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Chapter 32

Buffy exited the bathroom stall and looked at her face in the mirror. She really was a mess. Mascara and eyeliner streaked her face. Spike's attempt to clean off her face had only spread the black streaks left and right.

She took some hand towels from the dispenser and began to clean herself up. She felt a little silly. Why should it have mattered that her father had taken some other kid to the ice show? He'd left her life years before. He'd missed weekends, birthdays, graduation, and Christmases. The first year after they'd moved to Sunnydale, she and Dawn had spent the summer with him. But since then they hadn't spent much time with him.

It wasn't fair that he could be so small a part of her life, and still hurt her so much.

At least she had Spike to hold on to. He must think her the biggest cry baby. How many times in the last month or so had she ended up crying in his arms? And every time when she was done crying, she felt better. Felt like she'd been purged of some of her fear or grief.

It made her almost regret the blowjob she'd given him earlier. She wanted some way to pay him back for being so patient with her. For taking such good care of her. She could go down on him again, but that seemed to lack originality.

She laughed. She'd forgotten this was Spike she was thinking about. She could just ask him what he wanted. He wasn't like Riley who saw sex as something to be done, but not talked about. She would have to thank him for telling her how to blow him. For the first time she hadn't felt clumsy and unsure. On the other hand, maybe she should also let him know that she wasn't big on swallowing. She'd wanted to try it, to find out what it was like. It wasn't bad. . . she just didn't want to be expected to do it every time. She smiled knowing that she could tell him that. It would embarrass her, she would probably blush, but she could tell him, and it would be okay.

That's when she realized Spike wasn't okay. Her vampire detecting senses had been steadily becoming more and more attuned to Spike with every encounter. She was no longer just aware of his location but had begun to be sensitive to his moods as well. At first she just thought she was picking up on his body language, but right now, when she couldn't see him, there was no denying that some sort of deeper connection was growing between them.

Spike was upset and agitated. Buffy stuffed her makeup back in her purse and hurried out of the bathroom. Although she hoped that it was nothing more than him being slightly upset at her for teasing him then walking off, knowing Spike he was probably in deep trouble in the five minutes she'd been gone.

As soon as she walked through the bathroom door, her eyes narrowed as she saw the elegant slut that was obviously putting the moves on her vampire. Buffy's senses left her with no doubt that the woman was a vampire so before returning to Spike, Buffy detoured toward napkins, sugar packs, and other coffee supplies left out on a table for the patrons convenience. Buffy found a wooden stirring stick and palmed it.

Then she headed straight for Spike and the slut who now had a hand on Spike's knee. There was a part of Buffy that was almost disappointed that Spike wasn't responding to the female vamp's advances. It would make life easier if she didn't live in a world where her fully souled father could cheat on her mother and leave, while an evil soulless vampire could be the paragon of faithfulness. But there could be no doubt that Spike wasn't at all interested in the vamp, and was starting to get angry that she wasn't leaving him alone.

"Hi there," Buffy said sweetly as she approached the undead couple. "I guess you've met Spike," she offered as she lifted the vamp's hand off of Spike's knee.

Buffy then sat in Spike's lap, draping her self over him. Her hand that held the coffee stirrer snaked around his neck, and she gently dragged the wooden tip over his skin so that he would know she was armed.

Spike looked at her, cocking an eyebrow as if daring her to try and stake the vampire with the glorified toothpick.

"Isn't she a pushy little blood doll?" the vampiress said looking at the scars on Buffy's neck and misunderstanding their relevance. "Or do you have longer term plans for this one?"

Spike growled and put a protective arm around her. Buffy could feel his entire body tense under her and she wondered why the woman's words had upset him so much. Sure slutty slutterella had drawn the wrong conclusion, but it was the most obvious one. Of all the vampires in the world, Spike had to be the least likely to have a Slayer sitting on his lap - considering he'd killed two.

The female vamp just laughed at Spike's reaction.

"Come on, Spike? Why not share? It'll be fun," she offered and put her hand on Buffy's knee.

Buffy's eyes went wide and she couldn't help but left forth an, "Eeew."

Sure her best friend was gay, but Buffy had a suspicion that what the very forward vampire wanted was less a menage a trois, and more like treating Buffy as a milkshake with two straws before she and Spike fucked. Besides, Buffy had never been big on sharing.

"Maria," Spike warned, but it was too late. Buffy had decided to act. She passed the wooden stick from her left to her right hand and jabbed it through Maria's chest. With perfect precision, she missed all of Maria's ribs, and managed to get enough of the now splintered wood into the vampire's heart. Maria exploded into a cloud of dust.

"Oh crap," Buffy said.

Spike looked at her questioningly.

"She dusted all over my coco and cake," Buffy pouted.

"I'll get you some more," Spike promised.

"That's okay," Buffy sighed. "Maybe we should go somewhere more private anyway."

He smiled at her as she got up. "Sounds good to me pet. I know just the place."

"Why am I not surprised?" Buffy said.

Then the absurdity of the question hit her. Only a week ago she would have been surprised. She would never have believed that Spike would know the right places to go, or to wear, or to say. Now she was perfectly comfortable with suave Spike.

Spike on the other hand wasn't comfortable. She could see where he was holding all his tension in his shoulders. Something was obviously bothering him. They got back into his car, but before she could ask him what was bothering him, he spoke.

"You know I'd never do it, right?"

"Do. . ?"

"Turn you."

"Oh." This was a conversation Buffy didn't really want to have.

"I mean it," Spike insisted. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Sure, I mean, I'm not sure I'd want to spend eternity with me either," she joked hoping to divert him from the subject.

"It's not that, I. . . I can't stand the thought of losing you." Suddenly he pulled the car over. He took Buffy's face in his hand and looked her straight in the eyes. "I love you."

"Oh."

It was a horrible response, Buffy knew. But she was caught completely off guard. Not ready for any of this, and not really sure which way the conversation was going. All she knew was that Spike had something on his mind, and wasn't going to be happy until he said it.

She bit the bullet. "So why wouldn't you turn me then?"

A look of confusion crossed Spike's face, as if he didn't know the answer either. Then he started to speak, slowly, hesitantly as if he was only figuring it all out as he spoke.

"I wanted to; thought about it. Before today. I've known for a while now how I felt about you. All the ways I wanted you. I wanted. . ." he laughed. "Fuck, I don't know how many times I imagined you on your knees, the way you were earlier. And in those fantasies, I had turned you, because I couldn't imagine you doing that any other way. I never thought you'd. . . It's like this; you're this amazing strong woman, and when you chose to suck my cock, it meant. . . it meant there must be something about me, you know? If I turned you, I could have anything from you I wanted, use you any way I like, but it would never be pure. I'd always wonder, always think you'd be doing it cause I was your Sire and you didn't have a real choice."

Buffy sat there thinking over his words for a minute. Trust Spike to be able to romance her and creep her out all at once. She didn't know how to respond to him, so she took advantage of the fact that they were now in a serious relationship talk.

"So what about the claiming? I researched it and. . . well I can't imagine why you'd want to claim me. I mean, I'm the Slayer. It's not like other vampires are going to lay off on me because you sank your fangs into me." He started to protest but she kept going. "That's not really the point, I know. The point is, I'm going to die. Probably soon. Probably painfully. I mean, I never expected to make it thought high school, and college? I go because I have to pretend. It would just be too awful to. . . I don't think I could go on if I didn't at least act like I had a future. But I don't. I know that. And if you claimed you, you'd share in all of that."

"Why do you think I want to claim you, you silly bint?" he teased her gently and ran his thumb over her cheek. "You think I don't know death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you?" he said sadly. "And part of you wants it. . . not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it."

Buffy tried to look away from him, hurt at his words, but he wouldn't let her.

"Death is your art," he insisted. "You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret." He closed his eyes for a minute, as if ashamed. "That's how I killed two Slayers. Every Slayer. . . has a death wish. Even you. The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world. . . your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here. That's why I want to claim you. To tie you down so you don't escape, least not anytime soon."

Tears were running down her face. She knew Spike well enough to know he believed every word he had just said, even if she couldn't accept them.

He wiped away her tears. "Every fella wants to protect his bird. It's some sodding cave man instinct I suppose. I may be handy to you in a fight, but I know you don't really need me to protect you with my fists and fangs. But this way I can. . . can protect your heart, if you'll let me."

Her only answer was to lean over and kiss him gently on the lips; feeling for the first time in her life what it meant to belong.





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