CHAPTER FOUR:

It had been three days since Spike had fallen from the tower. Three days of him lying unmoving and unconscious. Three days of worrying and fussing by the Summers family and still...nothing. Not a flicker of movement or even a grating, shaky indrawn breath that he didn't need. Three days of watching him waste away.

Life for the Scoobies had, pretty much, returned to normal. Tara and Willow visited as often as they could to check on Buffy and Dawn. Even Giles had made what could only be described as a 'flying visit' to see the situation for himself. Anya had put in an appearance as well, minus Xander at Joyce's insistence. He was still persona non grata as far as the Summers family was concerned. Tara enquired after Spike whenever they came over, but Joyce and Buffy found themselves repeating the same thing over and over again.

“Sorry, Tara, but he's still the same,” they would say with tight expressions of concern.

Dawn had barely left Spike's side except to use the bathroom, eat and, just recently, to sleep. She was now sleeping back in her room which put Buffy on the couch, as Joyce still occupied her room. The arrangements weren't ideal, but Joyce would have no arguments whenever the subject had been broached by their visitors regarding moving Spike to the basement.

“He stays, end of discussion,” was the most anyone had managed to get out of Joyce. Most of the time a stern look was all that was necessary to forestall the beginnings of a conversation on the subject.

The most worrying thing was that none of them had been able to get Spike to feed in those three days. As a result, Spike's injuries were healing at a painfully slow rate, his wounds still open and raw and the bruising covering most of his body had taken on a vivid black and blue colour with angry purple filling the spaces in-between.

Although going three days without feeding wouldn't be a hardship under normal circumstances, Spike's circumstances were far from normal. He'd already begun to look emaciated from lack of sustenance. His eyes were set in deep, dark hallows, and his cheekbones stood out against his bruised skin like knife blades. It wouldn't be long before he was nothing but skin and bones...and then what? How long could this continue? Could a vampire actually dust from starvation? No one really knew the answer to that. Hadn't Spike mentioned something about 'living skeletons' after first getting chipped? But just how long could vampires live as skeletons?

The dozen or so attempts at feeding him had ended up with nothing more than the blood simply pooling in his mouth and flowing out again. His throat seemed to be completely closed up – non functioning. There wasn't even a gag reflex to blood settling on the back of the vamps tongue. No matter how they tried, nothing they did could get Spike to actually swallow the blood. This, in turn, necessitated the daily changing of the bed linen by Dawn as Buffy and Joyce tried to cradle Spike's broken figure as best they could between them. To say they were frustrated, as well as concerned and anxious, would be a gross understatement.

Joyce came into her room the morning of that third day with another mug of blood and the books that Dawn had asked her to find.

Normally, Dawn had to be dragged away from the television, so Joyce was surprised when her youngest had asked her to look for her collection of Harry Potter novels. But, looking at her daughter and the concern she was showing for her friend, it was clear to Joyce that she'd asked for the books so she could stay with Spike.

Placing the mug on the bed-side table and handing Dawn her books, Joyce observed the quick new routine that she had acquired since the vampire had become her house-guest. Walking to the windows, she made certain that the heavy black blanket was securely fastened to the wall, covering the thick dark curtains that had been placed over the windows that first night. Satisfied that everything was in order, she moved back to the table and was just about to start trying to feed Spike when Buffy came in, returning from the bathroom.

“Uh, Mom? Why don't you let me do that? Just in case... and Dawn? You should know by now, we've been over this before.”

“But, Buffy, it'll be fine, he won't d-”

“No! God, how many times do I have to say this? It's only for a couple of minutes, and it's just... it's just in case, OK?”

Dawn grumbled under her breath as she got up off the bed and went to join her mother, who had backed away towards her vanity table on the other side of the room. They had agreed that Buffy would be the one to try and feed Spike, just in case his demon suddenly made an appearance that his conscious mind obviously couldn't control, being that he was unconscious.

“Buffy's right, honey, it's safer this way. Anyway, how do you think Spike would feel when he wakes up to find out he accidentally hurt one of us, hhmmm?”

Dawn was not happy at being ganged-up on but accepted her mom's reasoning. “Yeah, OK. But I still don't think anything’s gonna happen. I mean, from what Spike and Giles have told me the only thing that's gonna make his demon lose it like that is Slayer's bloo...” Dawn's eyes widened at this.

Joyce latched straight onto Dawn's train of thought.

“Of course! Buffy! Slayer's blood!” Joyce exclaimed turning wide, excited eyes to her eldest daughter. “We've been trying to get him to respond by giving him pig's blood. What about Slayer's blood? Your blood? We could try adding a couple of drops to the mug and see if that makes a difference?”

Buffy's initial thought was 'no way, uh uh, not happening' but seeing the hopeful look on her sister's and mother's faces made her stop and think again. 'OK, so maybe it's not that bad right? A few drops, I can spare that. Look at what he's sacrificed for me, for all three of us.' Remembering the letter she had read just two days ago finally convinced her inner sceptic. Buffy decided if she was gonna help Spike, she was gonna do it right.

“OK! OK! I’ll do it. But you're both gonna stay over there --I mean it, Dawn--” Buffy scowled, emphasizing her admonishment when her sister looked like she was gonna try and interrupt. “--you stay over there until I say so, or you can wait outside!”

Dawn pouted but nodded her head. “I'll stay,” she mumbled to her feet, loud enough for Buffy to hear.

“OK, then. Sorry to say it, but the same goes for you too, Mom. This could be dangerous and I will not have either of you hurt so you both stay there. Agreed?”

Joyce looked at her daughter with admiration. 'I raised a hell of a young woman, it turns out.' “I understand, Buffy. I promise we won't move.” She reached down and gripped Dawn's hand, and gave Buffy a firm nod.

Buffy glanced back to Spike and then her mother and sister. She knew this could be dangerous. If Spike's demon emerged in a feral state, he wouldn't be aware of his surroundings or conscious of who was in the room with him. Even the chip might not be enough to stop him from hurting someone. Buffy knew she could handle Spike if it came to a physical confrontation. In his current state he was no match for her, but her family...that was a different story altogether.

“Mom? Could you go to my room and grab a stake and some holy water from my chest in the closet? Just...in case?”

Dawn looked horrified at Buffy's suggestion as Joyce disappeared from the room. The youngest Summers was angry and hurt at the accusation she thought she heard in her sister's tone.

“No arguments, Dawn! It's just in case, OK? I don't think we're gonna need them...but... they're for you and Mom, just in case.”

Joyce returned with her findings and pressed the small bottle of holy water and, Buffy noticed, a cross into her daughter's hand. Gripping the stake in her hand, Joyce once again nodded to Buffy.

Buffy reached over to the bed-side table and picked up the switchblade that had been put with the rest of Spike's things when Joyce had emptied the contents of his duster's pockets. Nicking the end of her index finger, she then held her hand over the mug and squeezed. A half-dozen drops later, the Slayer was dabbing at the end of her finger with a scrunched up ball of tissue paper that Dawn had produced from a jean pocket and thrown across the room to her.

Dawn and Joyce watched with bated breath as Buffy passed the mug under Spike's nose multiple times and got no response at all. Dawn was clearly disappointed; she thought she had come up with a solution to their problem.

“Sorry, Buffy, I honestly thought it would work,” she said dejectedly.

Buffy looked back at her mother and sister, the disappointment clearly visible on their faces, and decided that maybe more drastic action needed to be taken. Squeezing the tip of her index finger again to get a small droplet of blood to form, she slowly rubbed the finger, and blood, across Spike's lower lip. The reaction was slow but clearly visible to all, a soft growl rumbled in Spike's chest and his tongue slowly peeked out to lick away the Slayer's blood.

“Buffy! It worked! He moved! Spike moved!” Dawn all but shouted and made to move towards the pair on the bed before being restrained by Joyce, who was watching the events with concern.

“OK, new plan,” Buffy announced, buoyed by Spike's reaction. “I’m gonna feed him directly, only, I’m not sure I want you to see that. It's probably gonna hurt and -”

“Are you sure about this, Buffy? I trust Spike, you know that, but this...I don't know.” Joyce looked...uneasy at the prospect of letting her daughter feed Spike directly from her veins.

“MOM!” Dawn clearly didn't want to hear this coming from her mother. “He's not gonna hurt her, it's Spike!” she said with total conviction, as if that settled the argument. Joyce was about to protest to her youngest when Buffy intervened.

“I'll be fine. I can handle Spike, I promise. I mean look at him...He's not exactly in much of a condition to fight, is he? It's you two I’m worried about...maybe you should wait outside while I do this.”

Dawn's reaction was instantaneous. “I'm staying. It was my idea, so you're not gonna get rid of me that easily. Maybe it'll help, you never know...maybe Spike will sense us and it'll calm him...y'know?”

Buffy could tell Dawn was reaching at that point, desperate for any excuse to stay. Turning to her mother with a raised eyebrow, she silently put it to Joyce to decide.

Joyce remained silent for a long beat. Finally, making her decision, she spoke. “I’m staying...and so is your sister. I presume you're going to cut yourself?” Joyce's voice was firm and she had a determined look on her face that clearly meant that the subject was not open to debate.

At Buffy's nod she continued on. “Well then, I’ll get the first aid kit to clean you up once you're done. Dawn, could you go and get a glass of orange juice and some cookies, for when Buffy's finished?”

Buffy smiled at the pair as they left the room and turned back to the vampire responsible for all this fuss. “You'd better appreciate this, Spike, and you'd better wake up too.”

Buffy was either too proud or too embarrassed to admit to anyone else, but she missed Spike. She missed his snarky comebacks and his head-tilt complete with smug grin, and she really missed his blue eyes. That last bit she wasn't telling anybody, ever, but she really missed his blue eyes. The way he had looked at her ever since he'd revealed his feelings for her. She missed that look.

“Ready, honey?”

Buffy was startled out of her reverie by her mother's voice and, turning in the direction of the voice, noticed both she and Dawn had returned. Everything they had gone to get was now laid out on the table behind the pair of them.

“I guess I’m as ready as I’m gonna be...are you sure you want to stay? I mean, this may not be very...nice.”

Joyce looked at Dawn and got a nod so, turning back to Buffy, she spoke softly but with conviction. “We're staying.”

Again Buffy reached for the switchblade she had replaced on the bed-side table and, looking at Spike, blew out a slightly shaky breath. This was an unknown to her. When Angel had needed her blood, he had been overcome with blood-lust and had nearly drained her to the point of death, and all while being conscious. That was a luxury Spike didn't have at the moment, and she was concerned that once his demon appeared there would be no stopping it, even with the chip. The hope she clung to was that Spike's demon loved her as much as Spike himself. Maybe that would be enough...maybe.

Drawing the blade across her wrist, Buffy hissed in pain as the steel bit into her flesh and left a clean slice in her skin. It wasn't too deep but she made sure it bled freely before sitting on the bed on Spike's left side and moving her wrist under Spike's nose. A few seconds passed, and Buffy was just beginning to think that yet another attempt had failed, when Spike's face slowly morphed into his vampire visage. After another few moments his head moved, unconsciously it seemed, searching for the source of the aroma stirring him. Buffy held her arm still and allowed him to fasten his mouth over the wound. His fangs slid into her tender flesh like razors and he began pulling her life-blood from her veins in long, slow drafts.

'OH...MY...GOD!!' Buffy was completely unprepared for the bolt of pleasure that shot through her body, obliterating her nerve endings on its way. It was like someone had placed a river of molten pleasure inside her body between her clit and the base of her spine, and tide after tide of pure bliss rolled through her. Where her spine used to be was what could only now be described as a waterfall, with pulse after pulse of energy running up its length to finally detonate somewhere in her brain.

And what an exquisite detonation it was! She exploded from within with a warm feeling of completeness. That was the only way to describe it. She felt safe, loved, and home, not to mention soaked between her thighs! She could feel her juices flowing between her legs, dampening her panties and soaking through to her jeans.

Her racing heartbeat pulsed in her pussy-lips and her channel throbbed in need as more and more of her cream slid from her body. Buffy's flood of desire seemed to match the slow draw that Spike was eliciting from her wrist.

'OH, God, I think...yes...I'm gonna cum! I can't stop it! I’m gonna CUM!!!'

Buffy's body almost bowed in on itself as her abdominal muscles contracted and released uncontrollably. Her free hand shot to the back of Spike's head to hold him to her as her body convulsed in rhythmic contractions. Her orgasmic spasms were mirrored by her pussy's clenching and unclenching, forcing more liquid from her in what felt like small squirts. White light burst behind her eyes, blinding her, and the only thing she could focus on was sensation. Blissful, heavenly, overwhelming sensation.

She let out a soft whimper as she regained some of the breath that had been stolen from her, her orgasm apparently over, but it wasn't. This was just the trough between the first and a second, even larger one.

Her mouth clamped shut, grinding her teeth, as her eyes followed suit in preparation for something she had never experienced before. A true multiple orgasm.

It crashed through her body, causing the river from her clit to her spine to widen to an ocean, as more pleasure tried to force its way through her body. The waterfall could now be described as Niagara for its breadth and power. Exhilarating pulses of pure feeling surged up her body, as if in a race to be the first one to detonate a euphoric A-bomb in her brain. Only this time, they didn't detonate.

The rapturous feelings flowed back down her spine, pushing back to her clit and then pressing in further. The blissful flood surged deep into her core to find that spot high on the inside of her pussy to explode and pulse with wild abandon. The river of bliss crashed over her time and time again, drowning Buffy in a flood of ecstasy.

Buffy tried to breathe, but couldn't remember how. She tried to scream, but had no breath to fuel it. All she could do was give into the experience as her body surrendered to one...constant...orgasm, the likes of which she had never before experienced.

Buffy's body had folded in on itself; somehow she had lifted her legs onto the bed and brought her knees up to her chest. Her body had curled up into a tight ball, every muscle and tendon taut and straining under the constant convulsions caused by the waves of bliss washing over her. The only bits left free were her left wrist, which was still at Spike's mouth, and her right hand, still firmly planted on the back of Spike's skull, holding him in place.

The voice in her head was somewhere between sobbing and screaming 'OH...MY...GOD...I...CAN'T...STOP...CUMMMMIIINNNGGG!!

Buffy's body jerked and shook like electric current was being passed through her. Her mind was totally vacant --left the premises, gone to lunch, back in five minutes. Having been transported to Nirvana, Buffy hadn't noticed Joyce hurriedly shoo Dawn out of the room at the very first sign that maybe Spike wasn't hurting Buffy, and follow suit herself.

It was all too much for Buffy's conscious mind to handle, but not too much to numb her emotions to the experience or sensations washing over her. She teetered on the edge of a precipice, enjoying the thrill of balancing so high but hoping she didn't fall back to earth, because she didn't want to miss a second of feeling this exquisite pleasure.

Finally, just as her muscles were starting to protest the punishing rhythm of contractions they were being forced to endure, the release lessened to a more manageable point where Buffy wasn't so overwhelmed.

She found herself able to breathe again, noticing she was gulping in great lungfuls of air, and her sight had returned. She blinked a couple of times to clear the coloured spots from her vision and uncurled her quivering body to lie down next to Spike. No longer able to hold her arms up, she removed her wrist from his mouth and the hand from the back of his head. Glancing at her wrist briefly, she was surprised to see that it had stopped bleeding already. Slayer healing had its advantages!

As she came back to herself, she realised two things almost immediately. Spike was still unconscious, now back to his human visage, and purring softly. . 'Huh...Spike purrs, who would have thought?'

The second thing was, apart from some delicious aftershocks still causing the odd muscle twitch and jerk, she didn't feel drained or even light-headed in the slightest – well not from loss of blood, anyway.

'Angel's bite hurt like fuck and he nearly killed me. Spike's bite makes me cum uncontrollably and he stops before I’m anywhere near being in danger.' Buffy was pondering all the ramifications of this fact when her mother knocked on the door.

“Buffy? Are you OK in there?”

Buffy's cheeks flamed with embarrassment as she pushed back what her inner Buffy was telling her to say. Instead she answered using the functioning, rational part of her brain that had returned from its extended tour to parts unknown.

“I'm fine, Mom, you can come in now.” Buffy stayed on the bed as her mother came in, fearing her legs would not be able to support her weight. She did manage to sit up, folding her legs under her, so she was resting on her shins and knees. She turned an embarrassed look to her mother, hoping Joyce hadn't been present for the grand finalé.

Joyce was looking at Buffy with a strange expression; a sort of tight, controlled worry was the best thing Buffy's brain could come up with.

“Are you OK, sweetie? He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“I'm fine, Mom...” was what Buffy finally decided to say, after shouting down the more inappropriate things that a daughter really shouldn't say to her mother. “...he really didn't hurt me.”

A sudden flush came to Buffy's cheeks and her breathing suddenly became shallow and erratic on remembering the intensity of what had passed through her. Joyce looked relieved at Buffy's assurance as she moved further into the room, then her eyes suddenly widened to almost comical proportions as the reality of what had happened to her daughter sunk in.

“Oh...OH! ...Well, um, I...I...” Joyce stammered, taking in Buffy's glow, her glistening skin, and breathlessness. That was as far as she got before her amusement at Buffy's mortified expression overtook her. Joyce lifted a hand to her mouth to cover her smile, but she couldn't contain her mirth. In the next moment she burst into laughter at her daughter's reply and embarrassed expression.

Buffy glowered at her mother for several moments. She thought this was funny? There was no funny here! Buffy's annoyance only made Joyce laugh harder, doubling over on fits of glee. Buffy rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together tightly, trying to keep herself from smiling as her mother's contagious laughter washed over her. Buffy shook her head and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as if looking for strength from the heavens, but it was a lost cause. A small giggle slipped from her lips and she knew then the war was lost.

Before long, they were both laughing uncontrollably about the situation that they found themselves in. It was into this that Dawn walked a minute or so later. Dawn looked from one to the other of them, waiting for some explanation, but they paid her no mind. The youngest Summers girl huffed in disdain and folded her arms over her chest, but still they didn't notice. Dawn finally just rolled her eyes in exasperation and walked back out the room, completely oblivious to what had happened or what they found so amusing.

“So I suppose you'll be feeding Spike again?” Joyce asked between giggles.

Buffy's face flushed hot and turned an even brighter shade of pink, but she couldn't stop the giggles that burbled through her words. “Well...I suppose I do owe him that much. I mean... it's a sacrifice, but...Slayer here-- I’m all about sacrifices.”