Chapter 8


"So tell me then, if I have it wrong, why is the Slayer of Slayers denying the kill?"

Spike glared as he neared the vampire, prominently raising his hands to rest on his hips, "Well, as you've so perceptively pointed out, not a vamp anymore. Can't jus' flutter 'round killin' people, and the Slayer is the protection to have." He paused before adding with a smug expression, "Plus, she's one hellava shag." They both cracked a chuckle.

"I see." Colton took Spike by the shoulder, "Least you're not too attached." It was a statement, but he meant it as a question, using it to gauge a reaction.

Spike's scarred brow lifted, "Please. The only thing I'd miss from that crazy bird is that deliciously toned body."

"Ahh. Well then, seems I have a solution to both your quandaries," Colton assured while patting Spike's upper back.

His black tipped fingers fished out a pack of smokes from his pocket. He took his time plucking a cigarette from the box to put between his lips. Once he lit it and took a long drag, he questioned, "Jus' what is it you have in mind mate?"

Now he was getting somewhere. Colton was up to something, as usual, and Spike was highly intrigued because it had to do with his woman. So far he was eating up every word Spike said, but soon words wouldn’t be enough.

****

Buffy is in a tremendous amount of danger now, and it was all his fault. True, she is always facing potential life threatening beasties, and once upon a time, Spike had been one of them. Although, looking back, he had plenty moments in his favor when he could have snapped her neck or sunk his fangs in, but never did because somewhere deep down he couldn't bring himself to do it. In all honesty, he had to much fun fighting her, thinking how wonderfully brilliant she was when all worked up, and he didn't want that to end. Not then, not now, not ever. Yet, he is responsible for putting her in harms way of a demon he hoped would never show his face again, and now he was powerless to stop him. This wasn't her fight to risk her neck. No, it was his, and since he had created it, he would end it.

Colton. A piss poor use of human life turned to the darkness. Obviously it was a regrettable mistake on Spikes part, but how was he to know? He was just a fledging himself, a newly risen member of hell, and had not learned of these things yet. Creating a new world, siring new existence, was a profound experience. The connections are unlike any human blood ties. They are impenetrable and cannot be imitated. The bond is superior to any other ritualistic union and was only broken when one parcel perished, but even then the suffering is shared. Feeling, sensations, pain, it’s all illuminated through forces unknown between a sire and their childe. It was the sort of thing that was thought to be a prolific progression in a vampire’s lifetime.

Spike was unaware of the significance behind making a new generation when he stood across the cobble stone street of that local pub, observing a boy being shoved and talked at like he was an insolent pest. He seemed like a proper gentleman, but one who was too shy and weak to stand up for himself, reminding Spike of some else he used to know. That was when something sparked within, a return the favor sort.

****

It was too dark to really see out there, shadows overcast their faces, but the dim street lamps provided enough for outlines to show visibly. There were two figures, though one was rather stand offish, they seemed to get along alright as they stood, talking with one another.

She was spying. To get a better look, Buffy tiptoed into her mother’s old room, careful not to disturb Willows peaceful slumber, and was being sly as she peeped out the back window into the alley. Generally speaking, it was wrong to spy and pry into other peoples business, but there were always exceptions to those legalities. Under the circumstances, she thought sticking her nose into why Spike was being sneaky and making lame excuses to leave was perfectly acceptable. For whatever reason, this person was important enough for him to leave suddenly and have a secret meeting in the middle of the night, and that made her uneasy.

****

Everything was different now. Spike isn’t a vampire anymore, which meant all of her reasons for not allowing herself to get involved- in the relationship way- with him have flown out the window and some she tossed out that proverbial window herself. Buffy could never face her friends and let them know how sick and demented she was for being with an evil, soulless thing, but things have changed. Even when she would wake in his arms after long hours of activity, she would will herself back to the dreamland she came from because she wasn’t ready to leave his protective embrace. She dreamt of simple things that she wanted to share with him, cooking breakfast together, making rounds in the super market, or just having him to laugh with, but she’d never tell Spike that because it’d just raise his hopes and make it so much harder for her to act as if she didn’t care.

Buffy hated herself for being so selfish and for treating Spike like she had. She told him as much when she came to him in the lower level of his crypt. Now, she had the opportunity to reconcile, not just with him, but herself as well. Her friends couldn’t look down upon her, Spike was alive, in the heart beating, lungs breathing sense, which meant she could give Spike and her what they wanted and value Spike for who he was. Maybe, just maybe, the world and all its forces against her would permit her an ounce of a normal life.

****

Early mornings were usually reserved for old people who were out scurrying around looking for a good garage sale to rummage through, or those plain early risers who had no real reason to get out of bed besides not wanting to feel as if they’ve wasted the day. Buffy had been awake since daybreak, and was currently trekking through the morning dew in the most human populated cemetery in Sunnydale. Starting things off with Spike in a positive light was so important to her, that she wanted to show him how serious she was truly taking this entire matter. Having known for quite a while that he deeply loved her, and that it wasn’t just infatuation, she felt it was time to finally welcome it instead of not acknowledging his feelings.

The aged rusty hinges groaned as she pushed the iron door open, letting in the sun’s beams. The make shift home Spike made livable was actually very cozy and she always felt comfortable within its walls. The upper level was empty, but making the assumption the blond was sleeping in the disaster area downstairs, she descended down the ladder as discretely as possible. He must have gotten a new bed set because Buffy's previous prediction was correct; Spike was passed out on the large mattress. He was sprawled out on his stomach, and as was habit, very much naked. The white sheet barely covered his form, leaving those cute dimples right above his butt visible for Buffy to ogle as she ambled closer. The next step would be the challenge, trying to wake Spike was like trying to wake a coma patient.

"Spike?" Buffy inched closer, "Spike." Nothing. "Spike!" She reached out, palming his bare shoulder and shaking him, "Spike!" Even when he was dead, it wasn't this hard to get his ass out of bed.

His only reaction was a low rumble in his chest when he moaned, "Mmm..."

Crinkling her nose, she chose a different approach and leaned down, tickling his ear as she spoke, "Spike, I want you, right now. If you wake up, I'll give you the best blo-" His eye popped open instantly, and Buffy smiled sweetly, "Morning."

"Makin' up bluffs like that won't win a bloke over," he informed her in a groggy morning voice.

"I had to switch tactics; it was reserved as my last resort. Besides, not like I had many options, have you ever tried to wake you up?"

Spike rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his fist. The linen draped over his waist slid even further down his hips, giving the appearance he was posing for an Abercrombie and Fitch photo shoot. He really did have an amazing body, plus his hair had that sexy, messy curl look, and Buffy’s eyes couldn’t help but trail the length of his torso two times over before she sat on the edge of the bed where he’d made room for her.

“What brings a lady to visit a fella in a place like this?” Spike asked, referring to the charred debris that lay all around them.

“Well, I couldn’t really sleep last night. After everything... and I started thinking... it sounds pretty silly now that I’m saying it out loud, but...,” her fingers were nervously fiddling with the edge of the bed sheet.

Spike covered her hands with his free one, “Buffy?” His heart swelled at how she didn’t even try to pull away.

“I was just thinking that... it’s been over a hundred years since you’ve been outside in the daylight, and it’s a big deal ya know? So, I thought, if you want me to, I could be there with you... taking that step. We could make a day of it.”

He was in a complete state of awe. She wanted to be with him as he first stepped into the sun? It was so small, but it meant the world to him. The fact that she offered to stand beside him as he embraced this new life so he wouldn’t be alone was astounding, but what made it truly remarkable, was that she wanted to be there so they could experience it together.

“Sounds perfect, luv.”

Buffy looked up, “Really?”

He smiled, "Yeah, really."

She stood with a bright beam on her face, "Okay, I'll be waiting upstairs." Was she actually nervous about spending the day with him? It was just Spike. She's been around him many times before, but now she felt shaky and out of breath from anticipation as she began climbing the ladder.

Getting ready for Spike consisted of a quick shower and choosing which of his many black jeans and tees to wear, she wouldn't be waiting for long. He was in the process of heading over to the improvised shower he had rigged, watching his girl leave the cavern, enjoying her wriggling ass, "Buffy."

Pausing and looking back, "Hmm?"

"Good morning."





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