Buffy’s weary aching body protested with each step down the short corridor towards her room. Despite his harsh grip, she was strangely grateful for the guard’s hand holding her steady.
Her third match was a difficult one. Unlike her first two battles, prior to entering the ring they gave her two daggers. Those were beneficial, until Buffy realized what using daggers meant. In order to bring down her opponent she needed to get close,really close. When she entered the arena, her face paled when she saw who or more specifically what, she had to get close to, Mr. Reptilian.
This victory didn’t come easy. With the combination of Mr. Reptilian’s tail, claws, and razor sharp teeth, she was now worse for wear. In addition to the array of deadly weapons that he possessed, he spat on her. He launched a steady stream of foul clear liquid from his mouth, landing on her chest with a sickening splash. Luckily, it missed her face.
The guard’s grip remained firmed until he led her inside. Releasing her, he quickly turned. When the door slid closed, Buffy was reminded once again her position here, a slave, their Prized Fighter.
“Hey honey, you’re home,” Spike snickered from his cot. Splayed out on the small bed, his head rested upon folded arms. He appeared completely relaxed. This in actuality was a charade. If Buffy had seen him prior to her arrival, she would have witnessed his anxious strides filling the small space, while uneasiness etched his features.
“Yeah, tough day at the office.” Buffy winced, while she moved slowly over to her own cot.
“Which baddie did you slay today? Hey, I’m a poet and didn’t even know it.” Spike jested briefly before he inwardly added, “Neither did anyone else, William the Bloody my arse!”
“Well, you’re more like Dr. Seuss, and it was Mr. Reptilian. Yeah, snakey was harder than I thought. It didn’t help when they only gave me two daggers to fight with. So I had to get close…real close.” Buffy shuddered while she replayed parts of the fight within her mind. The way its flesh sounded when she tore into it, the pungent smell, and the piercing scream as it died.
“So Slayer, aren’t you grateful that I am able to welcome you home? After you left, Mr. Ponytail informed me that the beastie I was supposed to tussle with has a permanent case of dustiness. So I’m up later tonight. The way I see it—”After several steps, Buffy’s gait became slightly unsteady. Spike hushed when the sound of her heart fluttering instantly caught his attention.
“Slayer, what’s going on with you?”
“That fight just took a little more out of me than others, I’ll be fine when—“ Buffy’s words were cut off mid-sentence as her body swayed. She fell forward hard upon her hands and knees. Her head dropped between her arms. Spike lifted himself from his bed and hurried over to the red line that existed between their two halves of the room.
“Slayer, you don’t look too good. What happened during…” Spike’s words ended abruptly, when he caught a heavy stench that wafted from her.
“Slayer, did that demon get any of its vile fluids on you? Maybe blood or—” It took several moments for Buffy to wrap her mind around his words before she responded.
“Yeah, it…it…spat on…me…nasty…” as Buffy sputtered out her response, Spike’s sensitive hearing noticed she labored for breath, and her heartbeat fluttered once more.
“You’ve been poisoned! Get yourself over to the shower now! You have to wash it away!” Spike commanded, while he stood just mere inches from the invisible barrier.
“P…poi…soned? No…just tired…sleep now,” Buffy murmured while arms gave out, slumping to the floor. Instantly, he could see heavy dark shadows under her eyes and a light blue ring surrounding her parted lips as her breath continued to labor.
“Slayer, get your pert arse up! You can’t die now! You’re my ticket out! My twenty-first win…my third slayer! Get up!” Spike ran over to his cot and retrieved his boot. With accuracy, he tossed the boot and hit her in the ass.
“St..op mom…it’s Sat..ur…day!” Buffy muttered between increasingly heavy wheezes. Spike did the same with his second boot. The next strike broke her from her rest.
“Wa!” Heavy lids fluttered open, her hazy gaze attempted to focus on Spike. His demon flashed forward, his forceful order echoed through the room.
“Get to the shower…NOW!” Once his words penetrated her mind, Buffy slowly nodded her head, pulling herself from the floor. Unsteadily she began to crawl towards the shower.
Spike hurried over to the shower and stepped under the showerhead turning it on. Carefully, he moved the faucet towards her. After a few moments, she reached the lip of the stall and collapsed. The water pelted the floor in front of her face, but didn’t touch her.
Frustrated, Spike growled at the fallen woman, “A little more, you bint!” Spike noticed that she was no longer conscious. Her head rested upon the raised metal, her breathing was quick shallow, her heartbeat continued to waver.
“Buffy! Slayer!” Despite his booming voice, she remained motionless. She was slipping further under the waves of poison coursing through her veins.
“Bollocks!” Spike snapped, while he stepped further under the deluge of water. Before his mind could talk him out of it, he reached past into her side of the room. ”Nothing, not even a tingle.” this thought flashed momentarily before he firmly pushed it aside. Immediately, he grabbed her extended arm. With a brusque yank, he drew her under the water with him. Seating her against the wall, Spike crouched before her. His gaze did a quick assessment of her damages. Instantly noticing her chest where the leather of her battle gear appeared eaten away, exposing her reddened blistered skin underneath..
“This must be where the poison hit her,” Spike muttered. Without another thought, he desperately tore at the leather to expose her flesh to the water. He pulled her limp form further into the stream, frantically rubbing the area in an attempt to wash away the poison. Regardless of his brisk movements across her now exposed injured breasts, Buffy remained listless.
“Come on…come on!”
Spike could smell the poison looping through her veins. Soon, it would pass through her heart again, one of those times, stopping it. His mind reeled with ideas until he came upon the most logical, removing the poison from her veins. Hesitating slightly, his gaze fixed upon her face. The circles under eyes had darkened to a deep purplish hue and the faint line of blue around her lips had seeped downward and encompassed her mouth entirely. Her skin now held a deathly pallor. She was dying.
“Damn it Slayer, you are supposed to die a warrior’s death, not like this. Inside a bleedin’ shower, unconscious! Gotta do this. Right, here I go. Before I do, I would like to state for the record, I had no other choice. You’d better remember this Slayer, when you wake. Ok, here I go…” Spike tilted her head back slightly, exposing her throat. Regardless of his steady diet of human blood, this vision before him made his mouth water. Leaning forward, her unique scent overwhelmed his senses. Under the stench of poison, lay purely Buffy, the heady combination of vanilla, pure woman, and raw power.
Despite how this scene had played out within his mind continuously for years, the Slayer’s throat his chalice, him tearing into her flesh, relishing in her pain, and the ultimate death that he alone bestowed upon her had now melted away. This desire replaced by nothing more than the need to save and care for this tiny woman within his arms.
His golden gaze fixed on her wavering pulse under her pallid skin. Tenderly, his fangs pierced the column of her throat. Buffy didn’t stir from the intrusion. Once her blood hit his palate, Spike moaned deeply in sheer pleasure against her flesh. Fortunately, for him, the poison didn’t affect him as it did her. He relished in the knowledge that he could devour each drop of her sweet ambrosia.
Even with her blood tainted with poison, Spike was in his own personal heaven. Buffy’s petite body rested within the cage of his strong arms, his fangs within her throat, her heady blood feeding every cell within his body. Buffy mewled softly, causing Spike’s cock to lengthen and harden further within his heavily soaked denims. Following two steady draws, Spike noticed the poison dissipating. With three more, it was completely gone.
Still fangs deep, Spike suddenly became conflicted. While his demon relished her borrowed blood vibrating within his stagnant veins and her lithe body against his urging him to continue, another minuscule part of his brain that had remained dormant for over a hundred years. His conscience stirred, stopping him. The voice inside his head telling him he did this to save her from the poison. Since the poison was gone now, he needed to release her.
His demon scoffed, while his inner Jiminy Cricket pressed on. Spike took two additional draws and gently extracted his fangs. He lavished the mark with several licks to capture any stray droplets and to seal the bite. His golden gaze studied the woman that remained limp in his arms. Spike noticed her heartbeat had returned to the normal fierce tattoo that lulled him to sleep these past few nights. Her breathing was slow, but was no longer shallow. Her full lips had regained their rosy hue, even though the tinge of blue still framed her mouth. While Spike continued to study her, Buffy’s heavy lids fluttered. Upon her stirring, Spike shifted into his human guise. A small whimper escaped her lips, while her hazy gaze attempted to focus on Spike’s face.
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Spike whispered, a soft smile tugged on his lips.
After several slow blinks, she responded, “Spike?” Her voice was raspy and heavy as it left her lips.
“Yeah, your prince charming is here,” Spike, answered with a slight mirth in his tone.
“What happened?”
“Snake demon poisoned you.” His voice was soft and soothing, while it mingled with the spray of the continuous water that fell upon them.
“Poison?”
“Yeah kitten, nasty poison.” Buffy’s eyes remained fixed on his, while his words penetrated the fog surrounding her mind. Feeling water landing on the top of her head and shoulders, cascading over her tender bare chest, Buffy’s head lolled forward to watch the stream of water flow, before she questioned him.
“Why are we in the shower?”
“Needed to get rid of the poison.” His answer was instant and brief, without supplying by what means besides the water, he used to get rid of it.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Is…ittt…all…gggone?” Buffy began to stutter, as she started to shiver from the now cold water. Spike’s mind whirled while he felt the raw power of her blood resonated throughout his being, making it difficult to remain focused.
“Yeah, all gone, let’s get you out of here. Shaking like a leaf you are.”
Spike cautiously pulled their drenched bodies from the floor of the shower. He held onto her tightly, until he felt that she would be able to move of her own accord. Swaying slightly, but maintaining her ground, Buffy placed her hand tenderly on his cheek. Unwavering, clear and sparkling greens held bright blues that swirled with pure affection and admiration. With a faint smile, she spoke.
“Spike, I lo—“ Before the rest of her words could break free of her throat, the vile substance they call rations, rose to the top. Slapping her hand across her mouth, Buffy quickly slipped from his arms. With shaky legs, she hurried towards the toilet. Lowering herself roughly to the floor, her stomach emptied into the metal bowl. After several heaves, she sat down, taking in slow deep breaths to calm herself.
Buffy gradually dragged herself from the floor and headed towards her bed. Regardless of being completely soaked, she plopped herself down. Spike stepped out from the shower, automatically shutting off the water, walking over to his bed, stripping his sheet from the mattress. In vain, he attempted to dry himself off, before sitting down with a squish. Buffy’s curious gaze fell upon him.
After several moments she spoke, “Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“So, how were you able to pass that red line?” Buffy’s brow furrowed while she studied the line briefly, before returning to Spike.
“The only thing I can guess is the steady stream of water blocked the transmission of signals that would normally trigger our dusty-ness.” Buffy’s eyes widened from his intelligent and reasonable explanation. Noticing this, Spike continued. “…or we just that bloody lucky.” Spike shrugged nonchalantly.
“So, you risked yourself, for me?”
“It looks like.” His casual tone altered, now held a low, shy quality. His gaze lowered and focused on a suddenly interesting spot on the floor.
“Why?” Her soft voice wrapping around such a loaded question, caused Spike’s attention to move from the floor, to her focused gaze.
“Like I said while you were out, you deserve to die in a fierce battle, not from snake spit inside a shower. Not proper.”
“Right, death by demon, in the midst of battle. Of course, you have yourself in mind for that?” A hint of humor surrounded her words and caused her eyes to twinkle with mirth.
“Of course, evil,” Spike responded offhandedly, followed by his classic smirk.
“Of course. Well, anyway, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Spike…” He cut off her words before she could continue.
“Buffy, I did what I needed to do to save my own hide. Don’t look into more than that. Well, gotta take a nap, my fight to the death and all.”
Before Buffy could retort, without saying another word, Spike lay on his side, back to her. She studied him, while deafening silence filled the room. He was fidgeting, obviously wanting to do or say something, but was using un-Spike like restraint. She knew his words prior to him turning from her were false. The way he looked at her, the way his arms held her compassionately spoke louder than any of his words. Buffy sensed that something was off. Normally, Spike would have been rehashing this good deed repeatedly, looking for praise and acknowledgment from her. On the contrary, he was quiet and not looking for any type of recognition. Completely un-Spike-like.
Slowly pulling her drenched and now ruined leathers from her exhausted body, she noticed that one area remained pain free. Actually, it felt almost…pleasant. Her fingers lifted and ran over the left side of her throat. There, directly over her jugular were twin puncture wounds. The moment her fingertips brushed over them a wave of desire resonated throughout her body, settling deep within her core. Her eyelids fluttered, stroking them once more. While the tingling still vibrated throughout her body, one thought filled her mind. Far more had happened, besides him ‘washing’ away the demon’s poison, and the tender raised marks on her throat told her all she needed to know. Gradually sliding into Spike’s worn tee shirt, a knowing smile graced her lips as her mind finally acknowledged what her heart already knew.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well here's the next installment. Hope all enjoy. RL has been really tough for me the last two weeks, so I hope this low time in my life isn't reflected in nor is affecting my writing. If it is, I'm really sorry for that. Big thanks to my beta and more importantly, a great friend, Sanityfair. thanks for EVERYTHING!!!
Chapter End Notes:
Well, let me know whatcha think. All reviews are loved and cherished!