that weakness that he has over you. …..it is imperative that you do not make yourself accessible to him. You are to remain indoors at all times when the sun is down.”

Despite what her head and Slayer-ness were telling her, her body was calling to him. In addition to her body, she could sense that something was wrong. She could feel overwhelming waves of confusion and pain both emotional and physical. Finally, Buffy decided to heed to her senses. Find Spike. Buffy hastily dressed determined she needed to find Spike now. As she threw open her bedroom window, Spike’s essence filled her nostrils. When Buffy’s foot hit the roof, she heard a soft shuffle near the window.

Buffy pulled her leg back in an instant. As she sat in the shadows of her room, she called out into the night.

“Spike? Is that you?” Buffy whispered. No response. She decided to ask louder.

“Spike, if that’s you, please answer me.” Buffy urged. She was met with continued silence. Loud enough so she would unquestionably be heard, but not enough to wake her mother, she snapped.

“Spike, for fuck’s sake! Stop playing games! Either you answer me or you can wait for the sun out there for all I care!”

As she started to bring the sash down, she heard the distinctive shuffle of clothes against the roof’s asphalt shingles. Buffy stared intently, as a face appeared in her window. When the streetlights haloed his platinum locks, Buffy knew that it was Spike.

“Now was that so hard? Why are you being all quiet? It’s kinda creeping me out. Usually you’re talking a mile a minute. I swear you love the sound of your own voice.” Buffy jested. Spike remained unusually quiet.


“Spike, do you want to talk? What’s bothering you?” Buffy asked with concern. She was still met with more silence.


“Fine! Spike look I don’t like this anymore. If you want to scare me, you’re doing a great job! When you’re ready to be a grownup, hell you have one hundred and twenty years of practice, you let me know.” Buffy huffed as she started to close the window. Spike started to panic as his only help was shutting him out.

Spike tried to reach out to his mate, and was met with the unseen barrier that kept him from her. As his fingers slid from the invisible obstruction, Buffy was filled with another wave of feelings, sadness and desperation.

“eeessee eell meeee.” Spike moaned.

Buffy’s eyes widened as everything saturated her whole being. Without another thought she stated.

“Spike, get in here now!” As the mystical barrier dissipated, Buffy reached forward to him. She took his hand, as he stepped over the threshold of the window. Buffy silently instructed him to sit on her bed as she turned to close the window. After it was closed, she sat on the bed next to his muted form.

Even though she believed she was part vamp, her night vision was different as her counterpart. She leaned forward and turned on her table lamp. As she faced Spike, the bleached crown of his head met her gaze. His head was tilted away from her eyes, as he tried to hide himself from her.

“Spike, please look at me.” Buffy whispered. After several beats, Spike slowly turned his head toward her. What she saw stilled her breathing.

A sizeable ban of blackened, burned flesh marred his lips, chin and the right side of his jaw. The charred skin traveled down the right side of his throat where her marks were housed. Buffy gently placed her hand on his right cheek as she brought his face toward her. Fury filled her as she looked at him.

“Who did this to you?” Buffy growled as her golden eyes eclipsed her charteuse ones. Spike eyes lowered, she felt an overwhelming wave of disgrace fill her.

“Spike, you did nothing to deserve this, don’t you ever think otherwise!” Buffy announced. His eyes remained lowered, as if he was ashamed of being vulnerable and injured. Buffy’s mind filled with only one thought, vengeance. Despite this demand gnawing, her gut and mind, she needed to first take care of her mate. Pain to those that had done this to him would have to come later.

“Look, first things first. We need to heal you.” Spike’s azure gaze met hers. As he silently thanked her, she stood from her seat.

“I don’t know the extent of your injuries. But what I do know is that you won’t be able to feed from me with your fangs. Stay here I’ll be right back.” Buffy instructed as she started to walk towards the door. As she reached for the knob, she felt a pillow hit her in the back of the head.

“Spike what the hell did you do that for?” Buffy hissed. Spike’s eyes held a mischievous twinkle that was non-existent until just now. He gestured with his finger as he swirled it around the perimeter of his face. After a few sweeps Buffy understood. She was still in game face.

“Thanks. Sorry for my pissyness. Be right back.” Buffy willed her demon to retreat and exited her room. Several moments later, she returned with a sharp kitchen knife. Spike’s scarred eyebrow raised at the instrument. Without words Buffy understood what he was thinking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have my own set of knives in my mouth. I just don’t feel right slicing into myself with them. It still creeps me out. And before you say anything, well not that you really could at this time. But when you can, I know that I partook of your blood by….ummm….using my fangs. You just got me so mad being all overbearing and Mr. I’m in Charge. My vamp side was sick of it! You’re lucky that it wasn’t my Slayer side, or you would have been dust in the wind!” Buffy stated with a small smile. Spike cerulean gaze held hers as mirth filled them. Despite how often she just wished he would shut up, she really missed his voice right now.

Buffy blinked twice to clear her thoughts as she held her palm out flat. As she placed the serrated blade to her skin, she spoke.

“I think this is the best place for you to feed from. Anywhere else you would have to suck, and I know that you won’t be able to do that now.” With a slight nod, Buffy dragged the blade across her palm. The wound instantly filled with the rich, heady blood that he needed. Buffy cupped her hand, so no blood would be lost.

Spike’s features shifted into his demon visage, pain filled his body as his fangs descended from his injured gums. He wanted to scream due to the excruciating torture the shift had given him, but he held steady. To scream meant opening his mouth, which would only add to his pain. Buffy’s eyes watered as she felt the torment of her mate.

Buffy remained standing, offering him her palm. He slowly closed his eyes and leaned forward. Spike carefully placed his now burnt lips into the pool of her blood hovering briefly as his willing lips parted. Pain blossomed with the movement. There was an intake of unneeded breath as he brought some blood into his mouth. After several moments, he pulled away. Smeared across his face was her blood. Buffy noticed as his lids flickered open. The pleasure she normally saw in his golden eyes was replaced by suffering.

“Spike, can you open your mouth slightly so I can pour the blood in?” Buffy asked as she started to worry. If he weren’t able to feed, he wouldn’t be able to heal. If he didn’t heal, he wouldn’t be able to feed. It was a vicious circle that would end in Spike possibly fading away. Spike nodded slightly as the charred area that was once his lips, slightly parted.


Buffy placed her hand close to his once lips as she slowly started to pour her blood into his slightly opened mouth. She could see his eyes screw shut as he swallowed the nourishment that he so needed. Once the small pool was gone, Buffy repeated the needed steps to get him what he required. She had to cut herself five times before she felt that he had received enough. Spike’s eyes appeared to be hazy as his body willed him to sleep. Silently, he stood and walked towards the window. Buffy called out to him as he raised the pane.

“Where are you going?” Buffy asked with concern. Spike slowly turned around, placed his palms together, as in prayer and placed them to the side of his cheek. As he leaned his head to the side he closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I know you need to sleep. Just take off your nasty boots and jacket, before you climb under my covers ok. I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” With that, Buffy left the room.

Spike eyes widened when he realized what she meant. She wanted him to sleep in her room, in her bed. He didn’t even think of the implications when she invited him in. He was too lost in pain to even consider it. Now that he had her sweet Slayer blood flowing through his veins, healing his wounds, his mind could think of other things besides his injuries.

When she returned, Spike was still standing at the window lost in thought. Buffy looked at him then spoke.

“Hey, are you getting ready for bed or what? I really need to go to sleep. Have a busy day tomorrow. Mom is leaving early for work, and is staying at the gallery late. You can stay here all day and recover. I’ll cut out of school early to come and check on you. Sound good?” Buffy asked as she removed her sweat pants. She donned a flimsy white tank top and white silky panties. Spike still remained frozen by the window as this golden beauty approached him.

“Come on, you know how pale you are and the no talking is making me feel like you’re a creepy mime.” Buffy pulled his hand as she brought him back to the bed.

She sat him down, and then returned to the window to close it. She then securely covered the glass with her curtains, to keep the deadly rays at bay. She walked back over to him and kneeled before his motionless form. She untied his laces and removed his heavy Doc Martens from his feet. Then she stood and lowered the leather from his muscular shoulders. He lifted his hips, so she could pull it from under him.

She carried it to her closet, hung it up, and then placed his boots inside. Buffy then approached her bed, pulled back the comforter and sheets of the other side from where he was seated. Buffy slid under the cool cotton, turned to her side, away from him then stated.

“Spike can you please shut off the light, before you lie down.” After several beats, Spike moved. He turned off the light and remained seated. Buffy sat up, looked at his motionless form. She scooted forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and spoke.

“Spike, please come to bed. You need your rest.” Buffy placed a chaste kiss to his clothed back as she slightly pulled his form backwards.

Buffy laid down on her back and opened her arms. Without a sound, Spike slid under the sheets next to her. He clutched her waist as he nuzzled his uninjured cheek upon her chest. Buffy slowly fingered the soft hairs at the base of his neck, as she tried to sooth his now trembling form. As they held each other close sleep soon claimed them both.

Across town, Drusilla walked aimlessly through the streets of Sunnydale. She clutched Miss Edith’s chocolate locks in her fist as the doll's feet dragged along the ground. Tears fell from her aquamarine eyes in streaked tracks down her pale cheeks. Her lips moved as she silently repeated the names of those that she had lost, grand mum, daddy, Spike.

As she continued to walk, she passed through a playground. Upon entering, her demon features flashed when she smelled her, the Slayer. As she plopped herself upon the frozen ground to tantrum, she inhaled another scent.

“Daddy.” Drusilla whispered. After she breathed deep again, she amended herself as her face cringed with the new realization.

“Not daddy. Never daddy. It’s the Angel beast.” She hissed.

As Dru went to stand, she cocked her head to the side, as if she was listening to whispers. As she pulled herself to her full height, she looked upon Miss Edith. Drusilla slowly lifted her up, still by the tresses of her hair, so now her porcelain mouth was beside her ear. Briefly, Dru listened to the imaginary words of the doll. A feral grin graced her features at what she heard.

“Ohhhh, Miss Edith! So wicked! You are right, all must be made right again. Off we go! We have plans that need to be made!” With that, Dru started to travel at a quick clip back to the warehouse.

Once she arrived, she called for her minions. As three gangly vamps scurried forward she looked upon them with disgust.

“Where is the rest of your filthy brethren?” Dru snarled.

“Mistress, they are hunting for themselves and for your Wickedness.” One minion answered, head bowed.

“Well, all will need to be here for the preparations! I will draw a list. You and the others must get everything listed. Is this understood?” Drusilla hissed as she broke into her game face.

“Yes mistress!” Another minion responded.

“Good. Now, fetch your mistress some parchment!” Dru ordered.

All three minions scampered to locate her request. Quickly, one arrived with her demand and handed it to her with his head bowed.

As she placed the sheet upon the table, she snapped her fingers and held her palm up in a silent request for something to write with. All three vamps looked upon one another in confusion.

“A writing utensil you fools!” Dru snarled.

The trio started to pat down their clothing in search for what she commanded. Dru turned; her demon receded, an almost sweet smile upon her face. In a flash she grabbed the closest minion by the scruff of his neck and slammed his face into the rigid wood of the table. With her razor sharp talons, she tore into his throat with a fierce swipe. As the blood welled into the injury, her steel grasp held his head down. With the other, she dipped one sharp nail into the now blood filled ‘ink well’ that she created.

With the claw, she started to scrawl upon the paper her list. She worked quickly as she wrote, frequently dipping the talon for more blood. As her eyes flashed gold, a nonsensical sentence fell from her lips.


“When the tree falls, so will they all!”

She chanted the sentence several times before she completed her writing. She then removed her steel grip from the minion’s head. He then slid from the table, dusting as he reached the floor. Drusilla approached the remaining minions and quickly handed one the list. The paper was still damp with the minion’s blood.

“Now, all that is on that list needs to be present for the party to begin! Do you understand? Anything amiss and you will greet the sun.” Drusilla hissed.

“Yes mistress!” The minion stated as they both proceeded to bow before their departure.

Drusilla filled with immense pleasure began to chant again as her body started to sway as a flame in the wind.

“When the tree falls, so will they all!”

The two minions hurried from their mistress’ presence. Once they arrived outside, they looked upon the blood scrawled list. Their mistress required thirteen people for sacrifice. All must be strong and viral their blood pure and heady. Under this request was scribbled one name.

Willow Rosenberg


Chapter End Notes:
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