“Promise me something.”
Buffy’s head was cradled against Spike's chest as he ran his hand in lazy circles across her lower back. Sweaty, sated, their bodies were a tangle of limbs, and the vampire's lips curled into a far-away smile as he took in his lover's appearance. With her hair in disarray, and his bite mark fresh upon her neck, Spike decided that the freshly-shagged look suited her even better than the freshly-kissed one.
“Yes,” he said, dropping a kiss to her forehead.
The smaller candles had long since burned out, and Buffy smiled, raising up to better see his face in the muted light. “You don’t know what it is yet.”
“Doesn’ matter,” he replied, “You know I can’t deny you anythin’, pet.” Spike’s grin widened when Buffy rolled her eyes in gentle admonishment, and her fingers strayed carelessly to his abdomen.
“Anything?”
“Well...” he amended with a wink, “I suppose that depends on how daft it is. You’ve been known to play some blinders in the past, love.”
An indignant huff passed Buffy’s lips as her eyes narrowed in warning. “This coming from the guy who thought chains and a cattle prod were the way to win a girl’s heart.”
“Oi! You’re here, aren’t you?” Spike murmured against her neck. “Just took a bit longer than expected is all.”
“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that, Mr. Glass Half-Full.”
Spike chuckled. “Come on then, slayer. Out with it.”
Buffy glanced away, reluctant to broach the subject, but equally, too jaded to leave her fears unvoiced. “I’m sorry to be all obsesso-girl but...” She swallowed hard, her gaze trained on the sight of her palms splayed over his chest. “They never stay, Spike... Every man I’ve ever let into my heart has let me down. My Dad, Angel... God, even Giles—and I know I’m a mess... but please, don’t let me push you away... Don’t let me screw this up.”
“Hey, now. Enough of that.” Spike cupped her cheek, raising Buffy’s eyes to his. “Didn’ we hash this out last night? I thought we’d agreed there’s no gettin’ rid of me.”
“We did,” Buffy replied sheepishly as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Can’t blame the crazy person for needing to hear it again, though.”
Shaking his head, Spike brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Trust me, love, I know crazy when I see it.” His fingers teased through her hair, letting the silky strands caress each digit. “When Dru fell out the loony tree she hit every soddin’ branch on the way down. That’s not you. You’re stronger than that. Never could stay away from you, an’ there’s no bloody way I’m about to start now.”
Spike would never tell her how close they’d been to making her fears obsolete. How in that sublime moment when he’d swallowed down her precious blood, he’d also swallowed down the words that would bind them together forever. All the same, his reply was a balm to her wounded soul, and sighing contentedly, Buffy nuzzled into his palm.
“Love this hair,” he whispered, luxuriating in the freedom to touch her so overtly.
“I thought it was stupid hair?” Buffy teased. “Not that you’re in a position to talk...”
Spike’s eyebrow shot up in mock offence. “Less of the cheek, Summers, or I’ll put you over my knee.” One hand slid down her back, settling protectively over the curve of her backside, as the other proceeded to trace invisible words of poetry against her shoulder blade. “I’m in this for the long haul, pet. Those other blokes were idiots. It takes a real man to love you the way you deserve.”
Spike suspected that when it came to sex, his poncy grandsire needed an instruction manual to fit tab A into slot B, and if tonight was anything to go by, Buffy must have held back with her human lovers to avoid any lasting damage.
“Come here,” he said, urging her impossibly closer. “I know where you live now, kitten. Know how to make you scream. What do you say I use that famous vamp stamina an’ show you what else you’ve been denied by those other gits?” His sinful tongue snaked out to lick his lips as his eyes wandered over her body. “Oh, the things I could teach you...”
“Hey!” Buffy replied, pushing herself up. “I do know about different positions and...stuff...” Spike chuckled, one eyebrow arched in wry amusement. “Okay,” she shrugged, “three, but—” Her words were swallowed by a ravenous kiss as she found herself sat astride his prone hips. After spending the last two hours getting to know each other in the very biblical sense, Spike was amazed that Buffy was still capable of blushing when he bucked beneath her.
Surprised, the Slayer glanced down as his burgeoning erection twitched against her heated core. “You can’t be serious?” she said as Spike’s fingers teased her sensitive breasts. “I’m too exhausted to even think about sex, let alone...” Buffy’s objections were lost to a moan as he leaned up, swirling his tongue around a rosy nipple. “Okay... that’s cheating...”
“Never underestimate the power of a horny vamp, love.” Spike’s laughter vibrated around her aching flesh as his hands fell to her waist, encouraging the gentle rotations of her hips. “Did I ever tell you that Slayer blood’s an aphrodisiac?” He smirked as a tortured groan tore from Buffy’s lips, then rolled them over and slid into the welcoming heat of her body. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, thrusting steadily as her velvety walls constricted around his shaft. “You’ll be thankin’ me by mornin’.”
“I knew it...” Spike’s chest heaved as he fought to catch his unneeded breath. “I knew the only thing better than killing a slayer would be—”
A hand clamped over his mouth.
“Spike, trust me. No good can come from you finishing that sentence.”
Eyes dancing, he placed a kiss to Buffy’s palm before nipping at her fingers. “...Would be makin’ love to one,” he said, chuckling at the disbelieving look she shot in his direction. “My, my, my, slayer... What a dirty mind you have.”
“Me?” Buffy baulked. “I’m the dirty one?”
“Well,” Spike replied, eyebrows waggling indecently. “I admit I’m gettin’ on a bit, love, but I sure as hell didn’ imagine the little nasties you were pantin’ in my ear. Always knew you’d be a demon in the sack, an’ the things you did to me...” Spike’s smile was blinding, and Buffy’s blush only fuelled his amusement. A satisfied purr rumbled throughout his chest, and reaching out, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Nearly drove a master vampire to tears with that greedy little mouth of yours. Came so hard I thought my balls were gonna turn inside out.”
“Always the romantic,” Buffy muttered, averting her eyes as she traced her fingers over the defined muscles of his abdomen. “I never knew it could be like that.” If Spike’s ego got any bigger there was a danger he’d float out of the room, but there was no point in denying the obvious, especially when her body still trembled from the dizzying heights of passion he’d brought her to. Sex with Riley had always felt like she was merely someone to talk to whilst he did his daily push-ups. Making love with Spike had been a total revelation—not that she was about to tell him that of course…
“I know I’m hardly experience-girl... but that was—”
“Bloody incredible.” Spike covered her hand, bringing it to his mouth where he pressed a chaste kiss to her fingers. “I knew it would be. Couldn’t be anythin’, but.” He rolled to the side, facing her on their shared pillow. “Always wondered what it’d be like to burn with you in my arms.”
Buffy felt a warmth spread through her at his admission. “Always?”
“Always.” The poet rose to the surface, refusing to be silenced. “From the first night I saw you dancin’ at the Bronze. There was somethin’ about you... drawin’ me in.” Spike chuckled, pasting his trademark grin on his face. “Course, at the time I was wantin’ to kill you.”
“And now?”
"Now, I just want to love you.” Spike paused, frowning thoughtfully. “Well, that an’ shag you seven ways from Sunday of course...”
“Of course.” Buffy giggled, moving into his arms. Their mouths met in a lingering kiss, and the Slayer found herself wondering about the diverse paths her life could have taken.
“Penny for your thoughts, love.”
Buffy blinked, banishing the images as she became lost in the fathomless blue of his eyes. “I was thinking about the past. How different things might’ve been if I’d met you sooner.” Reaching down, she laced their fingers together and brushed a kiss across Spike’s knuckles. “I wish you'd been my first,” she whispered, blushing at the absurdity of her words. “Maybe then I could have avoided all the crap it took to get to this point.”
Spike’s eyes lit up as he swept his gaze over her naked form. “Mmm,” he drawled, running his tongue over his teeth. “Sweet, virginal, Buffy.” He received a playful swat to his chest, and snickering, brought his free hand up to twine in her hair. “Delicious though the thought of deflowerin’ your jailbait self might be, pet, it wouldn’t have worked... I wasn't ready.”
“Me either.” Buffy lowered her head to the pillow. “I guess we've both grown up, huh?”
A gentle smile formed on Spike’s lips as he absorbed the perfection of this moment. “It’s never been like that for me either,” he said, his voice soft and hesitant. “Vamp sex is rough. More about pain than pleasure. Not that there’s anythin’ wrong with a bit of rough an’ tumble, mind you, but bein’ with someone warm—feelin’ their heart beatin’, their pulse racin’ beneath the skin... I’ve never felt that before.”
Buffy frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said, raising a questioning eyebrow. “I thought you’d always been bad.”
“Yeah, well...” Embarrassed, Spike averted his eyes. “About that...”
“Okay. Be kind. Rewind.” Buffy sat up on the bed, folding her arms across her chest. “Are you seriously telling me you weren’t… you know… back when you were human?”
Spike snorted, reaching for his cigarettes as he rested his back against the headboard. “Not bloody likely.” Chuckling, he lit up, expelling a plume of smoke into the air. He had no idea what inspired this sudden bout of introspection. Maybe it was the surreal virtues of the night, but regardless, Spike wanted to share a piece of himself with Buffy, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be ridiculed as he’d been so cruelly in the past.
“I lied to you before,” he said, shaking his head. “That night at the Bronze? Truth is William was the biggest geek in London. With the mousey curls and god-awful poetry—Ol’ Rupes had nothin’ on him, love. He was stuffy an’ awkward... could barely talk to a woman, never mind get one between the sheets.”
The ease in which he talked of his not-so-bad days was surprising. There was a depreciative quality in Spike’s tone, but despite the vampire’s propensity to compartmentalize his life, it was clear that his humanity had held firm long after the demon took up residence in his body. William was never far beneath the surface, and Buffy was catching tantalising glimpses of his character with increasing regularity. Let Spike keep his delusions if it made him happy; Buffy already knew the man behind the monster.
“I think I’d have liked him,” she replied, grinning at his incredulous look.
“He was a ponce.” Spike took an extended drag of his cigarette then ran a hand through his hair. “Made a complete arse of myself on more than one occasion... Thought I was in love, you see. And Cecily, she—”
“Cecily?” If Spike noticed the resentment in her voice he didn’t make mention of it, preferring instead, to wrap his arm around her shoulder, and drop a kiss to her hair in wordless reassurance.
“Society girl,” Spike replied, hiding his smile in her golden tresses. “I thought she was mysterious, turns out she was just a stuck-up bitch an’ I was too stupid to see it.” Nimble fingers painted circles on her arm, and Buffy melted into the comfort of his embrace. “Anyway, one night the bint tore my heart out an’ Dru found me cryin’ in a back alley... the rest is history. She saved me from mediocrity—made me a man. I may well be the only monogamous vamp around but I didn’t want anyone else... even when she was off spreadin’ her legs for every slimy-horned wanker that crossed her path.”
In the early days of his obsession, Spike had attempted to vanquish his Buffy-lust by bedding a string of faceless blondes. In a town like Sunnydale, fledgling vamps were a dime a dozen, and there was always some tarty young thing eager to get a piece of the notorious Slayer of Slayers. Nevertheless, it hadn’t taken long to realise the futility of his actions, and there was only so many times a bloke could handle being slapped for bellowing out the wrong name in the heat of the moment to make him rethink his plan.
Buffy frowned at his surprising statement. She’d always assumed that for vampires, sex and blood went hand-in-hand. How was it possible that this man who practically exuded sexuality, had never combined the two in his pre-chipped days?
“But what about—”
“I don’t play with my food, love.” Spike scowled as Buffy arched a brow, before reaching across to tap his cigarette against the ashtray beside his bed. “You,” he said, fingers running reverently over his proud bite mark, “are not food. You’re...”
“What?”
Spike smiled. “Everythin’.”
A pink flush spread over Buffy’s cheeks as she realised what that meant. “So,” she said, her nose scrunching up in a manner that Spike found adorable. “I’m the only pulse-having woman you’ve—”
“Shagged? Screwed? Bumped uglies?” He chuckled at her disapproving glare. “Yeah, love. You get the honour of poppin’ that particular cherry.”
Buffy’s head tilted to the side as she considered him for a moment. “I like that.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.” She grinned. “The way I see it, that makes us even.”
Now, Spike considered himself an expert on his Slayer’s peculiarities, but that particular branch of Buffy-logic thoroughly escaped him. “Care to run that by me again, pet?”
Rolling her eyes, she knelt beside him on the bed. “This is a brand new start for me. It feels like I’m experiencing everything for the first time. It’s like a rebirth—this is my do-over.” Buffy offered him a grateful smile. “Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely.”
“Really?”
“No.”
Mingled laughter filled the air as Buffy smacked him on the shoulder. “Okay, let me make it easier for you.” She winked and pointed to herself. “New Buffy.” She kissed his cheek. “New life.” The other cheek. “New beginning.” Smiling, she leaned down to whisper against his lips. “That makes you my first.”
A surge of male pride rushed through him, and Spike wrapped his arm around Buffy’s waist, hauling her onto his lap in one fluid movement. “First an’ bloody only as far as I’m concerned.”
An irrational sense of jealousy flared within her as his lips caressed the smouldering cigarette. Determinedly, Buffy reached up to pluck it away, before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “So that’s the way it’s gonna be, huh?” Spike asked, eying his pilfered Marlboro. “Reckon you can fix my filthy habits now that you’ve sampled the wares.”
Buffy grinned, linking her hands behind his neck. “Nuh-uh,” she said nipping at his bottom lip. “I just figured we could put your mouth to better use.”
“Stay.” After several aborted attempts, Buffy had finally managed to extricate herself from Spike’s arms. The disgruntled vampire was currently sulking as he watched her move around his bedroom, gathering her scattered clothing. “Let your bloody mates stew for a bit. Might do ‘em some good to fend for themselves for once.”
Buffy sighed. “It’s not them I’m worried about.” She zipped up her skirt then squinted into the shadowy recesses of the crypt. “Dawn’s having a sleepover at Janice’s... I should get back before—have you seen my bra?”
Reluctantly, Spike rose from the bed and stepped into his jeans. For a brief moment his eyes shone yellow as he scanned the room, swiftly locating the missing undergarment and unhooking it from a ledge on the wall. “So what are you gonna tell the Bit?” he asked, handing it over. Spike couldn’t care less about the Scoobies’ good opinion, but Buffy and Dawn were the closest thing he had to family, and he needed to know where he stood.
Buffy frowned at the hint of insecurity in his voice. “She knows where I am, Spike. All things considered, there wasn’t much point in hiding it from her.”
Stunned, his eyebrows shot up. “You told little sis you were stayin’ over?” Bearing in mind the revelations of the past twenty-four hours, Spike supposed he shouldn’t be at all surprised by that fact. The Niblet was his biggest supporter when it came to his feelings for Buffy. She was a smart kid—too bloody smart sometimes—and she’d have figured it out soon enough anyhow. They could barely keep their hands off each other and—Wait a minute.
“You talked sex with Dawn!”
An inelegant snort passed her lips. “It was more like the other way round,” Buffy replied, fastening her bra, and smiling at the petulant look on Spike’s face. “So not an experience I want to repeat any time soon.”
Spike sniggered. “Not fun?”
“Oh, sure.” Buffy wound her arms around his waist. “In the way that’s really not.” Leaning up she stole a quick kiss from his lips. “Just wait till she gets you alone,” she said, giggling at the momentary glimpse of panic in his eyes. “Then we’ll see whose laughing.”
Spike didn’t even want to hear the words Dawn and sex in the same sentence. He had already decided to scare off any pimply faced punks who so much as dared to look at his Niblet. The idea of the youngest Summers getting up to the sort of things that—Well... the sort of things that he’d been doing for the last several hours, was more than he cared to acknowledge.
“You sure I can’t convince you to stay?”
Buffy pulled away from his arms, sighing, as she scooped her top up from the floor. “Tempting,” she replied, inspecting the damage caused by Spike’s earlier impatience, “but I really do have to go.” Not a single button had withstood her vampire’s passionate frenzy, and clearly the shirt was a lost cause. Tossing the ruined item to the ground, Buffy glanced around the crypt in search of an ulterior solution. “I don’t suppose you still have any of my clothes here, do you?”
There was a tense beat before Spike’s words broke the silence. “No, I... I gave it all back.” Perturbed, his hand came up to clasp the back of his neck. “It was too painful havin’ them here. A constant bloody reminder of everythin’ I’d lost. They were just things—I didn’ want them. I wanted...”
The sobriety in his voice made Buffy immediately regret her casual remark. Wincing, she walked towards him and cupped his cheeks in her palm. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Spike sighed. “Don’t be. It’s in the past, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Smiling, he dipped his head and covered Buffy’s mouth in a tender kiss. The Slayer could feel that familiar ache building inside her, and summoning her rapidly decreasing willpower, she pulled away and ended their embrace. Turning, she walked over to the armoire and gathered Spike’s discarded t-shirt from the floor. “Mind if I borrow this?”
“Go ahead.” A wave of possessiveness swept over him at the sight of his girl wearing his clothes, sporting his mark on her neck. “So, what’re your plans for the day?” Spike asked, reaching up to free her hair from beneath the collar. “They oughta be pretty bleedin’ spectacular if you’re willin’ to pass up the chance of spendin’ it in bed with me.”
Buffy pouted. “First, I need to check for teenager-related mischief, then I get to spend my Saturday exploring the exciting world of gainful employment,” she said, sending a longing glance towards the infamous bed. “Lucky me.”
Spike frowned. “You already have a job.”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied, “but demon slayage doesn’t come with a steady wage or vacation days.”
“Well it bloody well should!” Spike could feel his anger rising as he thought of the thankless life his Slayer led. “Do those tweed-wearin’ pillocks think you’re doin’ this for laughs? They oughtta be payin’ you for all the times you’ve saved their ungrateful arses... not to mention the whole soddin’ world!”
Buffy could only shrug. “Apparently the Council doesn’t agree with you.”
Spike stopped his furious pacing and came to stand before her. “I can get money,” he said, placing his hands on her waist. His eyes burned with intensity as the earnestness in his voice washed over her. “You’ve already had your fill of customer service, an’ I won’t see you flippin’ burgers for minimum wage. You’re better than that, pet. Let me help you.”
Buffy swallowed hard, anxiety burning away in her stomach. “I can’t let you steal for me, Spike. I know I’m very much in the grey area of vampire and slayer relations, but that would be a step too far.”
The gentle smile that split Spike’s lips was a comfort to her overwrought nerves. “What if it was above board?” he asked, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been around for a few years, sweetheart. Learned some tricks in my time—investments an’ the likes. A few phone calls an’ the money could be in your account within days.”
Buffy blinked. Hard. “Are you serious?”
A chuckle rose in Spike’s throat at the unmitigated astonishment on his girl’s face. “The gem of Amara wasn’t the only treasure down in that cave, pet, an’ I know a demon down in Texas that’ll pay a pretty penny for those other trinkets.” Grinning, he pressed a kiss to Buffy’s lips. “I’m a simple vamp. All I need to keep me happy is a packet of fags, booze, blood an’ the occasional plate of barbecue wings. It doesn’t cost much to keep me in the manner I’m accustomed, sweetling, but if a bloke’s gonna live forever, he needs a backup plan.”
Frowning, Buffy took a step back. Her mind was spinning from the unexpected news, and she was unsure of what to call him on first. “Then why have you been taking cash from us all this time?” she said, shaking her head in an effort to clear her muddled thoughts. “Why didn’t you just use your own?”
Spike smiled. “Now where's the fun in that?” He closed the gap between them, taking Buffy’s hands in his own, secure grasp. “Those initiative wankers did a right number on me. Had to get my jollies somewhere, an’ pissin’ off Rupes and the whelp seemed as good a place as any... wasn’t like I could do sod all else was it?”
“Spike—”
“No arguments.” Buffy’s words died in her throat, as he leaned forward, pressing his brow against hers. “I know how bloody proud you are—stubborn too—but I’m not takin’ no for an answer. If you won’t accept it for you, then take it for the Niblet.”
Spike wasn’t above a little emotional blackmail if it meant his hard-headed Slayer would benefit in the long run. In recent weeks he’d been trying to think of a way to alleviate Buffy’s financial worries—preferably a way that was far less hassle than peddling Suvolte demon eggs on the Black Market. A legal team as unscrupulous as Wolfram and Hart would have little trouble accessing his family’s estate, and at one point, Spike had even considered recruiting her Watcher to help construct a believable ruse—but this was perfect. This was honest. This was the way it should have been all along.
“What do you say, pet?”
Buffy’s heart was singing as the mammoth burden was lifted from her troubled mind. Nevertheless, conveying the magnitude of Spike’s generous offer was another matter entirely. To go from the possibility of repossession, to the security of having funds in the bank would take some getting used to. And for now, Buffy was too overwhelmed to fathom the transition. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, unable to mask the gratitude that flooded her voice.
Spike shrugged. “Had to make sure you didn’t want me for my money.” The resultant eye-roll was fully expected, and he continued in a flat deadpan. “A bloke needs to be careful, you know?”
“And to that, I say goodbye.” With a reluctant glance towards the hatch, Buffy released a heavy sigh, then leaned up to cover his mouth in a searing kiss, love and appreciation flowing through the melding of their lips. “Thank you.”
In an instant, Spike’s hands fell to her waist, and with slow, faltering steps, they shuffled backwards towards the ladder. They broke apart panting, and Buffy offered an apologetic smile as she climbed to the upper level. Spike followed closely at her heels, and no sooner did their feet meet the rough floor, were they back in each other’s arms, limbs tangling as they stumbled across the chamber, finally separating when the Slayer’s back hit the cold slab of the crypt door.
Possessively, Buffy’s fingers fell to the contours of Spike’s naked stomach, then slid up, tracing over the corded muscles of his shoulders and arms. The vampire’s skin was flushed with borrowed warmth from the night’s exertions, and as Spike swooped in to plunder her mouth in another demanding kiss—drinking his full of Buffy’s lips until they could meet again—he felt a sense of déjà vu wash over him as the Slayer once again pressed something into his palm.
“Maybe you can start a new collection?” she said, grinning widely as Spike twirled the lacy thong around his index finger.
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Chapter End Notes:
*Happy sigh* After all these two have been through, I figured they deserved a chapter of post-coital fluff! Only one more chapter and the epilogue to go, guys, then it’s a wrap. I’ve been bitten by an evil plot bunny lately so with any luck (and if my muse cooperates) I’ll have something new and angsty to post in a few weeks time. *huggles*