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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry this chapter is so short, but I thought we could use a bit of a breather after all the action of the last one. This is unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.
Previously:



Of all the things he'd seen in his short, strange life, Riley never imagined he would witness a monster singing a lullaby. He went to the control panel and shut off the feed from their cell.



"Yeah, I'm a good man," Riley said, bitterly.



~*~*~*~



The New Dog

by Linda Pastan



Into the gravity of my life,

the serious ceremonies

of polish and paper

and pen, has come



this manic animal

whose innocent disruptions

make nonsense

of my old simplicities--



as if I needed him

to prove again that after

all the careful planning,

anything can happen.





~*~*~*~

She'd woken up to the pain of a scalpel cutting into her skin and Professor Walsh's pensive face looking down at her. Buffy had been paralyzed by the lingering affects of anesthesia. She couldn't scream or move as her teacher sliced her open with the blade. Then she was wheeled down the corridor under the scant protection of a sheet while the inmates howled for her blood. The indignities mounted and she didn't wonder why Walsh took her clothes away. It was all designed to make her feel like she was less of a human being.



That's why the soldiers stood outside their cell watching Spike tend to her wounds. That's why someone was probably still watching them.



Tears were snaking out of the corners of Buffy's eyes and she didn't know how to make it stop.



None of it would stop.



Spike was kneeling on the floor beside Buffy's cot, holding her left hand in both of his. He felt hot; not just normal body temp, which would have been strange for Spike, but like a man with a fever. After he'd finished his song she'd begged him for another. He gave up after singing all the tracks from, "God Save the Queen," and they'd just been staring at each other.



"Say something to me, Slayer," Spike whispered.



"Angel is gone," Buffy said. The dreaded certainty had settled in her gut before she'd fully regained consciousness.



"I know. Family connection and all that."



Buffy reached over and hugged Spike. It was a comfort not having to explain how she'd felt the loss through her blood. She withdrew from the embrace and leaned back on the mattress.



"Do you...do you miss him? I know you two never got along even when you were both evil, except for the orgying part."



Spike's head dipped and he gave her a sneer.



"Sometimes not even then."



"But like you said, you were lovers. I mean you must have felt something for him, right?"



His eyes seemed to expand and his lips were pressed tightly together.



"It was complicated."



His expression and the veneer of snark every time he talked about sex with Angel finally brought her to an obvious conclusion. Buffy felt ashamed of her own naivety.



"He forced himself on you, didn't he?"



"Buffy, he's dead now. It doesn't matter."



"It does to me."



Spike took a breath and gave her a level gaze, the overhead light catching his eyes so they turned glacier blue.



"I never knew the person you fell in love with. Angelus was a different man."



"That's not totally true though, is it?" she asked, her voice pitching higher, "Sometimes I feel...I felt like he manipulated me, he'd go behind my back for my own good like I was this little school girl with a crush." Buffy covered her face with her hands."God, I sound like I don't even love him."



"No, you don't," Spike said, collecting the upper half of her body into his arms. He spoke quietly at her ear while he held her. "Yeah, at first it was punishment; establish the pecking order. But whose to say I wouldn't have done the same if I'd been the stronger one? You know what sort of creatures vampires are. They just take what they want. In the end I gave as good as I got with him and he taught me a few things along the way. We made a good team. He helped me get Dru back when she was kidnapped by a rival clan in St. Petersberg. He fought by my side, had my back. When the three of us were together again it was almost sweet."



Buffy loosened her hold on him and studied Spike's face.



"So you were like all together all together?" she asked, her eyebrow arched.



"You've got a filthy mind, Slayer, but what else should I expect from a bloody teenager. What I'm saying is that yeah, there were seeds of your Angel in my Angelus. And I've no doubt he loved you. Never seen him care for a woman the way he did you, not even Darla."



"Really?"



"Really."



"When he left it was the worst, but in this weird way I was grateful, too. It almost hurt more to be near him than it did to be away," Buffy said.



"So close but you can't touch."



"Yeah."



"That's a special kind of hell," Spike said.



They gazed at one another for a pregnant moment. Suddenly Angel was not the vampire foremost in her mind. Spike touched her cheek and bit his tumescent lower lip in a way that he had to know would drive her crazy. She raised a shaky finger and traced the outline of his soft, red mouth. The neon lighting in her too-white cell made his skin translucent and he could see the delicate blue veins swollen with her blood winding just beneath his flesh. Even though it was wrong, she liked knowing part of her was inside of him.



Spike let her continue to explore his face with light fingers. She touched the scar above his left eyebrow that twigged like the tributaries of a river. His long lashes swept against the underside of her arm as she caressed the mark, sending ticklish sparks through her body. His nostrils flared when her hand passed over the bridge of his nose. She brushed his throat and he swallowed hard. Buffy took her hands away for a moment and then leaned over to slide them under the hem of his t-shirt. He stilled, deliberating, then helped her lift the fabric up over his head. He didn't make a sound, but his eyes seemed to be speaking. They looked terrified and hopeful all at once.



Buffy sat up on the cot, which made the metal frame squeak. Her legs were far apart and dangled over the edge of the mattress. She didn't know how to say what she wanted from him. It might have been different if they were alone but to expose her need further in this horrible place was too much humiliation. She wanted her body back. She wanted the ache of each incremental loss to cease, even if it was only for a little while. Buffy told herself this wasn't giving up even if it was giving in. She spread the coat open, offering her body to his conflicted gaze.



Spike's dark brows crumpled together. He rose slightly and then hugged her close.



"Are you here with me, Buffy?"



"What?"



He held her at arms' length, both hands spread out on the sides of her face. His fingers threaded through her short hair, reminding her of something else she'd lost.



"Is it you who wants this or is me needing you so bloody much?" he asked, giving her head a gentle shake. Buffy closed her eyes.



"Spike, please—"



"You have to drink some of my blood."



Her lids opened and she wrenched herself away from him.



"No!" Buffy said as she scuttled backward until her back was against the wall. "I'm not letting you turn me."



Spike leaned back on his heels.



"Wouldn't turn you, just trying to even the score."



"Why would I need to do that?"



"You're too much temptation all alone like this. I don't want to bite you, love."



"So don't."



"It's not that simple; not when they're forcing me to feed from you."



His words reached Buffy through her fear. She knew he was being starved and understood to what purpose; they knew about the bond and would use Spike to control her. Goading him into biting her was probably the ultimate goal. Buffy couldn't let that happen but wished there was some other way. She remembered how quickly his body began to disintegrate after Drusilla drained him.



"I'll hurt you," Buffy said.



"You won't. It'll feel good to me, like it did for you," he said, cocking his head at her.



"Spike, I need you strong if we're going to get out."



"Please, love. Trust me. This is the only way we'll both make it."



She thought of what he was offering and felt revolted, even though she had been pretty eager to get cozy with some of his other bodily fluids a couple seconds before. This was way more intimate than sex, though, and the dangers were tenfold. It had taken nearly all her courage to offer herself to him and Buffy wasn't sure how much more she had left. His caution meant a great deal to her, though. He wanted her to be Buffy, not a shadow of herself. In that moment, she realized Spike's love for her was one of the few things she could rely upon there.



"I do trust you," Buffy said.



Spike placed a soft peck on her lips before he let her go. His face shifted into a series of lumps and ridges. He brought his wrist to his fangs and bit into the tapered joint, just as he had for Drusilla. Then he reached his arm toward her. Buffy fought back her repulsion and held his wound to her mouth, licking the red blood cautiously with the tip of her tongue. It was coppery with an odd, spicy undertone that reminded her of incense. Taking from him was making her wet and the more she took, the more she wanted. All the initial ickiness was gone. Buffy latched onto the broken skin and drank deeply. Spike stifled a groan and cupped her head. She took one more long pull and then let go. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.



"Was that good?" she whispered.



He lunged at her and kissed her open mouth. She sucked on his tongue and then teased it crudely without self-consciousness. He was on his knees in between her thighs and her pussy was brushing against his bare stomach as they kissed. His skin was still hot. The heat against her exposed sex made her feel dirty, dirtier still when he ground his belt buckle against her clit. The jolt of cool, sharp metal made her want to cry out. Buffy bit her lower lip instead.



She leaned away just long enough to undo his belt and take down his zipper. She reached into his pants. Her fingertips scraped against his pubic hair as she grabbed his cock. She'd never been so bold before, with the grabbing, but her desire for him exceeded her shame. His whole body shuddered as she squeezed his erection and she held him tight against her to keep him from falling over. She rested her head against his chest and stroked his length. Her tongue darted out from between her lips to taste his nipple. She blew on his wet skin and Spike gasped.



He grabbed her wrists and shoved her flat on the thin mattress. Spike brought her arms up over her head as he pounced on top of her. She landed with her legs splayed. His mouth moved over hers and he drove his cock inside of her damp, narrow slit. When he penetrated her, Buffy buried her face in the crook of his arm, biting his bicep to keep from screaming. The friction from his body was burning her from the inside and her tears returned.



Spike stopped moving and abruptly let go of her hands. He propped himself up like he was doing a push up and looked into her eyes.



"You tell me when to move, love," he said.



"I can't, not when they can hear," she said.



"Then show me," he said, taking her hands and placing them on the hard curve of his ass. She slid his jeans further down. Buffy closed her eyes and willed herself to let go. As she relaxed the walls of her vagina seemed to shimmer and bow to accommodate his invading flesh. She gave him a slap on the bottom and he smirked down at her. His hips started churning slowly against hers in time with the way she kneaded his ass. He went faster and faster until his cock stirred up so much moisture their bodies met with a splash.



She kissed his eyes and his clenched jaw. All the muscles in his neck and shoulders were sharpened by his concentration. His chin was thrust out and his lower lip was curling under smugly, like it was taking all his power not to start bragging about how good he was at getting her off. She wished he would, but they were both trying to be quiet. Silence was the last form of privacy they had.



He pounded into her and she was eddied by the overwhelming sensation until the orgasm finally crashed through her body. Spike sped up his pace as she spasmed around him. His body jerked and then he collapsed on top of her, panting like a drowning man who'd just clawed his way to shore. Spike was gone a moment, before settling back on top of her with the blanket. Buffy petted his short, soft, brown hair and he nuzzled against her chest.



She was hovering near sleep when his hands on her breasts became more insistent. It felt almost too much but still good. She looked down at him and smiled at the way he was gazing at her nipples. He seemed to think making them hard was an incredible accomplishment. He bit the tip of her breast and her back arched off of the cot.



"Love the way you look in this coat with your tits out. Like a dream come true," he whispered.



"Dirty," she said, a sleepy smile poured on her face.






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