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DANCE OF THE MATES


Chapter 16: ‘Reflections of Their Golden Eyes’


A/N: This chapter is going to be a ‘little weird’ in structure. It will start as a series of reflections by our two main characters; Spike and Buffy. Where it goes from there? Well, please just read it and find out…thanks.


Spike sat in Oz’s apartment, still. It was nearly sundown and he felt the driving urge to escape this daylight prison and head straight for the Watcher’s house. His mate, his Buffy was there. Until the sunset, however, Spike was stuck in this bizarre place, along with Peaches and his band of merry men.

Until the sunset, Spike was left to reflect on his past in Sunnydale and with his Slayer. It, the Spuffy history, had not started all too smoothly.

‘He had come to Sunnydale to kill his third Slayer. Defile and defeat the Chosen One and return his own sire, Drusilla, to her full power. That had been the plan, all right. But, along the way? The plan had taken a quick turn to the left and everything went haywire. This was nothing new to Spike, exactly, as most of his plans seemed to veer off from the right direction.’

“The Slayer,” some non-descript demon with a hard on for revenge had began, “she’s young, blond, hot and oh, yeah, very hot.” The demon had described the Slayer to Spike, from the moment he’d entered Sunnyhell and sought her out. Spike didn’t even know the bint’s real name, just a generic description of her, nothing more.

He headed towards the Bronze, the in place for every teen in this podunk town. When he arrived, Spike sought out the blond, hot and young girl he’d been told to look for. Problem was, there was a lot of young, hot blond girls in the Bronze that night.

But…there ‘was’ one, Spike remembered, one that stood out. She was definitely hot, no question, young and blond to boot. It was the ‘power’ though, that radiated from this beauty that told Spike that this was indeed the Slayer of Slayers. Not like anyone of the Chosen Ones that he had encountered before.

The ‘Beauty’ as Spike immediately named her, was dancing with a dorky, rather clumsy young brunette boy and a red haired girl. There was a lot of dancers in the Bronze that night, but this girl stood out, ‘the’ blond one that is. His Slayer had emerald green eyes, yes, but the flecks in their center? They were golden.

“There’s someone being bitten, out in the alley,” Spike had shouted out as he grabbed a cell phone from another patron. Presumeably to call 911. “Some big ugly guy, he’s biting some little bloke and…”

Spike was rewarded, wickedly, when the blond beauty fled the dance floor and headed out back. To the alley way.

Of course, Spike had followed, watched this Buffy the Slayer kick his set up minion’s arse and dust him in less then thirty seconds. For some reason, even then? Spike felt a sense of pride at the little Slayer as she dusted her hands of the idiot vampire’s remains.

He, Spike, stepped out of the shadows and began to clap his hands together in applause.

“Who are you?” Buffy had asked, innocently, her green eyes stirring something deep inside of Spike, even then.

“You’ll find out on Saturday,” he’d smugly replied.

“What happens Saturday?” Buffy asked quickly.

“I kill you,” Spike had snarkily answered, then fled into the night. Back to his Dark Princess, Drusilla. Once back, in the safety of the factory? Spike was cursed with horrid dreams of making love to the blond, beauty of a girl he’d watched kill off a loyal minion. Even then? He knew, Spike knew he was going to be damned to ‘something’ by Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Even then, that first night after seeing Buffy? Spike had been enraptured of her. Smitten on first gaze with this blond, tiny dynamo of a demon killer. A killer of his own kind.


“Spike?” Angel broke into the blond vampire’s memories, “it’s time.”

Spike bolted up and looked outside of the apartment. Indeed, the sun had sunk into the horizon of the Pacific Ocean and it was time to head over to Gile’s place.

“I want her back,” Spike whispered, almost reverently. “I want my mate back,” he repeated, his voice a growl now.

“You’ll have her back,” Angel assured his grandchilder. “We’ll all see to it.”

Wesley, who had been fairly quiet until then, stood up and stretched his arms above his head. “I have got to call ‘my’ mate,” he announced. “Cordelia is my wife,” the ex-watcher explained to Spike evenly, “we’re having a child. In three months. I promised I would check in with her.” (You know who I threw that in there for! Hope you’re still reading!*)

The dark haired human went off to another room to call his wife on the cell phone while Gunn and Lindsey stood up to stretch their own bodies. They, the two men looked at Angel for some kind of orders.

“I want you guys to wait until tomorrow,” Angel nodded at the two men. “You two and Wesley. Old Wes can go to Giles’ house, in the morning, first thing and try to talk some sense into him. Spike and I, we’ll go tonight and flash fangs and fists around. Oh, and our golden demon eyes, make the little Scoobies shake in their boots.”

Angel grinned at Spike, warmly, and the blond vampire had to smirk back at his grandsire.

“Like the old days, eh Will?” Angel chuckled giddily.

“Somewhat,” Spike responded quietly. “Just a different dance card?” he added with another smirk.

“A better dance card,” Angel replied with another nod of his dark head.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Spike hissed as he headed out of Oz’s front door, Angel in tow.

“So we stay here?” Gunn called behind the two vampires. “Just hang out until morning? Until one of the losers comes out to play?”

“That would be the plan Charles,” Angel called back as he followed his sauntering grandchilder out into the night.


Buffy lay, still trussed up like a Christmas goose, in the the guest bed of Rupert Giles. She felt like a fool, really, by now. She had slept, yes, briefly, after the last ‘vulcan mind meld’ with her mate, Spike. That had been just before sunrise that morning, and her sleep had truly been brief and now she was in full on Slayer mode. Problem was? She was still hog tied through the magic mojo that her supposedly best friend, Willow, had placed on her.

‘When I get out of here,’ Buffy began the mantra in her head, again, ‘I am so going to kick everyone’s asses!’

The Slayer glanced about the guest room and saw that Willow was now in the vicinity of her. Her best female friend was sound asleep, for whatever reason, and snoring loudly.

‘I should cry like a banshee,’ Buffy surmised, ‘scream my head off and wake the whole lot of them up!’ They deserved it, they truly did. To keep their so called friend, bestest friend actually and the Slayer to boot, tied up and held hostage. From her own mate? Ridiculous!

Buffy began to think back, as she lay there, waiting for the ultimate return of her mate, Spike. She thought of many things, but especially of the first time she had laid eyes on William the Bloody, aka Spike.

‘Buffy was dancing at the Bronze, with Willow and Xander. She was disturbed, greatly, by her French grade and the fact that Angel, her supposed boyfriend, hadn’t been around in a while.

While she shimmied about the place, to a song she rarely heard, and probably wouldn’t hear again in a decade, Buffy caught sight of a gorgeous blond, Billy Idol wannabe, standing in the shadows of the dance floor. Her heart began to race, like a thoroughbred, at the realization that this ‘man’ was watching her, intently. This ‘man’ had the bluest of blue eyes, but their center flecks? They were golden.

‘Angel who?’ Buffy had thought, briefly, as she began to dance more erotically then before. She ran her hands through her golden tresses and let them fall down her shoulders and back.

‘Fuck French,’ Buffy giggled to herself, ‘from now on? It’s the old California motto for me; I drink Californian and kiss French!’

That was when everything came tumbling down about Buffy. Right then. There was a ‘cry for help’ from this blond, about some guy in the alley and a biter?

Buffy had rushed out, to do her duty, found the vampire and victim, then saved the day. As usual.

That’s when she, Buffy had realized the harsh truth. This blond haired Adonis was in fact a vampire himself. He would prove to be her most formidable one, to date.

‘Spike’s Reflections’


He, Spike, had come to Sunnydale, a few years before to bag his third Slayer. Instead? He had fallen in love with her, Buffy, the greatest Slayer of them all. Her green eyes were beacons to him as was her golden, sunlit light. Buffy wasn’t just a Slayer, a trophy for Spike, she was his salvation. Everyone, including him, had realized it.


‘Buffy’s Reflections’

He, Spike or aka William the Bloody, had come to Sunnydale to bag his third Slayer. Instead? The Master Vampire had fallen in love with her…her, Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer.

The moment she met Spike’s blue-eyed gaze, Buffy was doomed. Heavenly doomed that is to be with this Master Vampire, this undead angel.

‘Angel, Angel was Buffy’s soulmate, wasn’t he?’

It was that moment, when Buffy and Spike’s eyes met, in that alley, no matter what was said at the time. In that brief nano minute of time, the two warriors realized that they were destined for each other. There would be no staking of Spike by Buffy. No draining, killing or turning of Buffy by Spike.

It came down to this…the Chosen One, the ‘light’ of this World belonged to Spike. Spike belonged to Buffy, the Slayer of his kind. There was no turning back, there never could be. It was written in stone, somewhere, no doubt, that the two blond super beings belonged together and always would.



‘Present Day/Night’


Spike stalked up to the barrier that surrounded Rupert Giles’ house. He dropped to his knees in front of the porch and roared like a lion: “BUFFY!” His tone was desperate. The vampire would surely die, soon, without his beloved mate by his side.


Inside of Giles’ guest room, Buffy bolted up, as much as she could, from the bed and cried out: “SPIKE!” Her tone was just as desperate as her mates. The Slayer would surely die, soon, without her beloved mate.

Willow leapt up from her chair and began to wring her hands together in worry. Buffy smiled, benevolently at her red haired friend.

“Worried Wills?” Buffy asked quietly, a small smile on her face.

“Yes,” Willow answered honestly as she glanced out the bedroom window, down at the front lawn.

“Oh gosh!” Willow gasped in terror. “It’s Angel, Buff,” the witch turned and stared at her Slayer friend. “He’s out there, with Spike.”


“No shit,” Buffy chuckled, relaxing back down onto the bed. “Guess the this is one of those ‘family reunion’ Kodak moments huh Wills?”

Xander Harris came stumbling into the guest room, his face pale and his brown eyes wide with fear. “It’s Angel/Angelus,” Xander mumbled nervously. “He’s here. With Spike!”


A/N: I’ve kind of come to a real cross roads/fork in the road here. I want to go on, but I’m a little unsure just how to? Please read and review this chapter. If you can, give some input and let me know what ‘you all’ think should happen? (okay, I do have ideas but I just want a little input, kay?) Thanks, love, Spuf





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