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Chapter 9

“It’s magical.”

“Knew you’d like it.”

“I do, Spike. Thanks for bringing me here.” Buffonia twirled slowly around. “Is this light on the stones reflected from the moons?”

“Yeah, means it’s a bit safer for me too. Chemical structure makes them absorb the moon-glow and when the conditions are right you get this sort of trans-functional particle exchange that…oh heck, don’t get me started on that. We’ll be here all night.”

Spike sat himself down beside her on the weathered stones of the old city and pulled her close. Her head dropped spontaneously onto his chest and for a while neither of them spoke. The inner turmoil was still there, but Spike thought he’d probably managed to mask it well. At his feet was his back-pack which he’d filled with Buffonia’s things and now all he had to do was make that decision. Only now they were here and the time had come, it wasn’t nearly so cut and dried.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised the best option would be to hand her over to the Jedi-Watcher. Weird guy, he undoubtedly was, but Watchers were supposed to look after their Slayers. Buffonia would have the whole of the Jedi order to keep her safe from the Vampirians and as long as Jasmine didn’t find out who she was she’d be as safe as she ever could be.

Of course, if he did that Buffonia would never speak to him again.

“Are you thinking about Jasmine?”

“Yeah.” He shifted her closer and she slid an arm around his back and grabbed a handful of his coat, almost as if she knew what he was thinking. Bloody hell, he’d known it was going to be hard, but this was tearing him in two. What the hell should he do? The right thing? Or the going out together in the poetic blaze of glory thing?

“We can beat her, Spike. I’m getting stronger every day, I can feel it. Told you, she’s not coming anywhere near you.”

Legendary lovers who’d face death rather than be parted. Standing proudly together against whatever hideous end Jasmine had in store for them. The poem was already half-formed in his mind. Buffonia would be magnificent, of course. He could already see her, chin tilted defiantly, her hand in his.

Spike’s mind backtracked a little. Lovers? Damn, now they wouldn’t even be that. He could hardly make love to her, then leave her, could he? How would that look? His com-link buzzed.

“Chewie?” The Wookie’s familiar growls sounded with the news he’d been waiting for. The Watcher was less than a sunrise away, dead on course for Aldis three. Spike listened with an uncomfortably sinking heart, ignoring Chewie’s concern, and made his decision.

“So,” Buffonia said running a fingernail down his chest. “D’you want to carry on from where we left off?”

“Huh?”

Buffonia hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down so she that her lips tickled his ear. “Make love to me,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Here. Now.”
To back up her words her hand travelled slowly down to the front of his jeans and began to stroke and squeeze him lightly. After a few moments she stopped. “Oh,” she said sitting up and looking at him with a frown. “You don’t want to make love to me?”

“Yeah, I want to make love to you.”

“Good,” she purred and reached for his pants once more. They both stared down at her hand, Buffonia in puzzlement and Spike with something akin to desperation. This was a hell of a time to suddenly be unable to perform, although it was probably for the best he thought, with a growing sense of resignation.

“You want to make love to me, but what?” Her hand moved to his face and carefully turned it towards her. “It’s not just Jasmine, is it?”

Not the eyes, please, not the eyes, he thought frantically. Those eyes would melt the ice-caps of Caragon if she looked at them like that. He closed his so he wouldn’t have to gaze into them, but Buffonia wasn’t about to give up on him. Her warm breath on his face told him how close her lips were and when she started to kiss him he found himself obeying her unspoken command and kissing her back.

And this time it was a command. She wasn’t asking, or pleading as she had been that first time at the Bronze. And she wasn’t merely following his lead either. This was Buffonia kissing him and telling him in no uncertain terms she wanted to be kissed back. Coaxing him on with small butterfly kisses at first, both hands holding his face now. Gradually deepening them until she had him clinging to her as if his very life depended on it, He’d always known she’d be someone who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. And he’d have given her anything, willingly, no question about that, only he wasn’t going to be there.

The pads of her thumbs rested lightly on his cheeks, rubbing small circles over the bones, and he kissed her goodbye with all the love he could pour into it. The moment where he suddenly took control startled her, but after only a moment’s hesitation she opened her mouth and let him in, as if she knew that this was the closest he could manage just now. It was awkward as well as frantic, because they were both trying to say different things and when they finally broke away from each other she kept on holding his face.

“You really are worried, aren’t you?” She said it as if she was only just seeing the truth of the matter. As if up to this point he’d been invincible and she was only just realising that he was as vulnerable as she was. Real fear clouded her features for the briefest of moments. Fear for herself, or for him he couldn’t tell. Probably a combination of both, he thought wiping a hand across his eyes and feeling ashamed that he couldn’t be superman for her after all.

“You don’t want to be around me right now, love. Jasmine wasn’t joking.”

“I’m not scared of her Spike.”

“Well, you bloody well should be. I am.” He couldn’t look at her because just then everything was on show and it made him feel pathetic.

“Then it’s a good job you met me.” Her lips touched his again, this time more for comfort than anything. They moved across his face in small, light steps, ending one on each downcast eyelid.

“You should go with your Watcher. He’ll keep you safer than I can.”

“No I shouldn’t. I want to go with you, Spike.”

There was an edge of panic in her voice now, and hell, this was cruel. Love her or leave her, he told himself. You can’t have it both ways. Can’t, maybe, but he wanted it. Desperately. Wanted to see her safe. Wanted to keep her close. Wanted her to still think fondly of him after he’d promised her the galaxy, then dumped her with the very person she was running away from.

“You really want me to go with him?”

Hell, there was only one way this was going to work. Somehow he managed to get the patented smirk onto his face. His hand lifted to caress her cheek. And somehow he managed a voice. “It’s been fun,” he said with a wink. “But you know how it is; all good things must come to an end.”

“I thought…” Her eyes did a quick scan of his face and he saw shock, quickly dissolve into disbelief. “No,” she said shaking her head. “I know what you’re doing, Spike, and it isn’t going to work.” Pointing to her chest she said, “you’re looking at the most stubborn person in the galaxy here. And you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“He’s not more than a sunrise away. You should be safe here, just stay put and he’ll know where to find you.” Spike was going to get up at that point, and stride manfully away, but she had hold of his coat again, and he couldn’t move. So he wriggled out of it and left her sitting there with the soft leather draped across herself where it had landed. “I can’t protect you. Buffonia. And you have no idea what Jasmine will do to you if she gets her hands on you.”

Buffonia hadn’t moved, neither did she give any indication that she’d heard him. Instead she stared at the coat, which she was still clutching in a death-grip, as if it held all the answers to her problems. Then he heard her mutter something and throw it down onto the stones beside her.

“I know about the reward, Spike. Is that what this is all about?” She stood and faced him, one hand on her hip, the other waving toward the entrance to the ruins. “So what? I’m supposed to sit here like a sacrificial lamb and wait for the storm-troopers to come get me? Is that how it goes? Can’t say I blame you. Cash is going to solve your problems a heck of a lot better than I can.”

He stared in shock at the printout she’d produced from her pocket and was now waving in his face. With a flourish she dropped it at his feet and folded her arms. “You had me going for a while there, Spike. But I’m learning fast, thanks for the lesson. I’ll be sure to remember it.”

His first reaction was one of confusion. That she should even entertain the thought of him turning her over to the Vampirians. After all they’d been through? But then again, why the hell shouldn’t she think he was selling her out? The damning evidence was lying between them and he had to admit, it didn’t look good.

It quickly gave way to anger and indignation and even though his best instincts were still telling him to walk away and stick to his original plan there was no way he could leave her like this. It was beyond him, he knew, but he did want it all. Wanted her to remember him. Wanted her to pine for him after he’d gone. Wanted her to realise he was doing this for her own good, and that alone. Because he sure as hell wasn’t doing what was best for him.

“Is that what you think?” He mirrored her stance, trying to look as stern as she did standing there with her fists clenched and her green eyes blazing. “You really believe I’d cash you in for that huge reward?”

Her only response was an arch of her eyebrows and a slight nod towards the paper at his feet. “Okay,” he admitted, palms forward, “doesn’t look good. But.” He took a step towards her, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I would never, ever sell you out to the Vampirians. No matter what they offered.”

There was relief in her eyes, even though she hardly moved a muscle in response. Vampire senses picked up the carefully exhaled breath and the slight hitch in her heartbeat. The way her muscles tensed, then let go. “Do you really think I would have?” he continued, because he never did know when to shut up. “All I want is for you to be safe.”

“You’re a Vampirian, Spike.”

“Yeah, but a poor excuse for one. Always have been.”

That got a bit of a smile. The corners of her mouth twitched momentarily before she mentally re-grouped.

“You won’t leave me.”

“I will if I have to.”

“Then you’ll always be left wondering.”

He frowned. “Wondering what?”

“Oh, you know,” she said breezily. “What it would have been like to make love to me.” She tilted her head and ran her finger along the exposed line of her neck. “What my blood tastes like.”

“Stop,” he growled lifting his hands and backing away. “I’m not going to stand and watch Jasmine rip you limb from limb just because I can’t control…” Bugger, the tingling in his gums signalled the start of a major vamp-out, and there she was humming to herself now while her finger continued to caress her neck and throat. The other hand was starting on the buttons of her shirt and his resolve was slipping fast, so he did the only thing he could do to save the situation. He turned on his heels and ran away.

----------------------------------

Damnation, she was supposed to be the most stubborn person in the galaxy, but heck, Spike was giving her a run for her money here. And a clean pair of heels. It had been a long walk out to the ruins, but at this rate he was going to be back at the Bug and away before she could catch him. Without thinking, her mantra was on her lips.

“May the Force be with me,” she said, as determinedly as she could. Using her gift to catch errant boyfriends possibly wasn’t what the Powers-that-be had in mind when they’d bestowed it on her and her Watcher would probably had a whole litter of Kitty-Kats if he saw her now. But the hell she was going to watch Spike just run away from her. One thing she had learned from her romantic novels was that true love was something worth fighting for, and running after, and holding on to. And how was she ever going to know if this was true love is she just stood here and watched him disappear from her life?

A club would have been handy right now, she thought, taking off after him. To knock some sense into that stubborn, platinum blond and obviously very intelligent, but at the same time, rather dumb head of his. A flash of the way his eyes had darkened when they’d been fooling around in the rec room made her falter momentarily before she steeled herself once more. No, not fooling around, it had definitely been more than that. And it could be more than that, if only he’d stop with all this noble crap.

There was a mild look of alarm on his face when he turned and saw how much she was gaining on him. And she was nothing short of amazed at the way her feet were flying over the ground. This force really was something else. When he ducked behind an outcrop of rocks she stood very still, and listened, turning her head this way and that until she picked up the tell-tale tingle on the back of her neck. He’d vamped out, she could tell that much, probably to help him run faster, but Slayers were designed to catch vampires. At one time it had been their reason for being and she could feel it now. The ancient legacy of her calling vibrating through every cell in her body. She knew exactly where he was, when he moved and even felt the accelerated heartbeat that betrayed his distress better than anything. Slowly she moved towards the rocks and flattened herself against them.

The big problem was, of course, that if she was super-aware of him, he was exactly the same with her. They were both hunting machines, designed to skilfully track down their prey and he could move as silently as a ghost when he wanted to. She hadn’t quite mastered that skill yet. The crunch of a twig beneath her feet made them both jump, so she held her breath and waited for him to make the next move. A terribly inappropriate urge to giggle mixed with a small thread of hysteria caught her off guard and she stopped for a moment to gather herself.

If she wasn’t mistaken, he was on the other side of the rock and they were circling in an endless loop right now. She reined in her hysteria and changed direction.

They both screamed when she ran smack-bang into his chest and before he could react she had by him fast by his shirt.

“Take me with you,” she said abandoning any attempts to be calm and rational about this, as he’d tried to be. Why couldn’t he see that the thought of going anywhere with crazy stalker guy was infinitely more frightening than any threats Jasmine made? Spike backed up, in human face again, startled eyes fixed on her hands where they were clutching his shirt and she pushed him against the rock and hung on.

“Buff,” he started.

The word was cut off by her mouth planted firmly over his. Using his shirt as leverage she pushed him further into the ruined wall and kissed him with all the ferocity she’d used back in the Bronze. By fair means or foul, he was taking her with him and she was going to use every trick in the book to make sure that happened. Unfortunately her book of tricks had a very short list in it. Fortunately though, this one seemed to be working just fine. Spike’s arms went up, first in a gesture of surrender as she continued to grind her lips against his, then finally, one snaked around her waist and pulled her in hard against him lifting her clear from the ground.

She realised that at some point he must have turned her around, but it didn’t matter that the rock was scraping at her back, because he was still kissing her and she never wanted him to stop. Together they lost their balance and tumbled onto a bed of sweet scented moss, the air leaving her lungs in a rush as he landed on top of her. She broke the kiss long enough to inhale a long shuddering breath, then once again found his now-desperate mouth.

The whole galaxy faded away under the onslaught of their passion until all that was left was him. His lips crushing hers. His body blocking out the moonlight. The welcome weight of him and the tangy taste of him. Before she’d been aware of the rush of water tumbling over the stones, of birdsong and of the breeze rustling the leaves on the trees, but now the only sounds were his low throaty growls and the soft sigh of her surrender.

-----------------------------------------

Okay, decision made. Not the one they should be making, but the hell with that. Doing the right thing was for boring, old people. True, that if they did this they were never going to get to grow old, but they’d never be boring either. Wasn’t a short life full of poetry, and this, better than a long monotone of an existence? Heck, he’d gladly die tomorrow if he could have just one day doing this with her.

Her hands were everywhere, giving him all the encouragement he needed. Not that he could have stopped himself now without great difficulty. This was like a dam bursting with a torrent of UST pounding over the breach. The fastenings of his shirt scattered as she ripped it open and without leaving her mouth he pulled it off and threw it down. His hands got to work on her pants, tangling with hers when she tried to help him. With a shockingly loud sound that split the air between them they tore open and hepushed them down her legs.

“Spike,” she gasped, and for a moment sanity returned and they both stopped and stared at each other. The moment frozen, the two of them hovering on the brink of the inevitable. If they did this now, there would be going back. This was it, forever.

Spike jerked his head, brought down his fangs, and waited.

Another small hesitation while her anxious eyes scanned his yellow ones, telling him how serious this was. Her gaze dropped to his fingers, which were slowly and methodically opening his pants, and back to his face. A very small hint of a smile hovered over her lips and, with a delicate arch of her neck and a shifting of her hips, she offered herself to him.

Spike was caught between weeping with relief and screaming with happiness, either of which would match the sweet irony of the moment. He did neither because somewhere from deep inside him instinct was taking over. Yes, he’d read about claiming rituals on the cult websites, but it hadn’t meant anything until now. Now it was all falling into place with startling clarity, chasing away any lingering threads of doubt and he felt himself slip easily into autopilot.

A Vampirian and a Slayer? This had to be a first. Probably went against every cosmic law there was. But it couldn’t be wrong when she felt so wonderfully right lying beneath him, could it?

The fangs ached in a way they never had before, almost as if her blood was calling to him and even if she said no he knew he still was going to bite her and make her his. This was out of both of their hands now.

“Say you’ll be mine,” he whispered urgently. Say it.”

“I will Spike,” she replied, just as urgently, all the while pushing up against his hard length in an attempt to get him insider her.

“No,” he said, stilling her with all the strength of will he could muster, “you have to say the words. Say, I’ll be yours.”

“You’ll be mine, Spike, you’ll be mine.”

“No,” he growled in frustration. “Say, I’ll be yours. The actual words.”

“Oh, sorry.” Buffonia’s eyes widened in apology. Then will you make love to me?”

“Gonna make love to you till you can’t see straight. Say it.”

“I’m yours, Spike, all yours.”

The moment she started speaking he sank his hard length into her and promptly exploded with his release. How he’d managed to hold off this long without coming in his pants, he had no idea, but then a lot of things had surprised him in the last few days. Buffonia gave a sharp cry and he was vaguely aware of her screwing up her eyes as she rode out the pain and adjusted to him.

“Say it again,” he commanded her, lisping the words through his fully extended fangs. Making love fully vamped out was something he’d never done before and it was hard to control the impulse to sink his fangs into her flesh and slake a thirst such as he’d never known before while emptying himself inside her. Instead he let himself be guided by her hand, which was hooked around his own neck and looked deep into her trusting eyes. Trust she placed in him not to suck her dry as his ancestors might have.

“Buffonia?” This was her last chance to back out. The look in her eyes had calmed the blood-lust a little and returned him some control. Now if she said no he’d just have to die of disappointment, but she’d be safe from him. She’d always be safe with him.

“I’m going to, going to…”

“I know,” she whispered against his cheek. “Should I say the words when you do it?”

Just hearing her acceptance made him hard again. He thrust gently and felt her shudder around him. “Yes, please, I want you to.”

“Okay.” With a little nod she pulled him down, but again he lifted his head, unable to do this until he was sure.

“You want this too?”

“I’ll. Be. Yours.” She punctuated each one of his thrusts with a word and he wasted no more time. Even though he was as gentle as he could be, given that he was biting her, she jerked sharply and seemed to be both fighting him off and pulling him to her at the same time when he pierced her skin with his teeth. But still she kept saying the words, and they went straight to his head and made him dizzy with delight? Ecstasy? He didn’t have a word for how he was feeling just then.

She was fighting for breath because he was holding her too hard, his arms locked tight about her, but he couldn’t have let go if he’d wanted to and each mouthful of blood he took was accompanied by a groan as his thrusts fell in time with his mouth.

His. The word rolled over and over in his mind along with primitive, dark thoughts of possession and surrender. And a strange, wonderful and totally unexpected sensation of freedom and knowing. As if he’d found something he’d been searching for all his life, and, although he’d bound himself to her, he felt more free than he’d ever done.

Everything was new. Fresh, warm blood straight from the source, covering his lips and coursing through his own veins was something he’d never experienced before. Her wide, startled eyes told him what a sight he must look when he let go, and it made him wipe it away with the back of his hand, self conscious for a moment at the way he’d so blatantly revelled in it.

“Your turn now,” he mumbled, remembering that she would have to drink from him too, because this was a bonding, not an enslavement.

“I don’t think I can…” She shook her head, obviously horrified at the thought of having to bite him.

“Oh.” Disappointment brought him crashing back to earth after the great emotional flight he’d just been on. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t? He found himself reaching for her in panic. If she didn’t then this wasn’t going to work. He wanted to be her equal, not her master.

“It’s alright,” she said wriggling her head free. Her hand stilled his. “I want to. I just don’t think I can bite you. Is there another way?”

“I don’t know, it has to be my blood. What if I?” Raising his arm he rested his fangs against the inside of his arm. Maybe the biting part was optional? Without a second thought he bit down hard and thrust his bleeding wrist against her mouth. The feel her lips latching onto his slick flesh propelled him straight into another orgasm. He’d almost forgotten they were making love, and he’d completely forgotten that only a few moments ago she’d still been a virgin. With another roar he emptied himself inside her, almost losing his balance as he propped himself up on one elbow while she continued to suck diligently on his wrist.

“I’ll be yours, Buffonia. Always.” Someone said the words. It sounded like him, but they seemed to be coming from somewhere far away. They repeated over and over as if the person saying them wanted it left in no doubt that he meant every one of them. Spike felt his human face slip back and he realised it was him talking after all. His voice trailed away when she let go of him and dropped her head back into their mossy bed, her expression a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion. Her mouth smeared with his blood, her neck stained with her own.

A breathtaking beautiful vampire’s dream. That’s what she looked like. His arm trembled until it did give way and she caught his full weight and held him while he struggled to come back from the crazy journey he seemed to have made in no more than a blink of an eye.

“Are you okay, Spike?”

It was way too comfortable lying there in her arms, feeling her fingers stroking through his hair. A nice place to spend eternity, he thought. “Yeah, more than okay,” he whispered rolling onto his side and shifting her against him. “You?”

“I think so. It was, it was…”

“Intense?”

“Overwhelming.”

“I know. Guess this means we’re kind of stuck with each other now?”

“Guess it does.”

“Can’t believe I just did this.” His fingers grazed the still-bleeding puncture marks on her neck making her suck in a quick breath. “Did I hurt you?”

“Little bit. Don’t think I could get used to the taste of blood though.” She raised her head, her eyes anxious. “I won’t have to do it again, will I?”

“No, no, it’s alright. Once it’s done, it’s done.”

She let her head drop to his chest and for a moment they lay quietly contemplating the aftermath of this huge commitment.

Once it was done, it was done. He hoped so, because he was never letting her go. With a deep sniff he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck and felt her warm breath in his hair as she giggled. Buffonia, blood, and sex. Perfume to die for. The thought sobered him, making him glance at the chronometer on his wrist and realise that they didn’t have time to linger here feeling satisfied and relaxed. The Watcher was hot on their heels, and he was the very least of their problems.

“Buff, don’t go to sleep,” he said. “We need to go.”

“Do we have to?” She moved closer, fitting herself against him. “Want to stay here.”

“Me too pet. But we can’t.”

“But we have time to make love again? Yes? Say we do.”

Something stirred down below at her invitation. Hell, he only had to look at her and something was stirring down below. She flopped like a rag doll when he rolled her onto her back, hands beside her head, eyes a little glassy now, making him think he might have taken too much blood. “Yes,” he said tracing the line of her cheek with his fingertips. “We’ll always have time to make love. Think I was a bit selfish just now, but you drive me so crazy. Let me make it up to you, nice and slow. Then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

-------------------------------------------

Nice and slow sounded good. “Mmmm,” she murmured, too tired even to form a coherent sentence. As long as it didn’t involve her having to move, or think or anything right now, she was happy. He was still inside her, still hard and her foggy brain clocked up another advantage of having a Vampirian lover. Or whatever he was to her now. After what they’d just done, lover couldn’t begin to cover it.

He gave a rich, dark chuckle at her languid tone. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, his face hovering above hers, “are you still in there?”

Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t. Her body was still here, although it seemed to have taken on the consistency of soft jelly and when she tried to move none of her limbs seemed to want to obey her. The dull metal taste of his blood was still in her mouth, his urgent, lust-filled words of want and need and desire still echoed in her ears. The sweet smell of crushed flowers and moss engulfed her, and beneath her hands his beautifully smooth skin rippled and flowed. Her vision was a little blurry, but she could still see him, head tilted, watching her with an indulgent, goofy smile on his face.

“Yeah,” she managed. “Still here. It’s just…I thought…I’m…” It was no good, her body was still there, but her will was well and truly deserting her, making it impossible to think of anything but how gorgeously sinful he looked braced over her all bare-chested and hard-muscled. Suddenly a vision of him spread out for her pleasure on a heart-shaped bed popped into her mind and she giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” From somewhere she found the energy to move her hips and a long sigh escaped her when he responded with a deep thrust of his own. “What did you do to me?” she asked. I feel as if I’m floating. Am I, Spike?”

“Nope, not floating,” he said very close to her ear. “And don’t ask me what we’ve done, because I don’t know yet. How do you feel?”

“Same as before, but with less bones. You?”

“Like I could take on the galaxy single-handed. What about this?”

She made a small sound of loss when he pulled out of her, and sighed with contentment when he sank down again with a careful measured thrust.

“You like this?”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“And this?” The kiss was slow and deep and she formed the answer in her mind because her mouth was too busy learning everything he was teaching her. This new language that didn’t need words. It just needed the right two people flowing over and around each other. Into each other and through each other, like moonbeams through glass.

His love-making was just like him. Courageous and daring, confident and demanding, and now, quietly poetic. And when he made her come her cheeks were wet with tears she didn’t know she’d shed. Spike licked them carefully away and did the same for the drying blood on her neck. With a sigh he moved off her and pulled her up with him.

The moon-glow only added to the strangeness of the moment. Neither of them seemed to know how to cope with the aftermath of what they’d just done. Spike searched for his shirt and slipped it on and Buffonia noted with relief that exposure to the planet’s strange light didn’t seem to have harmed him. Her pants were beyond repair so she pulled them up and held them in place while Spike finger combed his hair back into place.

“Need to find our stuff,” he said looking around to get his bearings. “Come on.”

She took his offered hand and together they made their way back to the clearing, neither of them speaking. When he found his discarded coat he slipped it over her shoulders, smoothed it into place and buttoned it through. He did it slowly and methodically, fussing over the collar and turning back the cuffs for her until he was satisfied.

She guessed it was his way of anchoring himself back down after the tumultuous ride they’d been on so she stood still and let him fuss over her. The wild passion seemed to have drained them both and much as she wanted to talk about what they’d done, and more importantly, what it would mean to them, this quiet acceptance seemed to say it more eloquently than words ever could. When he held out his hand, she took it. When he kissed her, she kissed him back, and when he swung her up into his arms and started back towards the landing bay she laid her head against his shoulder and let him take her.

Whether it was part of the bonding process, she didn’t know. All she knew was that speeches and long explanations didn’t seem necessary any more and suddenly life seemed terribly simple. There was her, and there was Spike. He would look out for her, and she would look out for him. They’d live together, and quite possibly die together. But she’d never be alone again.

Chewie’s first reaction to her being carried back, hair all askew and wearing Spike’s coat, was a concerned growl. Spike barked out an order and Chewie narrowed his eyes briefly before spinning on his heels to prepare for take-off. Then she was in Spike’s cabin sitting on the edge of his bunk and he was leaving her, walking the few strides across the small room to the computer console. Immediately she hopped off and followed him.

“Get some rest,” he said nodding to the bunk. “Got to organise this Blue Ortega drop or we’ll have the Klum Fei after us too. I’ll be just here.”

“But you’re too far away.”

He didn’t seem too surprised at her statement. Instead he pushed out the chair, sat down and patted his lap. “Okay, come here then,” he said pulling her down. She wriggled her self comfortable and lazily watched his clever fingers fly over the keyboard. Numbers and words she didn’t understand flashed across the screen. When he finished he hit enter with a flourish and turned to her.

“Sorry Buff, if this shipment’s late, we’re dead.”

“More dead than if Jasmine gets us?”

Spike touched a finger to his lips, making a show of thinking about it and smiled. “Too close to call,” he said looping his arms loosely around her neck. “I want to make love to you again.”

“But I’m guessing this is more important?” Buffonia nodded towards the read-out.

“Heck, I’m so sorry, this isn’t how I wanted it to be.” Spike tipped his head forward, leaning his cheek against hers. “You should be lying all sleepy and satisfied on silk sheets, with me drinking champagne out of your shoe, after what we just did.”

“On a heart-shaped bed?”

“A vibrating one at the very least.”

“And I could peel you blue grapes and feed them to you.”

“And we could take a deep, bubble-bath together. Wash each other all over with big, soapy sponges.”

“And we could make love in the bath?” Buffonia didn’t need her romantic novels to reference that one. Pictures were flowing into her mind spontaneously.

“Oh yes.” Spike’s arms tightened around her, pulling her astride him. “I want to make love to you everywhere.”

“She’d read about bedroom voices and Spike was doing it now. With each desire-laden word his voice dropped another notch until it was no more than a low growl. Hers however, came out as a high pitched squeak “Everywhere?”

“Yes, everywhere.”

“Tell me,” she said getting her voice under control. “Need details.”

“Well, there’s the bath-tub, but we already covered that. The bed, of course. The floor. Up against the wall. In the back of a Speeder. Outside.”

Buffonia nodded, enraptured by the sound of his voice and the pictures he was conjuring. “We’ve already covered that one too,” she said with a smile.

“We sure did.” He sobered for a moment. Pushed back her hair while he searched her face. “Buff, if there’s anything I did…”

“Spike, I loved what we did.”

“I love you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. Heck, Buff, I’ve messed this up. Should have said that first.”

“No, you haven’t. It was perfect.”

“I was like some horrible monster, Buff. I hurt you.”

“Spike, I’m a Slayer. We don’t break that easily.” Leaning forward she playfully nibbled the end of his nose. “And who says I don’t like a bit of monster in my man?”

“Am I?”

“Are you what?”

His hands fell to her ribs, digging in and holding on. “Quit teasing,” he said squeezing ever so slightly. “Tell me I’m your man.”

“You’re my man,” she said her voice rising to a shriek. “Don’t, I’m ticklish.”

“And?”

She knew what he wanted to hear. Words that would give form to something she hadn’t really worked out yet. She’d bonded herself to him without giving any serious thought to whether she loved him, or not. After all, she’d only known him a few days.

It was the look in his eyes as he waited for her to put him out of his misery that told her exactly how she felt about him. Something about the way her insides melted when he tilted his head just so. The way his fingers flexed convulsively, no longer with any thought of tickling her. The way she saw her own feelings reflected in his eyes.

Whether love crept up quietly or descended from the heavens in a thunderbolt there was always that one moment of revelation. And this was it. Spike was a rogue, undoubtedly. Someone who thumbed his nose at authority and used his charm and strength to get what he wanted from life. But he was her rogue, that much she knew. Hadn’t she gone for him all guns blazing? Even after he’d made it more than clear that it would probably be the death of her.

The com-link buzzed, Chewie’s growls indicated imminent take-off, then the Millennium Bug executed its familiar pivot and tilt as it slowly lifted from the docking bay. Spike’s hands closed around her back and Buffonia gripped his lap tightly with her knees to steady herself. Popping the remaining fastening of his shirt, she slid it down over his shoulders and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on each one.

“I think,” she said working a line of kisses along his delicate collarbone. “That I could very easily fall in love with you, Spike.”

“Going to make sure you do.” The Bug tilted sharply and she slid further into his lap. One of his arms was still around her, the other already opening his pants. “Gonna make you into my love slave,” he warned with a growl.

She giggled at that and he arched an eyebrow. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No, master,” she said holding back the second giggle that was threatening to escape.

“Good,” he said lifting her and shifting her onto him. “Because if you were, you’d have to be punished.”

“Oh.” It was part response to the feel of him inside her, enhanced by the G-force effect of the speeding spacecraft, and part picture of something very wicked that had just popped into her mind. “Punished?” she gasped.

“Yes, punished,” he said his voice sounding breathless, even though breathing wasn’t really an issue for him when he was doing this.

“How?” she said experimentally clenching her inner muscles and watching in amazement as his eyes nearly rolled out of his head.

“Gonna tie you naked to the bed, cover you in honey blossom and lick it all off, every drop.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Lover be Mine?”

“Yeah, nicked it from your bag the other night.” Leaning towards her, his voice low, he said. “I especially enjoyed pages fifty-nine, seventy-four and one hundred and thirty two.”

Buffonia swallowed. She didn’t have to remember the page numbers to know what he was talking about. It was her favourite book, after all. And Spike, sitting there in all his bare-chested glory looked, to her love-dazed eyes the very epitome of the perfect cover model. In fact, at this moment he was her every fantasy come true. Who wouldn’t love this, and want to hang on to it with both hands?

“Let go, sweetheart.” His thrusts were becoming frantic now. “Not going to last, come with me. Want to see you come.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” They always seemed to say that in her novels, and now she knew why. His hand had slipped between them to help her on her way and she had no option but to go with him and fulfil yet another long-cherished fantasy. It was good to know that these things could actually happen, and they weren’t just the preserve of purple-prose romantica.

“No, don’t close your eyes,” he demanded. “Look at me.”

So she did, trusting him to catch her when she spiralled out of control, then fell back to earth vowing that she was never going to touch her orgasminator again. He continued to spend inside her while she lay with her head on his shoulder, every nerve ending still tingling, her head full of pictures. Every one of him.

“Spike,” she said, when he’d stopped moving. “Page two hundred and sixty seven.”

Two hundred and…? Spike mouthed the words silently, frowning slightly until a slow evil grin spread across his mouth. The coat slipped from her shoulders, quickly followed by her shirt. She undid her bra herself, sliding from his lap while he threw off his own clothes. A small flash of embarrassment ran through her as she stood naked before him for the first time, then he was tugging her towards the shower, shaking his head and telling her she was never to hide from him.

She’d always wondered where heaven was. And now she knew. It was in the safe, strong arms of her vampire lover. And it was a wonderful place to be.

--------------------------------------------

The great disturbance in the force that nearly floored O B had only a little to do with the green-lychee curry he’d eaten for dinner the night before. Rubbing at his stomach he reminded himself to go easy on the spicy food, it never did agree with him, and instead he applied himself to the startling revelation that had come to him half-way through his shower.

He’d been so sure Buffonia would be waiting for him on Aldis three. Hadn’t he given her all the evidence she needed to ditch that liability of a space pirate? Something had gone terribly wrong and if it was what he thought it was then they were going to have to re-write history. A Vampirian and a Slayer? It was unprecedented.

O B clutched at his stomach and waved away the hovering C I. “It’s alright,” he told the anxious droid. “Just a touch of indigestion.” C I nodded in sympathy and O B made his way to the bathroom, shut the door behind him and let out a deep breath. “It wasn’t alright, at all, and he had no idea how he was going to correct this. Spike’s claim had completely blocked out the Watcher, Slayer bond and right now Buffonia was out of his reach.

O B sat down with a grateful sigh and thanked the Force that the Bug was now heading back in the general direction of Vampiria. Probably to drop the Blue Ortega. That alone showed how desperate their situation was and was the one thing that gave him hope of salvaging this disaster.

“Master, Master.”

“Not now, C I.” O B groaned again. At the very least this Fiasco with Buffonia was going to result in an ulcer. “Go away,” he said. “Can’t I enjoy a bathroom break in peace?”

“It’s urgent, master.”

“It can wait.”

“No master, it can’t. Look out of your window.”

O B glanced irritably out of the window, and what he saw made his heart slither right down into his sandals. “Get us out of here,” he shouted standing up abruptly. He looked again, wondering why he hadn’t felt this one coming, and cursed the day Buffonia had ever laid eyes on Spike. Nothing had been right since then.

“They’ve got us fast master. Long range tractor beam.”

The vast, dark shape of the Imperial Vampirian Star Cruiser slid by with malevolent grace. Dwarfing the tiny Jedi Master 111 and O B hastily made his way back to the cockpit.

Think, think. Buffonia wasn’t listening telepathically any more because her head was full of Spike, but why use the force when technology would do just as well? “General distress signal,” he barked at C I who was standing beside him wringing his hands. O B sat down in the pilot’s seat, steepled his fingers and closed his eyes. When life threw lemon flowers at you, what did you do? He opened his eyes and grinned. You made lemonade, of course. With a quick prayer of thanks to the Force, he turned to C I.

“Amend that order.”

“You don’t want to send a distress signal? But master…” the droid began.

“Oh, we’re sending that signal,” O B told him. “Specific frequency only.”

C I cocked his head. “Co ordinates?” he asked, puzzled.

“Five seven eight zero zero nine seven – factor three.”

C I repeated them to R U who beeped and programmed them in.

“Code word?”

“Now, what would he choose?” O B glanced again at the advancing Star-ship and thought hard. “Try Sex Pistols.”

R U beeped twice.

“Password rejected, master.”

“Damn, what about, Clash?”

Again, two beeps.

“Rejected.”

O B covered his eyes with his hands. “Neither of them?”

C I shook his head. “Not with these co ordinates, master. Who are we trying to reach?”

“Ahh, I have it.” O B snapped opened his eyes. “Try Hair Gel for me.”

R U beeped once.

“Why, it’s the Millennium Bug, master.” C I looked up, switching on his impressed expression.

“Are they picking up?”

“They’ve locked on, master.”

“Then let them know we’re in trouble.”

“But Buffonia won’t come master. Why should she come now when she never did before?”

“Because she helps the helpless, C I. It’s what she does. And we are, at this moment, nothing if not helpless.” This time when he looked out of the window it was with considerable satisfaction at this intervention of fate. What better way to get himself and Buffonia into the inner sanctum than to let the Vampirians take them there themselves?

“Shall we work on disabling the tractor beam, master?”

“No, C I, let them take us.”

“Take us, master? But won’t Darth Angel know who you are?”

O B took off his glasses and inspected the lenses. “Yes, he said, I can imagine that’s why they’ve picked us up.”

“But?”

Rising from the seat he turned for the door. “Trust me on this, it’s the best thing that could possibly have happened. Just let me know when the cavalry turns up.”

“The Cavalry?” C I hurried after him. “But I thought…?”

“The Bug, C I. The Millenium Bug.”

Tbc …





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