Ashes of Dreams

Chapter One

The last thing Buffy remembered before the darkness enveloped her was the sharp sting of Angelus’ fangs in her throat.

****

As Buffy swam towards consciousness, she became aware of two things.  First, she wasn’t dead.  Second, she was hungry.  But it wasn’t the normal rumbly-tumbly sort of hunger that she was used to.  This was an all consuming, gnawing at your insides til you couldn’t think straight sort of hunger.  Growling softly, Buffy opened her eyes, searching.

“Bout bloody time you woke up.” A deep, angry, British voice said from across the room.  Buffy sat up with a start.

“Spike? Where the hell am I?” she demanded, reaching for the stake that should have been tucked in the waistband of her jeans.

“The mansion.  And don’t bother.  You don’t have any.”  He said, bringing his wheelchair closer to the bed.  She glared at him through yellow eyes.  “Hungry, Pet?” Spike held up a wine glass filled to the brim with blood.

Buffy’s mind screamed “Eeeww” even as her hand reached out to take it.  Tilting it back greedily, she drained the glass, realization settling over her.

“What have you done to me?” her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes never leaving the glass in her hand.

“Me?!” he started, his voice incredulous.  “Don’t blame this on me, little girl.  If it were up to me, you’d be dead.  But since I’m not in the position to be giving orders, thanks to you, I just get to be your bloody babysitter.” Spike snarled, his blue eyes flashing.

“Why?” she snapped back.

“Why?  Well,  I obviously can’t go out and hunt, now can I, you stupid bint? And since it’s your fault I’m in this fuckin’ chair, Angel thought it would be great for a chuckle to saddle me with you. Ha, bloody, ha.”  Spike turned away from her and wheeled himself to the window so he could stare longingly out into the night.  His hands clenched the arms of his chair, bending the metal.  Anger coursed through him, nearly choking him with its intensity.  Anger at Angel for mucking up his life.  Anger at Dru, for turning to his sire when Spike needed her the most.  And most of all, anger at the little chit of a girl behind him for putting him in this chair AND making Angel lose his soul.

Buffy sat on king sized bed, ignoring the seething blonde by the window. *I’m a vampire* she thought, her mind not wanting to accept what was obviously the truth.  A shaking hand rose to press against her now silent chest, then up to touch the ridges of her forehead.  Tears fell from her eyes as she thought of her mother, her watcher, and her friends.  She’d failed them all.  She’d become the thing she had been chosen to kill.

“Oh, God.” Buffy sobbed, covering her mouth with her hands, the empty glass rolling to the floor.  Anguish and fear gripped her, making her body tremble and her unneeded breath come in great gasping gulps.

“He can’t help you now.” Spike told her, turning back around.  As soon as he’d heard her tears, he’d pushed his anger back and started to think.  He knew they were in trouble now.  Since she had woken up, Spike could tell she was different.  She shouldn’t have cared that she had been turned.  One of the good things about being turned, was that pesky emotions, such as guilt and remorse, for the most part, disappeared.  The fact that Buffy was so upset about her current state of unliving left Spike no choice but to assume the worst.  And boy, were they buggered.

*Why should you care, mate?* Spike asked himself. *You should roll yourself right on down to Angel’s room and interrupt their little fuck fest and tell the ponce his new pet still has her soul.* But something about that didn’t settle well with Spike. *Bugger* he thought as he went back over to the weeping girl.  He had to calm her down now, before Angel and Dru made as appearance.

“Slayer.” he growled, pulling her hands away from her face, and gripping her chin hard, forcing her to meet his eyes.  A low rumble emitted from his chest, and almost immediately her face melted back into its human form.

“Don’t call me that.” Spike rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment.

“Buffy.  You HAVE to calm down.  When Angel sees you, you have to make him believe that you’re part of the Big Bad.  And it had better be a good show, too.”

“I’d rather he just kill me.” she said, her soft voice devoid of emotion.

“Don’t you get it?  If he finds out. . .if he even gets a hint. . .Your unlife won’t be worth shit.  He won’t kill you, pet.  Not right away.  He’ll keep you as a plaything.  And not just his and Dru’s.  You’ll be passed around for the rest of that lot to have a taste, as well.  Anything and everything he can do to make you suffer, he will do.  Until you’re as crazy as Druscilla.”  Buffy shivered as mental pictures   popped into her head to give life to his words.

“Why do you care?”

“Don’t have a clue, pet.  Maybe it’s because you hate him just as much as I do.”  Buffy’s sad hazel eyes stared into the depths of his blue gaze.  Seeing the truth there, Buffy simply nodded, then looked away.  A grim smile settled on his mouth at her acceptance.

“Right then.  Go get cleaned up.  I’m sure we’ll be summoned when the Grand Ponce and Druscilla are done ‘playing’.” Buffy grimaced at that, but moved off the bed to do as he told her.

Spike reached into the pocket of his t-shirt and pulled out his cigarettes.  He was dressed only in his black jeans and shirt, not bothering with the red button down or duster since he had been stuck in the room with the newly turned slayer all day.  He figured he’d have to have Buffy help him put them on once Angel crooked his finger and had them scampering like mice, since Dru couldn’t be bothered with him anymore.

That thought had his jaw tightening and he pounded a fist against one of his useless limbs.  A bolt of pain shot through that leg, reminding him that feeling was slowly returning.  He had been trying to work them a little, during the day, so none of the others would find out.  But now that he was sharing his space with the Slayer, he didn’t know if he’d be able to continue.  He’d have to figure out a way, because he was determined to walk again.  And when that happened, Angel would pay.  And Dru . . . Spike wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about Dru.  He had loved her, unconditionally for over a century.  But had she shown the same devotion?  Once he had been confined to the chair, and Angel had returned, she had left him without a backward glance.

Spike was still contemplating the situation when he heard the bathroom door open.  Turning towards the door, Spike’s eyes studied the blond woman leaning on the frame.  She had pulled her hair out of the sloppy ponytail it had been in and it now fell in soft waves around her face.  Her small, tightly muscled body was encased in a pair of painted on, blue jeans, and a skimpy, pink tank top.  Simple white sneakers adorned her feet.  Buffy started to feel slightly embarrassed at the boldness of his gaze, and she glared hotly at him

“Not exactly dressed to kill, are you Pet?” he said, a leer crossing his features.

“I didn’t know I was going to be the guest of honor, so I didn’t dress accordingly.  And if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to show you why I was the chosen one.”  Spike chuckled at her prim tone.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, luv.” he said, the smoke from his cigarette creating a mock halo around his platinum head.  “And you better get used to what I just did, because when we get downstairs, everyone of them is going to look at you in just the same way.   And all getting prissy about it is going to get you, is a one way ticket to getting gang fucked.” Spike told her, crushing out his cigarette.  Buffy shuddered once more at his words, then heard the question she’d been tossing around her head while she washed her face tumble from her lips.

“Am I going to have to. . .you know. . .with Dru?”  Spike’s scarred eyebrow popped up at her question.

“Probably.”

“But I’ve never. . .” her eyes were wide and shocked.

“Doesn’t matter.  I was even more virginal than you are when I was turned, Pet.  And my first sexual experience was with Angel.  And I definitely had never. . .” he trailed off, suppressing a chuckle at her gaped mouth expression.  “And you never know, you just might enjoy it.”  The expression on her face let him know just what she thought of that.  “And even if you don’t, you better make sure that they think you do.” he finished as knock sounded on the door.  A small, dark haired female minion entered the room after Spike called out permission.

“Angel is waiting in the main room.” she told him, staring directly into his eyes.  A low growl filled the room until she dropped her gaze in deference to the older vampire.

“Tell him we’ll be down in a minute.” He pulled on his red shirt as she left the room, then turned and looked at the former Slayer.  “Ready, pet?”  Buffy nodded, then followed him from the room.

Chapter Two

All eyes trained on the blonde pair as they made their way into the great room.  Spike entered first, followed by Buffy, who stared straight ahead, looking at Angel and his queen.  There was the man that she had loved so desperately, talking and laughing like they weren’t even there.  Conversation began again as it became clear that nothing interesting was going to occur with the former master vampire and the former vampire slayer.

Spike heard the snickers at their being ignored echo softly around them.  Buffy continued looking in front of her, just barely suppressing a look of hatred towards the vampire king.  He caught her gaze and shook his head slightly, before turning his attention back to the disgusting display in front of him.

Druscilla was smiling and fawning all over Angel, her musical laughter setting Spike’s teeth on edge.  With agitated movements, Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it, blowing out a plume of smoke before speaking.

“As entertaining as this is, I’m sure there’s something better on the telly.  So if you don’t mind. . .” Spike waived his cigarette in the air for emphasis, and smirked when he was rewarded with a dark glare from Angel.  The brunettes eyes turned to Buffy, and she managed, just barely, not to squirm under his appraisal.  Druscilla regarded the blonde cooly, waiting for her ‘daddy’ to speak first.

“Buffy. How are you this evening?” Angel asked, his voice cold and mocking.

“Hello, lover.  I’m just fine.” Buffy answered, thinking this was the most ludicrous situation she could ever find herself in.

“I trust Spike took good care of you.” He said, beckoning her closer.  Buffy walked up the two steps to reach the brunette couple, and pouted prettily.

“I guess.  But I was hoping to see you.” Her voice was sugary sweet, guaranteed to cause cavities.  Angel’s smile was huge as he leered at her, his eyes roaming free over her body.

“Well, Dru and I had some. . .things to discuss.  Perhaps, if you’re good, you’ll be able to join us later.” Dru’s eyes snapped to Angel, anger flashing briefly across her face.  But then she seemed to consider the idea, and turned her blue eyes onto the Slayer.  A slow smile spread across her face and she urged Buffy closer.

“What a lovely idea, my Angel.  I’m sure she tastes delicious.” Dru’s voice carried through the room, letting everyone present know it wasn’t Buffy’s blood she was talking about.

Spike smoked his cigarette, the scene in front of him making him angry and horny at the same time.

“As I said before, can I leave?” He spat, glaring at the trio.  Angel brought his attention back to his childe, a smirk crossing his handsome face.

“What’s the matter, Spike.  Not ‘feeling’ well this evening?  Or maybe feeling isn’t the right word, since you’re even more dead that usual below the waist.”  A spattering of laughter danced around Spike at Angels’ lame attempt at humor, causing the younger vampires’ blue eyes to flash yellow.

“Real, funny Angel.  You should pack that act up and take it on the road.”  He sneered, not really happy with the barb, but too pissed to come up with anything better.  Angel stood and moved around Buffy, stopping on the top step to peer down at Spike.

“Now, William.  is that anyway to address your elders?” His sire’s voice was low, dangerous.  Spike knew better than to taunt him, especially since anything could set him off.  From a word spoken in the wrong tone, to accidentally breaking a glass.  And with Spike in the wheelchair, he couldn’t exactly defend himself.  His mouth was always what got him in trouble.  And he was about to be royally buggered.

“Yeah, well.  What can I say?  Respect has never been my strong suit.”  Before Spike even had a chance to react, he found himself hauled against the broad chest of his sire, his useless legs dangling beneath him.

“You see what happens when you let your children run around without discipline.” Angel asked conversationally, before throwing Spike onto the floor.  The blonde vampire pushed his hands underneath him, in a vain attempt to at least try to get away.  Angel was on him in the next instant, his clawed hands ripping Spike’s clothes away, and opening gashes along his pale form, causing rivets of blood to stain the floor.

Buffy’s wide, horrified eyes met Spike’s in the second before Angel thrust into him.  His demon surged forward at the pain, but he didn’t utter a sound as the brunette vampire grunted above him.

Druscilla laughed merrily as she caressed and pinched Buffy’s breasts, her arousal at the violent scene in front of her making her tremble.  Buffy suppressed a moan at Dru’s ministrations, tears misting her eyes at the obvious pain Spike was in.  The minions watched with rapt attention, as their master drove mercilessly into the younger vampire, and their mistress fondled the former Slayer.

Dru pressed herself tightly against Buffy’s back, a hand traveling down to cup her mound through the denim of her jeans.  A shudder racked through her body as Dru’s soft voice purred in her ear.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” She purred, running her tongue along the line of Buffy’s throat.  Humiliation warred with desire in Buffy’s body as she felt herself being brought closer to orgasm.  She felt the minions eyes on her as she watched Angel thrust into Spike, finally roaring in climax, and burying his fangs viciously into the flesh of the blondes throat..  He threw Spike away from him, a look of distaste on his face while he tucked himself back in his pants.

“Get him out of here.” He ordered, turning back to the women on the stairs.  A look of pure lust filled his eyes when he saw what his queen was doing to the young blonde.  He stepped closer to them and yanked open the fly of Buffy’s jeans, so Dru’s eager hand could slide inside.

“There you go, Dru.” he said, as he yanked the offending garment down.  Buffy was lost the second she felt Angels’ tongue penetrate her folds, warring with Dru’s fingers over the sensitive flesh of her clit.  Nobody moved as they watched Buffy scream in orgasm, then slump bonelessly back against the vampire queen.  Angel stood, and smashed his mouth against Buffy’s in a hard kiss, forcing her taste the combination of her juices and Spike’s blood on his tongue.  To her dismay, it caused her arousal to flare again, and she kissed him back hungrily.

“Oh, you’ve definitely been good.” he leered, before slinging her over his shoulder and striding out of the room, followed closely by Druscilla.

Once the trio was gone, the minions seemed to remember their former master crumpled on the floor.  Wordlessly, he was picked up, and deposited back in his chair, his tattered clothing thrown across his lap.  Then he was wheeled back to his room, snicker’s following in his wake.

****

When the sun started to crest over the horizon, Buffy let herself back into the room.  Druscilla didn’t mind having the slayer in the room to play games with, but sleeping there, was a totally different story.  After hours of fucking and being fucked, Buffy was cast unceremoniously out of the room, and told to go tend to Spike.

She couldn’t say that she minded, though.  Her mind was at war with her body, and she needed time to think and calm down.  She grimaced when she approached the bed, her eyes taking in the long gashes that marred Spike’s normally perfect skin.  His face was buried in the crook of his arm, hiding his face.  She figured he was ignoring her, and not asleep.  Sighing heavily, and wincing a little at the pain she herself was in, Buffy went into the bathroom and got a washcloth.  Searching under the sink, she found a plastic basin and filled it with warm water, then returned to the room.

Moving as gently as possible, she eased onto the bed next to him.  Dipping the washcloth into the water, she wrung it out, then gingerly began to clean his wounds.  The toughest part came when she had to clean between the tight cheeks of his buttocks, where the most evidence of Angel’s abuse was pooled.

One blue eye popped open as she did this, regarding the blonde girl in surprise.

“Thank you.” he whispered, not raising his head to look at her.  She reeked of Angel and Dru, he could see the evidence of their mating across the perfect skin of her chest and arms.

“You’re welcome.” Buffy answered, tossing the bloody cloth into the basin then climbing off the bed to take it back to the bathroom.  Turning the water on full blast in the shower, she stripped, leaving her clothes in a heap on the floor.  Climbing in under the spray, Buffy began to scrub, tears pouring down her cheeks to mingle with the water.  She scrubbed until her skin was raw and her tear ducts were empty.  Then she shut the water off and climbed out, wrapping herself in a towel before reentering the room.

“Do you have something I can wear?” she asked.  Spike raised his hand to point to the dresser, but said nothing.   Buffy pulled out a t-shirt and slipped it on, dropping the towel.  Upon further searching, she found a pair of what appeared to be brand new boxers and put them on.  She then picked up the towel and a comb she found on the dresser and went back to the bed.  Spike had scooted over so she would have room to sit, his eyes open again as she settled herself.

In silence, Buffy began to comb her hair, her mind a torrent of conflicting emotions.

“Well, pet.  Did you enjoy it?” Spike asked, propping his head up on his fist.  Her eyes shot daggers at him while she continued to pull the comb through her hair.

“That’s none of your business.” she snapped, tears misting her eyes once more.  A bitter chuckle filled the air as he watched her pick at a particularly nasty tangle.

“Just hoping you had a better time than I did, luv.”  Spike maneuvered himself around until he was sitting on the bed, then pulled himself back to lean against the headboard.    Buffy was glad that her face couldn’t blush anymore as she caught a glimpse of his shaft from the corner of her eye.  He pulled a pillow across his lap and snagged the comb from her hand.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

“Trying to help.  Now shut up and come here.”  Spike had know idea why he was getting ready to help the Slayer comb her hair, but he found himself really wanting to do it.  Druscilla never let him do this for her any more, and it was one of the few things he’d had to do for her that he had enjoyed.  Casting him a look of confusion, she slid closer to him.

“I’m sorry.” she said quietly, as he began.

“For what?”

“For what happened, downstairs.”

“S’not your fault.  I should know when to keep my mouth shut.” Spike answered, fighting the anger back. *Soon, Angel, soon* he thought, gently working the comb through the tangle.

“But it was so. . .brutal.” Buffy still couldn’t believe that she had witnessed it.  While being fondled by Dru no less.  A tear fell down her cheek, and she hastily brushed it away.

“You trying’ to say he was any more gentle with you?  I can see the truth, luv.”  Buffy seemed to shrink at that, revulsion and excitement warring inside her.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she whispered, another tear dripping down her face.  “How can two people I HATE so much. . .” she let the sentence drop, not really sure why she was trying to confide in SPIKE of all people.

“Make you cum so many times you think you might die from the pain of it.” he finished for her, trying not to be affected by the silk of her hair flowing through his fingers, or the tremor in her voice when she spoke.  She sniffled as she nodded.  He sighed, running the comb through her hair on last time, before tapping it on her shoulder to let her know he was done.  “I wish I could tell you, pet.”

Buffy turned around and sat cross legged on the bed, her hazel eyes searching his face.  A thought struck her, and she smiled.

“What?” he asked, glaring at her.

“Well, it’s kinda funny.  Just a couple of weeks ago, we we’re fighting.  And now here we are, talking as if we’ve never been enemies.” a giggle slipped between her lips, causing Spike’s lips to quirk in response.

“Yeah, well.  Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you put me in that blasted chair.  Going to have to think up something proper to get my revenge on you for that.” Buffy arched a brow at him, a ‘yeah, whatever’ expression on her face.  Then she did something that totally shocked him.  Leaning over, she brushed a kiss across the sharp plain of his cheek, then turned so she could rest her head on the pillow on his lap.  After a moment of staring at her, wide eyed, Spike tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder.  She sighed a little at his touch, and snuggled a closer to him.

Spike stared down at the small woman in his lap, a curious feeling worming its way through his unbeating heart. *This could be dangerous* he thought, the tips of his fingers tangling in the ends of her hair.  Leaning his head back against the headboard, he allowed himself to slip into sleep.

****

Spike awoke the next evening to find himself alone in the bed, the sheet tossed across is lap.  Rubbing his eyes to clear them, he looked around the room for Buffy.  It was just past sundown, and Angel and Dru wouldn’t have emerged from their room yet.  But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have sent for the blonde girl.  He heard movement in the bathroom, and felt a wave of relief flow through him.  Scowling at this, Spike reached over to the night stand and grabbed the pack of cigarettes he left stashed there.  He had just lit one when Buffy emerged from the bathroom, her skin pink from the shower she had taken.

“I hear that cleanliness is next to godliness and all that rot, but isn’t it a little late for that?” Spike asked, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air.

“I didn’t feel clean.” she murmured, moving around the room restlessly, the towel she was wrapped in barely long enough to cover her ass.  Spike nodded his understanding, watching her.  As his eyes roamed over her small form, he felt something stir in him that he’d thought was dead.  Arousal.

*Bugger* he thought.  Well, at least he had feeling back in his bits and pieces, it seemed.

“Pet.  Put some clothes on.  I may be crippled, but I am still a male.” he growled.  Her pacing halted immediately, and she turned to look at him.  A smirk crossed her face when she realized his predicament.  Then it was gone as soon a she realized she was having bad Spike thoughts.  If she could have blushed she would have been as red as her friend Willow’s hair, she was sure.  Turning away, she looked at her non reflection in the mirror over the dresser, her hand gripping the top of the towel.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” she admitted quietly.  When Angel had brought her to the mansion, he hadn’t thought about her needing clothes.  Or maybe he’d wanted her to parade around naked, making her humiliation complete.

“Look in the closet.” he told her gruffly, motioning with the hand his cigarette was in.  “There was a female minion in here before me, then she met that other Slayer.” he said, answering her unasked question as to why he would have a woman’s clothes in his room when Druscilla was with Angel.

Tears misted Buffy’s eyes yet again as Kendra’s image popped into her mind.  They had become friends in the short time they had known each other.  What would happen now, if they met on the street?  Buffy knew all to well.

Opening the closet, Buffy couldn’t help but sigh at the finery she found there.  Shirts of silk in a multitude of colors greeted her, as well as leather pants and skirts, all in varying shades of the rainbow.  Boots and other various styles of shoes lined the bottom of closet. There were also, more casual clothes, like jeans and t-shirts.  Even sweats.  This girl apparently liked to run the gamut of fashion.

Pulling out a black suede mini skirt and a turquoise silk button down, Buffy dropped the towel, forgetting that Spike was behind her.  She was quickly reminded by the low growl that permeated the room.  She pulled on the skirt, quickly, hiding the curve of her buttocks from his view.  Spike studied the elegant lines of her back before she pulled the silk over her skin, sighing again as it slid sensuously over her. She buttoned it to just below her breasts, then took the ends and tied them, keeping her mid-drift bare.  Kneeling down, she pulled out a pair of low heeled, knee high suede boots in the same color as the skirt.  The female minion hadn’t been any bigger than Buffy, and the clothes fit perfectly.  The boots were just a little too big, but not enough to be uncomfortable. When she was done, she finger combed her hair and turned to Spike.

“Well?”  Spike’s mouth went dry as he looked at her. The color of the shirt set off her still tanned skin.  The black skirt and boots accented her muscled legs.  Her hair was a wild tousle around her shoulders.  Her face was devoid of make up, giving her an innocent look that countered the way she was dressed.

“Maybe you should have stayed naked. You were less distracting.” he muttered, brushing the ash away from his lap where he had dropped his cigarette, luckily not burning himself in the process.  Buffy bit her cheek to keep from smiling at his comment.  She didn’t know why it made her so happy to know that he found her attractive. Their eyes met and held, neither willing to admit to the attraction that had been sparking between them since the first time Spike stepped out of the shadows, clapping.

A knock on the door had Buffy’s eyes dropping first, while Spike barked “Come in.”

The same female minion from the night before entered, eyes down.  In her hands she carried two blood filled goblets.  Leaving them on the table by the door, she quickly left, the tension between the two blondes almost palpable.

“I guess I’m not going hunting tonight.”  Buffy said, bringing a glass to Spike.

“He doesn’t trust you yet.” he said, simply, draining the blood quickly.  Buffy sipped hers almost delicately, her demon savoring the taste, but her soul crying out for the person that had died to provide it. *How did Angel live like this?* she wondered.

“Pet.”  He waited until she looked at him.  “Could you. . .help. . .” he trailed off, waving a hand to indicate his lack of clothes.  His other hand was clenched into a fist, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Wordlessly, Buffy went to the dresser to retrieve clean clothes for him.  Handing them to Spike, she waited until he indicated he needed help.  Once he was dressed and settled in his wheelchair, he lit another cigarette, his blue eyes looking into hers.

“Thanks.” he said quietly, for the second time in twenty four hours.  If anyone had told them that they would ever be in a situation that dictated they rely on each other, they would have hit first and asked questions later.

“Your welcome.” she replied, just as quietly.  She looked at him thoughtfully for a minute, her head tilted to one side.

“What?” he asked through a cloud of smoke.

“How much feeling do you have in your legs?”

“Some.” he answered, cautiously.

“Enough to start trying to work them?”  His scarred brow shot up at her question.  Why would she want to help him?

“Maybe.”  Buffy rolled her eyes and set her glass down with a crack on the dresser.

“Look, if you don’t want to walk again, just tell me.  I won’t try to make you.” she snapped as she began to pace the room.

“Of course I want to walk again, you bint.  But why the hell would you want to help me?” He growled back.

“WHAT is a bint? Never mind.  I’m the one that put you in the chair, I figured I might as well help you get out of it.”

“And what’s in it for you?” Spike returned, positioning his chair in her path.

“You help me kill Angel.”

Chapter Three

Over the next couple of weeks, Spike and Buffy fell into a routine of sorts.  Every night, they would wait in their room for Angel and the others to return from the hunt, then make their appearance in the great room.  Buffy would be expected to sit in between Angel and Dru, at their feet, while Spike would sit to the side and ignore the comments and snickers coming from the others in the room.  Then, he would return, alone, to their room, and wait for Buffy to get back..  Then she would clean up, always scrubbing until her skin was raw, before working with Spike to get him walking.

By the end of the first week, he could stand for a few seconds at a time.  By the end of the second week, he could stand without assistance.  And by the end of the third week, he was taking hesitant steps, holding Buffy’s hand for support.

Her huge smile and words of encouragement kept him going until he was trembling from exertion, and falling in a heap on the bed.  They hadn’t spoken since that night about her desire to kill their sire.  But it hung between them every day Spike recovered just a little bit more.  It wasn’t that Spike had a problem with doing it.  Quite the contrary.  He just didn’t know what to do about Dru.  She wouldn’t react well to Angel’s demise, to say the least.  But Spike didn’t want her dead.  No matter how much she had hurt him, or the fact that he knew he’d never trust her again, would probably leave her as soon as he was able, he still loved her.  He just couldn’t figure out a way to take out Angel, and not hurt Dru in the process.

And then there was Buffy herself.  Spike didn’t even want to begin to dissect the way he was beginning to feel about the girl.  He had every reason to hate her.  First and foremost being she was once a Slayer.  The killer of his kind.  And his guess was, if she ever got out from under Angelus’ control, she would be again.  Then there was the fact that if she hadn’t put him the chair to begin with, he at least could have challenged the ponce for dominance when he returned to the fold.  Then, maybe, Spike could have retained some dignity in the eyes of the minions.  Right now, all they saw when they looked at him was weakness and failure.  The Slayer hadn’t killed him, but she had taken him out of the Big Bad, making him rely on others to fill his needs.

And Angel reveled in reminding him of his inferiority.  At least six times since Buffy’s first night, the vampire king had decided that Spike was in need of ‘discipline.’ And each time was worse than the one before.  Spike had a sneaking suspicion that Angel was trying to push him into killing himself.  The ultimate pathetic end to the once powerful master vampire.

After the minions would dump him back in his room, Spike would curse the day that he ever traveled to the Hell mouth in search of his third Slayer.  Then he’d curse Buffy to all sorts of hideous ends.  But then she would come back to the room, reeking of the brunette couple and blood, and carefully clean his wounds.  Her hands would be soft and soothing, her very presence a comfort.  And Spike would be thankful he knew her.  Those would be the days that she would push him the hardest to get out of the chair.

Spike was already up, walking slowly around the room, when Buffy came in.  Her sad eyes lit up when she saw his progress.

“You’re up.  Really up.  Without help.” She said, smiling hugely.  Spike couldn’t help but return her smile with a grin of his own But his smile faded when he saw the evidence of the nights activities marring her skin.  Duel bite marks graced each side of her neck, as well as the tops of her breasts.  A colorful bruise bloomed across her cheek, and deep, bloody gashes decorated her arms.  He shuddered to think what the brown leather pants were hiding, as well as the material of her black tank top.

Buffy saw his expression change, and the sadness seeped back into her eyes.

“Uhm, I’m going to take a shower, then we can work some.” she said, turning towards the bathroom door.  Spike surprised them both with the swiftness in which he reached her.

Gripping her arm, he silently implored her to meet his eyes.  Once she did, he tentatively stroked the back of his knuckles down her cheek.

“Let me see, luv.”  His voice was whisper soft. His usually cold eyes, kind.  Buffy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat at his concerned expression.  Taking a deep unneeded breath, she stepped away from him and closed her eyes.  She then quickly pulled the tank over her head, and slipped the pants from her legs.  Revulsion and awe warred through Spike as he studied the small woman in front of him.

Bite marks scarred the mounds of her breast, and inner thighs.  One long welt rose against the soft swell of her abdomen, with several small cuts crossing it.  A deep purple bruise was visible through the soft down of the curls that covered her womanhood. Nail tracks ran the length of her calves and thighs, dried blood flaking from her skin. Luckily, most of the cuts were already healing over, thanks to her combined vampire/slayer healing ability.

“Turn ‘round, Buffy.” Spike’s voice was thick with the combination of arousal and anger.  What he saw next made him sink to the bed as his weak legs gave out.  Across the globes of her buttocks, were eight, still oozing holes.  A little farther up on her hips were two matching ones.  Spike’s mind conjured up the image of Angel kneeling between her shapely legs, his clawed hands digging viciously into her soft flesh, and slamming her into the bed with all the force he could manage.  Blood trickled slowly from her rear passage, bringing other images to mind entirely.  The pillock had taken her virginity for the second time.

Spike’s anger turned to rage as he gazed at the destruction that had been done to her body.  He was all for a little violence with sex, but this was too much.  Buffy, even as a vampire, was the sort of girl that you worshiped.  Not brutalize.   He knew, now, that he would kill Angel and Dru for what they did the girl shivering in front of him.

The sound of Buffy’s tears was what pulled Spike out of his murderous fantasies.

“Oh, Pet.  Don’t” He stood and went to her, gently pulling her into his arms.  She sobbed against his chest, her fingers clutching his t-shirt.  His hand rubbed soothingly down her back, soft words of comfort spilling from his lips.  Slowly, her tears began to ebb, her trembling ceased.  She sniffled, gathering her courage around her to look up at the vampire who she had hated not even a month before.

“Is this all I have an eternity to look forward to?” she asked quietly.  “Does it always have to be like this.  Is this the only way vampires know how to. . .”  Spike’s blue eyes burned into hers, his feelings indiscernible in their depths.

“No, Pet.  Not always.  That’s just their specialty.” he said, drawing his thumb along her cheek to collect the moisture clinging there.  As they stood looking at each other, they felt the air change around them.  They both became suddenly aware that Buffy was still huddling, quite naked in his arms, and the affect it was having on him.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she felt his hardness pressing against her intimately.  The part of her that was still the Slayer screamed that she should have been disgusted.  This was SPIKE after all.  But the part that was still very much a young girl, trying to fit into something that went against everything she believed in, responded to the sympathy and desire that flared in his eyes.  Tentatively, she raised her head, and brushed her lips lightly across his.  His arms tightened around her at the feather light contact, his eyes stormy.  She looked up at him nervously, her wide hazel eyes searching his face.  When her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, Spike moaned, his hand drifting up to the back of her neck to tangle in her hair.

“Tell me to stop.” he whispered, as he lowered his head towards hers, stopping within a breath of her lips.  Buffy couldn’t have said anything if she’d wanted to, she was to caught up in the seductive web that was woven around them.  When she didn’t say anything, Spike closed the distance between them.

Buffy gasped at the first, gentle brush of his lips against hers.  Twice more he did this, gently easing his mouth against hers, allowing the fire to ignite slowly, almost tortuously.  When his tongue swept across her bottom lip, she moaned, leaning into his hard body.  Spike used the opportunity to gain entrance, tasting the sweet cavern of her mouth before engaging her tongue in a slow dance.  His right hand was still buried in her hair, his fingers pressing lightly against her neck, his thumb tracing soft patterns on the base of her skull.  His other hand was running across her back in a barely there caress, sending shivers coursing down her spine.

This was what she wanted, the gentleness.  The feeling of being the most important thing in the world to the person your with.  She was aware enough to be surprised that Spike was capable of such tenderness.  She had been on the receiving end of his sarcasm and fists for so long, that his concern for her had been a shock.  And over the last few weeks, as she helped him regain the use of his legs, Buffy had begun to realize that her feelings for the blonde vampire were becoming the warm and fuzzy kind.

Her initial reason for helping him, had been to get him to help her kill Angel.   But as the time had past, it changed.  Now she wanted him to walk again for HIM.  So he could regain what Angel had taken from him.

Buffy whimpered into his mouth when he deepened the kiss, his tongue slowly making love to hers.  Her hands slid up his chest and across his shoulders to bury themselves in his hair.  The soft cotton of his t-shirt rubbed against her nipples, sending tremors straight to her core.  She started to unconsciously rub against him, seeking skin.

Spike was lost the second his mouth touched hers.  The sweet taste of her mouth, the soft feel of her skin was making him crazy. He knew he was playing with fire.  She was Angels’.  But he knew he would risk being sent to Hell for just one night with this girl that had wormed her way into his heart.

Tightening his grip around her waist, he drew her off her feet, turning at the same time.  Never breaking the kiss, he placed her on the bed, the pressure of his mouth becoming more urgent as he settled himself on top of her.

She arched up into him when one of his hands slid up her rib cage to claim her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple.  She moaned deep in her throat when he broke from her mouth and replaced his hand with his lips.

“Oh God.”  She breathed, her hands clutching tight in his hair, holding him to her.  The smell of her arousal, mixed the scents of Angel and Dru was driving him over the edge. It had been so long since he’d had a woman, his body wanted to get to the finish line before they had even really started. His want for her clouding his was mind as he sought to bring her pleasure.  So caught up was he in her taste and feel, that he forgot about her injuries.  While his tongue circled and laved her nipple, his hands traveled the length of her sides to her hips.  Gripping them tightly to press himself against her, he almost didn’t hear her cry out in pain.

He was off her so quickly that his still shaky legs almost gave out underneath him.  Cursing himself when he saw the tears of pain in her eyes, he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Pet.  I forgot. . .”  He dropped his hand and cast his eyes downward.  Buffy gingerly climbed off the bed, and cupped his cheek.  Ducking her head a little to meet his eyes, she offered him a small smile.

“It’s okay.  I forgot, too.  But, maybe, we shouldn’t do this now.  It’s too dangerous.  For both of us.”  Searching her eyes, Spike was relieved not to see any anger or fear clouding them.  Nodding his head, he drew a finger down the side of her cheek before tapping it lightly against the tip of her nose.

“Why don’t you get in the shower, luv.  Then we’ll see about those cuts.”

“Okay.” she said, and turned away.  She paused when his hand touched her arm.  She gasped at the amount of heat that was flaring in his eyes.

“When we do this, Buffy.  I’ll make sure to wipe their memory from your mind.” he promised, before crashing his mouth against hers in a hard kiss.  It wasn’t gentle, but it still caused fire to course through her, and she had no doubt that he could make good on his words.  They were both panting heavily when they broke apart, and Buffy had to force herself to turn away from him and walk into the bathroom.

Spike moved to the bed, pulling a cigarette out as he sat on the edge.  Smoking thoughtfully, he sat staring at the door for a long time after it closed.

Chapter Four

Druscilla’s eyes snapped open, confusion as to why she woke so suddenly clouding her mind.

Then she remembered.  Ms Edith had shown her a dream. A nightmare, really.  Druscilla would have to punish Ms. Edith for showing her such unpleasant things after she had spent such a pleasant evening making that nasty Slayer bleed such pretty colors.  And her Angel had made her scream so many times.

Druscilla stretched, luxuriously, her pale, naked body sliding across the silk sheets.  The sleeping Angel shifted, draping a strong arm across her stomach, and pulling her to him.  A sigh escaped her lips, as she snuggled closer to her daddy.  This is how it should be, and if her dream hadn’t told her of Spike’s attempt to destroy them, she would let him take the Slayer away.  Ms. Edith had told her what they were hiding.   It made her smile to think of the torment that the blonde girl was going through.

“Don’t worry, my Angel.” she whispered, her eyes glittering dangerously with a clarity that rarely filled them.  “I won’t let him do it.” and with another sigh, Druscilla drifted back into sleep.

****

About an hour before sundown, Spike woke up to find Buffy nestled close next to him, her arm draped across his bare stomach.  Pulling her closer, he brushed a kiss across the top of her head.  He could have happily stayed where he was for the next hundred years of his life.  He knew that at the moment, that was impossible.  Angel and Dru had to be taken care of.  And he still wasn’t strong enough to do it.  But soon, he would be.  Then they could leave the Hellmouth and never look back.

“Hi.” her soft voice interrupted his thoughts.  Cocking his head so he could look down at her, he gave her a smile.

“Evenin’, Pet.  Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time.” she replied, dragging her nail in odd patterns across his stomach.  She rested her chin on his chest, her unneeded breath tickling his skin.  “Angels’ taking me hunting tonight.” she said softly, staring thoughtfully at her hand as it moved across his body.  She felt his arm tense around her, and she turned her head to look at him.

“I’m sorry, luv.” and he was.  Killing someone could destroy her spirit.

“I wouldn’t have to kill them, would I?” she asked.

“If you’re with, Angel.  Yes.  He won’t settle for anything less.” He felt a tear hit his chest, and he gathered her closer still.  Maybe he would follow them tonight.  Just to make sure she didn’t do anything to get herself killed.  “It’ll be alright, Pet.” he soothed, running his hand across her back.  She was in one of his t-shirts again, and the boxers that Dru had gotten him, but he never wore.

“But what if we see one of my friends? Or Giles?  I can’t. . .” she trailed off, her tears coming in earnest now.  He turned on his side to face her, and wiped the wetness from her cheek.

“I don’t know, Buffy.  He’ll probably take you to them.  Just to test your loyalty.  All I can say is make it look good.”  Spike was at a loss.  He didn’t have a soul, but even he could understand her not wanting to kill her friends.  He hadn’t gone after his own family when he was turned.  Just something about it hadn’t seemed right.  But Angel.  His family and friends had been the first people he had gone after.  The pillock couldn’t stand feeling human emotion, and so he took out the people that had made him feel.  And he expected all around him to do the same.  Spike had taken hours of torture at his and Darla’s hands because of it.  But he didn’t think Buffy could survive the same.

Buffy didn’t know what to think.  She knew if she didn’t do what Angel wanted, she was as good as dead.  And she didn’t want to be dead.  As much as she hated being a vampire, she knew that her dying would have a deep affect on the man in front of her.  And she couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting because of her.  But she didn’t think that she could kill her friends, either.  Again, she wondered how the souled Angel had been able to live like this.

“I’ll be here, when you get back.” was the only comfort he could give her.  It was cold comfort, he knew, but it was the best he could do.  Buffy nodded, her eyes expressing the pain and fear that she was feeling.  Pulling her into his arms, Spike held her tightly, lending her whatever strength he could to help her get through the night to come.

****

“Where are we going tonight, lover?” Spike heard Buffy purr to Angel from his position next to the stairs.  The vampire king and queen were standing next to the wide front door, preparing to go out.  Angel was decked out in his leathers, his black silk shirt buttoned halfway to show the muscled expanse of his chest.  Druscilla had on a red dress as dark as blood.  The bodice clung tight to her breast, pushing them up to enhance her cleavage.  The skirt flared out from her tiny waist to fall to her knees.  Red, high heeled boots hugged her calves.  Her hair was piled on her head in a mass of curls.  The couple was dressed, quite literally, to kill.

But it was Buffy that stole the show.  Her small, tightly muscled body was adorned in a tight column of royal blue silk.  It started above the swell of her breasts, and ended mid thigh.  She had on a pair of black sandals, with straps that wound up to right below her knees.  A black, bolero jacket completed the ensemble.  Her blonde hair was down, falling softly around her shoulders.

“Dru thought it would be fun to go to the Bronze.” Angel answered, slipping as arm around her waist and pulling her to him.  Dru’s eyes roamed over Buffy, gaging her reaction.

“Sounds like a blast.” Buffy agreed, a feral smile curving her lips.  Spike couldn’t help but marvel at her ability to lie so well.

“Well, Roller boy.  Don’t burn the house down.” Angel smirked before leading the group out into the night.  Buffy’s eyes caught Spike’s on her way out, and it was all he could do to stay seated.  She looked so lost and scared.

After she followed the others, Spike made a show of going back to his room.  When he got there, he locked the door, then stood, walking to the window.  Luckily, there was tree outside his window, and he used it to get to the ground.  Slipping quietly through the night, he left the mansion grounds and made his way to the Bronze.

Staying in the shadows, Spike went to the upper level, where he could see, but not be detected.  His first glance around the club told him that none of the Slayer’s friends were present.  Relief was short lived, however, when he saw the red head and her multi colored haired boyfriend thread there way through the crowd.

*Shit.* Spike thought when he saw Angel and the rest enter.  He had an arm slung around both Dru and Buffy as they walked further into the club.  Cursing violently, he slipped back down the stairs to intercept the young couple before Angel saw them.  As they rounded the staircase, Spike grabbed them both and yanked them into the shadows with him.   He forced the boy against the wall, his forearm across his throat.  Willow was shoved next to him, Spike’s hand across her mouth.  Her green eyes were wide with fear as she looked at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”  He told them, keeping an eye out for the hunting party.  “When I let you go, you leave.  Period.  Understand?”  Willow nodded wildly, while Oz just studied the blonde, his expression never changing.  “I’m giving you a chance here.  Don’t make me regret it.”  Slowly, he released the couple.  Neither reached for a stake, or stared screaming.  They just turned in the direction he indicated and left.

He made sure they were really gone before moving in the opposite direction.  Looping around, he made sure to stay out of sight, and then settled himself back to watch.  Buffy was on the dance floor, gyrating seductively to the music.  The boy she was dancing with was practically tripping over himself to look down her dress.  She was rubbing herself against him, letting him get a real good feel of what he could have.  Spike felt a surge of jealousy while he watched, wanting to be the one that she was curling herself around.

As the song ended, Buffy grabbed the boys’ hand and led him from the floor.  Spike lost sight of them through the crowd, but he figured they’d head outside.

When he reached the alley, the pair were already engaged in some heavy kissing.  The boys’ back was against the wall, while her hands slid up and down his arms.  She broke the kiss and worked her way along his jaw and down his throat.  The stupid git had no idea of the danger he was in, baring his neck for her wandering mouth.  Spike could see her ridges form the instant before she sank her fangs into the flesh of his throat. When she pulled away, the boy fell to the ground.  A look of horror flashed across her face, but it was gone quickly as Angel emerged from the shadows.

“Very good, Buffy.  I must say.  I didn’t think you had it in you.” Angel hauled her roughly against him and kissed her hard.  She responded eagerly, her hands gripping his hair.  Druscilla watched with an odd look on her face, one Spike didn’t recognize.  When the couple broke apart, the began to file out of the alley.  Once they were all gone, he walked over to the body.  Kneeling next to the prone form, Spike pressed his fingers against the side of his throat.  Sure enough, he wasn’t dead.  But his pulse was so faint, that it almost didn’t matter.

Spike stood and headed back to the mansion, satisfied that all was well for the moment.  He needed to be there for when Buffy returned, to make sure that she was alright.

****

Spike had just walked out of the bathroom from taking a shower when a knock sounded on the door.  Dropping quickly into his chair, he ran a hand through his still damp hair.  He rolled over to the door, and unlocked it before backing up and telling whoever it was to come in.

The same female minion walked through, her green eyes downcast as she entered.

“The master wishes to see you.” She said, her voice quiet.  Spiked cocked his head to the side and lit a cigarette.

“What for?” he asked her, his voice harsh.  All he had wanted to do was take a shower and slide into bed to await Buffy’s return.  He had over exerted himself by leaving the house and walking all the way to the Bronze and back.  Now he was tired, and dealing with Angel right now was not what he wanted to do.  Who knew what the tosser wanted.

“I don’t know.  He just sent me to get you.  He’s in his room with Mistress Druscilla and Buffy.” Spike ears pricked at the revolted tone that the girl used when she said the former slayers’ name.  He realized that was probably the way all of them felt.   Then he realized that she had said ‘his room’.  Why the hell would the ponce want him in there.  The only thing he could think of made him sick and excited at the same time.

“Alright, Sheila.  Tell ‘im I’ll be there in a minute.” he growled.  With a nod, she backed out of the room, the door closing silently.    Waiting until he heard her walk away, Spike stood and finished dressing.  Then he sat back in the chair and proceeded out of his room down to Angel’s.

Once outside the door, the smell of sex and blood assailed him, causing his demon to surge forward.  Fighting it back, and dreading what was to come, he raised his hand and pounded on the door.

It opened a second later to reveal Angel, shirtless and barefoot, his pants unbuttoned and riding low on his hips.  The smell became stronger when the door opened, and Spike could just see past his sire to the bed.  What he saw made his mouth go dry.  He flashed yellow eyes at Angel.

“You beckoned, Peaches.” he growled.

“Spike, my boy.  So good of you to come.” Angel retorted with mock courtesy.  “Please, come in.  We’re having a little celebration to commemorate Buffy’s first kill.  And since you haven’t been ‘up’ to having a woman in a while, I decided to be generous and let you come and join in the festivities.  Only as a spectator, of course.” He said, staring pointedly at the chair. *If you only knew.* Spike thought, his jaw clenching visibly.

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass.”  His tone let his sire know just what he thought of his ‘generosity.’

“Oh, no.  I insist.” Angel growled, holding the door open wider and sweeping his hand in a dramatic fashion, inviting his childe in.  Spike scowled, but heard the threat in the older vampire’s voice and moved his chair through the door.  “Why don’t you roll your way next to the bed, and make sure you have a good view.  Wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”  He sneered, closing the door.  But Spike wasn’t listening.  The blue orbs of his eyes were riveted to the bed, the scene playing out before him causing his cock to surge to life.

Buffy lay draped across the bed, her glorious, naked body glowing gold in the candle light.  Her graceful arms were raised above her head, where shackles encased her delicate wrists.  Blood poured from where she had yanked against her restraints, either in passion or fear, Spike wasn’t sure.

Her head was thrashing against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, her legs wide spread, where Dru knelt, eagerly lapping at the girls slit.  He moved closer to the bed, drawn to the erotic play.  He barely heard Angel snicker behind him as he angled himself for a better view.

Dru stopped her ministrations for a moment to gaze up at her former mate.  Smiling coyly at him, she moved a little to give him a good look at the pink, glistening passage, parting the folds for his appraisal.

“Isn’t she pretty, my Spike? All wet and tight.  Can you smell how sweet she would taste?” She taunted, swiping her tongue along the quivering flesh.  Buffy let out a strangled moan at the contact, her hips thrusting towards Dru’s face.  Her back was arched high off the bed, begging for release.

Spike captured his bottom lip between his teeth, willing himself not to get out of the chair and bury himself into the Slayers’ sopping channel.  The smell of her blood and her arousal was buzzing around him, making it almost impossible for him to remember that he couldn’t let them know he could walk.  He forced back a moan as Dru turned back to her task, her talented mouth licking and sucking the Slayer until she screamed.

Images of Buffy shackled to their bed, her body arching towards him as he made her cum, over and over, screaming his name slammed into his head.  So enraptured was he by this, that he wasn’t prepared for Angel.  He hadn’t realized that the older vampire had come to stand next to him.  He was naked again, his large hand pumping around his equally large member as he watched the two vampiresses.  Almost as an afterthought, Angel buried a hand into Spike’s hair and yanked his head around.  Blue eyes met brown in the instant before he forced his erection into the younger vampire’s mouth.  Spike immediately adjusted after the first gagging thrust, sucking his sire off in the way he had been trained over a century before.

After a few thrusts, Angel growled as his cock pulsed and shot his cold semen down his childe’s throat.  Spike swallowed instinctively, hiding his grimace at the taste.  He’d never really cared for this part of his relationship with his sire, but he was just as much a slave to it as Buffy.

When he was done, he pulled his softening cock from the blonde vampire’s mouth.

“Nobody sucks dick like you, Spike.” he said, almost affectionately.  Humiliation rushed through Spike, as he returned his eyes to the bed, trying to ignore the man next to him.  Both females had been staring intently at the two males.  Druscilla had a look of pure satisfaction on her face, lust and madness burning in her eyes.  Buffy looked at Spike through eyes glazed with desire and pain.  Her aching body cried out for more, while her mind screamed for it all to stop.  She had found the sight of the two men extremely erotic, and she wondered, not for the first time, what Spike’s mouth would feel like on her.  She’d already had a small taste, fresh arousal flowing through her at the memory of his mouth on her breast.

Angel moved to the bed, his large hands sliding over the now purring Dru.  He pulled her to him, on her hands and knees, pressing her face back into Buffy’s streaming cunt.  His cock hard once again, he thrust deeply into Dru, his hands digging ruthlessly into her hips while she buried her tongue into the Slayer for the second time.  All that could be heard in the room were grunts and moans and the sliding of bodies over the sheets as the trio raced towards their climaxes.

Dru screamed in release, her fangs and tongue burying themselves into Buffy’s folds.  The pleasure and pain coursed through Buffy’s over sensitized body, rocketing her over the edge.  Yanking at her restraints again, blood flowed free from the wounds, the combined smells inflaming the blonde watching.  Angel collapsed over Dru’s body as he came, his own fangs plunging deep into her flesh.

He pulled Dru up when he was done, and shoved her towards the head of the bed.

“I want to see Buffy eat you out.” he growled, as the dark haired vampiress straddled the helpless girls’ head.   The females’ eyes locked as the former Slayer raised her head off the pillow and began to lap at Dru’s wet passage, tasting the combined juices of her sire and his queen.  Angel crawled between Buffy’s legs, his eyes meeting Spike’s.

*See what you’ll never have?* his eyes told his childe, clearly.   He then shoved his full length into Buffy, her scream muffled by Dru’s cunt pressed against her mouth.

For hours this went on, Spike a silent spectator to the many different ways they took each other.  They had even pulled out toys from trunk at the end of the bed, so the males could watch while Buffy and Dru fucked each other over and over.

By the time Spike was finally allowed to leave, he was dizzy from the images and smells that he carried with him back to his room.  His aching cock pressed painfully against the zipper of his pants.  As soon as he got into the room, he stood, stripping himself naked then sprawling across the bed.  His left hand immediately wrapped around his erection, images of Buffy’s naked form playing through his head.  He stroked himself, pretending it was her sweet pussy surrounding him and not his own hand.  A growl permeated the room as his hips arched off the bed, his climax slamming through him.  Thick, white streams arced through the air to land across his chest and stomach.  Breathing heavily, his hand fell away to the bed.  When he calmed, he made his way to the bathroom, cursing Angelus and Dru and who ever else he could think of just for good measure

Chapter Five

Buffy opened the door to their room, hesitantly entering.  She didn’t know what to expect when she got there.  She was mortified at what Spike had witnessed, and she was afraid that he would be disgusted with her now.  That thought pained her more than anything.  She had seen hatred, and anger directed towards her from him.  But never disgust.  She didn’t think she could bear it.  That and the fact that she had killed somebody last night, didn’t make for a happy Buffy.

“Spike?” she called, not seeing him right away.

“Right here, luv.” he answered She turned towards the bathroom door, where he stood, draped in nothing but a towel.  The smooth lines of his muscles rippled as he walked to her, his eyes almost black with desire.  She quickly closed the door before he slammed her against it, his mouth crashing against her possessively.  His arms were braced on either side of her head, there mouths the only part touching.  Hungrily they kissed each other, trying to express with their lips and tongues the words they dare not say.

Breaking apart, Spike rested his forehead against hers, their breaths coming in desperate pants.  He took a hand away from the door, and gently brushed his thumb along her cheek.  When her bottom lip started to tremble from the force of emotion she was feeling, he raised his head to look at her, his brows drawn together with confusion.

“What’s the matter, pet?” he asked softly.

“I thought. . .” she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.  The past twenty four hours had been too much for her.  Every part of her was in a constant state of turmoil, and she didn’t know how much longer she could last without going crazy.

“What?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to come near me.” She admitted so quietly, had he not been a vampire, he might have missed it.  His hand on the door clenched into a fist, and his other opened to cup her cheek.  The blue fire of his eyes almost scorched her with their intensity.

“There is NOTHING they could make you do, or do to you that would make me stay away from you.” He told her.  Seeing the truth, Buffy could only nod, tears misting her eyes.

“I killed somebody last night.” she told him, dropping her eyes to his chest.  She knew he wouldn’t care about the life she took, but he would care that it was hurting her.

“He wasn’t dead.” Her eyes snapped back up to his, a flash of anger shooting through them.

“How do you know?  I was there. And I think I know what dead is.”  Reminding himself that doors can have ears, Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bed.  Pushing her onto the edge, he raised a finger to his lips, letting her know to keep quiet.  Walking to the door, he pressed himself against it, letting his senses drift out.  Feeling nothing, he returned to the bed.

“I was there too.”

“What?  Why?  How come you didn’t get caught?” Came her questions, shot off with the rapid fire precision of a reporter with a hot lead.

“None of those gits expected me to be there, so they weren’t looking for me.  I stayed back in the shadows.”  He answered.

“But. . .why?”

“I figured I could get there first and see if any of your friends were there.  And if they were, I could get them out.”  It was his turn for his eyes to drop.  The magnitude of what he had done struck her.  He had sought out her friends to save them.  So she wouldn’t be forced to either kill them, or be killed by Angelus when she couldn’t do it.

“Thank you.” she said, tugging his hand and pulling him onto the bed with her.  He shrugged a shoulder, uncomfortable.  He’d gone against himself to protect this girl, from herself and from the ponce.  But one look into her liquid eyes, told him he’d do it again.  He’d do anything for her, and that was all that mattered.  Cursing softly, he pulled her to him, cradling her in his arms.

“How did this happen?” he questioned.  He had loved Druscilla for so long, that he thought it would have been impossible for any body to take her place.  But this little girl did.  She filled him in a way that his Dark Princess never could.  Made him feel alive, and want to fight for something other than the dark pleasures that the night offered.

“I don’t know.” Buffy replied, her cheek pressed against his bare chest.  Breathing purposefully, she inhaled his scent.  Fresh from the shower, he was missing his usual tobacco and leather smell.  It bothered her a little, since she had started to take comfort in the familiarity of it.  Pressing a kiss on her hair, he set her on her feet.

“Go take a shower, luv.” he gave her a smile, tapping her lightly on the bottom.  Shooting a glare, she went to the bathroom.  It seemed she took more showers now than she ever did washing vampire dust away.  She found herself very glad that she’d never been able to wash Spike dust down the drain.  Without him here, she would have already tried to kill Angel, and would probably be dead.  Again.

Spike waited until she closed the door, then pulled on a pair of jeans, and his red shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.  Looking hatefully at the chair, he sat down and made his way out of the room.  Now that he was healing, he found hid old boredom settling in.  Never one to it still for long, these long months in the wheel chair had nearly done him in.

Rolling down the hall, he found himself passing by Angels’ room.  Uncharacteristically, the door was partially open.  Figuring Buffy must have left it open when she left, Spike moved closer, and reached over to quietly close it.  When he heard voices, he stopped.

“But, Angel.  What better way to make that nasty Slayer prover her loyalty.”  Dru’s child like voice reached him through the crack in the door.

“She can’t kill what she can’t find, Dru.”  Angel’s exasperated voice answered.

“Ms. Edith tells me she’s not trying very hard.”  She responded, petulantly.

“Well, what does Ms. Edith suggest?” he was getting angry now.  Spike felt an involuntary chill race down his spine.

“Don’t be angry, my Angel.” Dru’s voice had taken on a sulky quality.

“Just go to sleep.  We’ll go after them tonight.  It’s Friday.  One of them is bound to be at the Bronze.  Too bad her mother moved back to L.A.”  Spike didn’t hear what was said after that, as he pulled the door closed and went back to the room.  His mind was spinning with the implications of what he’d just heard.

“Where’d you go?” Buffy asked when he opened the door.

“Just needed to roll around a bit, pet.”  He joked, standing as soon as he shut the door.  She sat in the middle of the bed, combing her hair.  “Ready for bed?” he asked, a smirk on his face.  Rolling her eyes, she tossed the comb on the night stand and crawled under the covers.  Slipping in next to her, he pulled her against him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder.    As she drifted off into a contented sleep, Spike held her close, a plan forming in his head.

****

That night, Spike snuck out, his mission clear.  He’d had Buffy make his excuses to Angel for his not being present before they left.  He was sure he would be punished for it later, but right now he couldn’t worry about it.  He had things to do.

Breathing deep the scents of the night, he ignored the call of the pulsing blood around him.  Moving in the opposite direction of the Bronze, he made his way quickly to his destination.  Over the last few weeks, he had listened to Buffy talk about her friends, retaining any information that may come in handy later.  He knew that the Watcher usually spent his nights at the library, normally surrounded by the rest, doing research or whatever.

Walking up to the darkened high school, Spike slipped through the front doors, his inner voice telling him once again just what a stupid git he was being.  If he walked out of here alive it would be a miracle.

“Hello.” he whispered to himself, when he saw the tall, leggy brunette proceeding him down the hall. *It never hurts to have an insurance policy* he thought to himself.  With a burst of his vampiric speed, he was on her, his hand covering her mouth before she could even think to scream.

“Hush, now.  I won’t hurt you.  I just need your pretty little hide to keep me alive in here.” he told her, wrenching her arm behind her back.  Pushing her as he walked, he made his way to the library, where the others were sure to be.  Kicking the door open, he walked through, keeping his grip tight on the brunette.  “Hello, lovlies.” he called, smirking at the stunned expressions that greeted him.  A second later, they were in a flurry of motion, the new Slayer approaching with a stake raised.

“Now, now.  I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” he said, baring the girls’ neck.  Spike allowed his demon to surge forward to make his point, halting the Slayer’s progress.  The Watcher was standing next to the office door, watching him nervously, his hand stilled an inch from the crossbow on the bookshelf next to him.  The red head and her boyfriend were standing behind the Slayer, confusion etched on her face.  The brunette boy was eyeing him wildly, his concern for the girl in his arms palpable.

“What do you want, Spike?” the Watcher asked in a hard voice.  Quirking his brow at the ballsiness of the tone, the blonde vampire pulled the girl closer, a muffled cry escaping her.  The whelp started forward, only to be restrained by the red head boyfriend.

“Listen up, kiddies.  Here’s what’s going to happen.  When I walk out of here, you will scamper home and tuck yourselves into your little beddies like good children.  You will not answer the door, or let anyone in.  And I shouldn’t have to remind you about walking around after dark”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.”  Realization washed over Willow’s face as she stared at Spike.

“It’s because of Buffy, isn’t it?”  Spike’s eyes shot to hers, angry yellow crashing with sad green.

“What do you mean?” Giles asked, looking over at her.

“The other night, remember?” she looked at Oz for confirmation.  Nodding his head, he continued for her.

“He yanked us to the side.  Told us to get lost, quickly.  We saw Buffy with Angel and Dru on the way out.”

Spike’s jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed.

“Did they see you?” he growled.

“No, I. . .I don’t think so.” Willow answered.  Shrinking back a bit from the blondes anger.

“You bastard.  You turned her.”  Xander started forward again, shrugging Oz off of him.  Spike growled in warning, and he thought better of it.

“Why does everybody try to blame me?” he asked the ceiling, when he rolled his eyes.  “No, you gits.  I had nothing to do with her turning.  That was all Angelus.”

“Why do you care what happens to us?” Xander spat, anger and mistrust written all over him.

“I don’t care.” Spike told him pointedly.  Kendra took another step, looking for an opportunity to catch him off guard.  He just leveled eyes on her that reminded her that he had killed two Slayers before and was not afraid to do a third.

“It’s Buffy.”  Willow said again, understanding flowing through her.  “She’s not like normal vampires, is she?”  Spike slowly shook his head, then sighed.

“If you’ll guarantee that I’ll walk out of here, I’ll let her go.  Explain what I can.  But it has to be quick.  I can’t be missed, and you lot can’t be caught out.  Especially at the Bronze.”  All eyes turned to Giles, who silently nodded his ascent.  Releasing Cordelia, he stepped back, preparing for an attack.  She scrambled away from him and into Xander’s embrace, and Kendra lunged as soon as she was clear.

“Kendra!” Giles yelled a second to late.  But all Spike did was catch her in mid air, then threw her back towards Willow.  “Kendra, please.  Let him explain.”  Waiting until he was sure that no further aggression would be coming his way, Spike leaned on a table, and pulled out a cigarette.

He puffed out a cloud of smoke, cold blue eyes scanning over them before coming to rest on the watcher.  “Where shall I begin?”

****

“So, Buffy has retained her soul?” Giles said, thoughtfully.  “There was speculation of that happening, but no one has ever turned a Slayer successfully.”

“I know.  It’s dangerous, but Angelus never was a bright demon.  He didn’t get any brains until he got a soul.” Spike returned.

“If she still has her soul, than why hasn’t she killed him yet?  And most of all, why does she trust YOU?” This came form Xander.  Spike glared at him with yellow eyes.

“Listen, whelp.  There are dire consequences for killing your sire.  And for all her Slayer strength, it’s almost impossible to go against the childe/sire bond.  Which Angelus is making sure to reinforce every night, I can assure you.”

“Than how come he hasn’t realized her predicament?” Giles asked him.  The blonde shrugged a shoulder.  That thought had been bothering him for a while.  “And how come he doesn’t know what you’re about?’

“He hasn’t reinforced it with me.  He thinks I’m still in the chair.  No chance for me to be disobedient.  With Buffy, I dunno.  Maybe he does, and he’s just watching to see how she reacts to the things he throws at her.”

“Has she killed?” The Slayer asked, her choices clear.  Vampire=dust.  No questions.

“No.  She has fed, but the bloke was still alive.”  Glancing at the clock, Spike cursed and stood to go.  “Get home, all of you.  I’m planning on getting Buffy out of here, but I need a couple of days to do it.”

“What about Angelus?” Giles called after him, as he started towards the door.

“I’ll take care of him.”

Chapter Six

Over the next few says, Spike stayed out of Angel’s way as much as possible.  After they would leave at night, he would sneak out, gathering the supplies he would need, and be back in time to get into his room before they would return.  He knew that a repeat of that night wouldn’t happen, Angel had made his point, but he didn’t want to take that chance.  If he was caught out of his chair now, he would never be able to get Buffy out of here.  If he wasn’t dusted on the spot.  A fully recovered Spike was a threat to Angel’s dominance in the fold, and that wouldn’t be tolerated.

He’d also noticed Druscilla watching him, when she thought he wasn’t looking.  Fear that the stars were talking to her again spurred him to move faster.  He didn’t let Buffy in on his plans.  Her bond with their sire was to strong, and she would unwittingly let the older vampire in on what he was planning.

Finally, Spike knew it was time.  He had been sitting in the great room, waiting for them to return form the hunt, when a high pitched cry drew his attention to the door.  Dru walked in, pulling a struggling Buffy by the hair behind her.  A very pissed off Angelus followed them, blood running down the side of his face.

“Why, Angel.  Did you cut yourself shaving?”  Spike asked, a smirk curling his lips. Angel glared at him, not bothering to answer.  Druscilla flung the Slayer at his feet, her sinister smile sending a chill down his spine.

“The nasty Slayer couldn’t get herself invited in to play with any of her friends.” Dru’s voice was full of mock sympathy, as she circled the girl on the floor.  “I don’t think she was trying very hard, do you my Angel.”  Apparently not in the talking mood, the vampire king stalked to his chair and flung himself into, yellow eyes trained on Buffy.  His growl had her cowering on the floor, her eyes downcast as fear slammed into her.  She dared not to meet the eyes that Spike was burning into with, afraid to put him in danger.

“Do you mind if I teach her a lesson?” Dru asked, moving towards Angel, smiling coyly, and tracing one blood red nail up his arm.  Staring at the blonde girl, he waived a hand, then turned towards the minions that had trailed in after them.

“Get out.” he growled, and they all scattered.  Spike started to leave, only to be stopped by Dru’s childlike voice.

“Oh, no my Spike.  You stay.  I’ll make such pretty colors on her skin.  You’ll like it.” she purred.

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely, pet.”  He said turning back.  Buffy knelt trembling on the floor, her fear radiating to him, making his undead heart clench.  He didn’t think he could witness what was about to happen, but he knew he had to.  For her.

He watched in stoic silence as his former love pulled the girl off the floor and dragged her over to the wall.  There were leg and arm shackles imbedded in the concrete, and Buffy soon found herself ensnared in the cuffs.  There was enough slack for her to be turned, and the vampire queen face her towards the wall.  She flinched as Dru shredded the white, silk slip dress she had on, pulling the scraps from her body.  Leaving her clad in only her white heels, and thong, the dark haired vampiress almost lovingly caressed the curve of Buffy’s bottom, causing a tremor to wrack her small frame.  Hate and lust warred through her as Dru’s skilled fingers danced over her flesh.

With one last hard pinch to her nipples, Dru turned away and walked to a chest sitting behind Angel.  Kneeling in front of it, her face took on the look of a child at Christmas, as she gazed upon the treasures inside.  Pulling out a riding crop, she hummed with satisfaction, but put it aside.  She next pulled out a small whip.  Sliding it through her fingers, she got up, and walked back to the Slayer.

“Naughty, Slayer.” she chastised, the first crack echoing in the hall.  Buffy’s body tensed as the razor like pain shot through her, the smell of her own blood reaching her nostrils.  She didn’t cry out, to her credit, even as Dru whipped it across her back two more times.  Frowning slightly, the vampiress moved around the Slayer, randomly slashing the instrument across her flesh.  Not getting the reaction she wanted, she turned Buffy and set about whipping the front.

When the tip of the leather slashed across her nipple, Buffy cried out.  Stars formed behind her tightly closed eyes, her fangs cutting through her bottom lip as Druscilla warmed to her new game.  Spike’s jaw clenched as he watched the Slayers body get destroyed.  Blood flowed free, stirring his demon, but he forced it back.

When Dru spread Buffy’s legs and brought the whip up to penetrate the juncture of her thighs, the Slayer screamed as she was violated.  Angel watched from his place in the chair, a bored expression on his face.  Standing, he stretched then started from the room.

“Druscilla, don’t take to long.” he called over his shoulder, his meaning clear.  A feral smile spread across her mouth, as she continued to fuck Buffy with the whip.  The blonde girl’s eyes had rolled back into her head, as the pain caused her to pass out.  Frowning, Dru withdrew the make shift phallus and cracked it hard against her pelvic bone.  Spike flinched when he heard the crack of the bone, his rage growing by the second.

“Dru, she’s out cold.  That can’t be fun anymore.” he said, keeping his voice level.  She brought her eyes to his, and he closed his mind to her, knowing that she was trying to see into his head.  Dropping the blood soaked instrument to the floor, she turned away from the girl and started form the room.

“Nasty Slayer.  Can’t eve stay awake so I can play.”  She mumbled as she left the room.  Spike waited until he heard her footsteps fade before rolling his chair over to Buffy.  Releasing her from the shackles, he cradled the broken girl in his lap and went up to their room.

Closing the door, he locked it then got out of his chair.  Striding to the bed, he placed her gently across it before moving into the basin.  Grabbing the same basin Buffy had used to clean him after Angel had gone after him, he returned to the room and began to tend to the oozing wounds.  Clenching his jaw when he wiped the blood away from her sex, he vowed they would pay.  When he was done, he took the stuff back into the bathroom.

Spike went to the dresser and got out one of his black t-shirts and boxers, then went back to the bed.  As gently as he could, he pulled the clothes onto her body, sliding next to her when he was done.  Stroking his hand across her face, he settled in next to her to wait for dawn.

****

As soon as the sun crested in the horizon, Spike spurred into motion.  Dragging a bag out of the closet, he started to throw clothes into it, making sure to grab sweats and jeans for Buffy, figuring she’d be more comfortable in those for the time being. She hadn’t regained consciousness yet, and he hoped she stayed out for a while longer.

He pulled on his duster, slung the bag over his shoulder, then moved to the bed.  Gazing down at the sleeping girl, he tenderly brushed her hair away from her forehead.

“Time to go.” he muttered, before reaching down and gingerly cradling her in his arms.  Opening the door, he peered down the hall before stepping from the room.  Moving quickly through the mansion, he made his way to the kitchen where the exit to the garage was.  Balancing her carefully, he opened the back door of his De Soto, placing in the seat as gently as he could.  She moaned a little, causing him to tense.

“Sh.” he breathed, brushing his fingers across her cheek.  When she quieted, he resumed to his task.  Closing the door, he started to move around the garage.  Gathering the gas cans he had collected over the past few days, he headed back inside.

Starting on the upper level, he drenched the floors with the gasoline, trailing it behind him to lead back downstairs.  Once outside the room Angel and Dru occupied, he stuffed a rag into the nozzle and reached into his pocket for his lighter.  He set the can on the floor, flicked his lighter and set the rag aflame.  Moving quickly, he rushed through the house to get to the garage, the other can in his hand, the deadly liquid trailing behind him.

Stepping outside the door, he put it down, pulling out a cigarette.  Curling his hand around the flame, he lit the tobacco, waiting.  Once he heard the muffled explosion, he looked at the flame, then back to te door.   With a flick of his wrist, he sent the lighter arcing through the air.  It landed with a clatter, the fire igniting almost immediately.  Flicking his ash, he took one last look at the flames licking up the walls, before turning on his heel.  With his duster billowing out behind him, he walked to the car, climbing in and starting it up.  With a glance into the back to make sure Buffy was indeed still there, he put it gear and crashed through the garage door.

Laying on the gas, he drove as fast as the car would go, the light from the explosion brightening the post dawn sky.

“Fuck you, Angelus.” He said as he tore out of town, a niggling thought playing in the back of his mind.

*That was too easy*

The End

Or is it?