Slayer of Slayers

Chapter Four

Spike watched from his position behind a tree, as Angel skulked around the Watcher’s house.  He was trying to see inside, but all the shades were shut tight.  A smirk touched his lips as the dark haired vampire gave up, and stalked away.

*Wonder what Dru thinks of your little obsession.* He thought to himself, waiting to make sure Angel was good and gone.  Druscilla could be viciously jealous, as Spike could attest to.  He’d almost lost several layers of skin when he had finally left her.

Crushing his cigarette out under his boot, he stepped from behind the tree.  Stretching his senses out, he made sure that Angel hadn’t doubled back before walking to the door.

After three sharp knocks, and a great deal of shuffling and whispering, the door swung open.  There the Watcher stood, in a pair of casual khaki pants, a dark blue sweater, and well worn brown loafers.  A crossbow was held unwavering in his hand.  The blue eyes behind the glasses flashed dangerous sparks, causing Spike’s smirk to grow.  He knew who this Watcher was.  He’d almost been sent after him.

“Ripper.”  Spike said, his scarred eyebrow raised.  The Watcher, blanched a moment, but recovered quickly.  That earned him points in the blondes book.  “You know that won’t work on me.”

“It’ll slow you down.” Giles answered simply.  A slight nod from the vamp conceded his point.

“Where is she?”  Giles didn’t even pretend to not know what he was talking about.

“If I knew, do you really think I would tell you?”  Spike rolled his eyes, and leaned against the door jamb.

“She’s a vampire.” he commented, “Do you really think, if she was aware, that she would want to live like that?”  When the Watcher said nothing, Spike sighed, straightening.  His face morphed, which had Giles’ eyes widen a fraction.

“You know I’m not bound by vampire etiquette.  I don’t need an invitation to come in.  It’s up to you whether or not I go through you to get there.”  He took a step closer, impressed that the man continued to hold his ground.  “I can smell, her, you know.”  The silent battle of wills continued for a moment longer.  Then, Giles sighed and stepped back.  Spike’s human mask slid back into place as he stepped through the door.  Looking around, he saw the small group of teenagers amassed in the living room.  A look of confusion crossed his face just as a sharp sting in his neck had him spinning around.  His hand came up to pull out the dart, his eyes landing on the Slayer, who was holding a gun.

*Stupid* was his last thought as the floor rushed up to meet him.

~*~*~

The three teenage girls studied the unconscious blonde.  Cordelia and Buffy leaned on the back of the couch, the brunettes arms crossed over her chest.  Willow was kneeling on the couch, her upper body draped across the back.

“He’s cute.” Cordelia stated, thoughtfully.

“Just cute?  I thought he was HOT.”  Buffy countered.

“Why do you think his hairs that color?”  Willow wondered.

“It is a bit 80's.”  Cordy agreed.

“But it suits him.  Kinda completes the whole ‘I’m a bad ass, don’t fuck with me’ theme he has goin’ on.”  Buffy.

The other two nodded in agreement, ignoring the outraged gasping of Xander behind them.

“Shouldn’t we be stopping them?” he hissed at Oz.  The two teenagers were sitting across the room, sifting through the piles of books Giles was having them read.  He wanted them to see if there was any mention ANYWHERE, of a Slayer retaining her soul.  “I mean, they’re ogling the evil, undead guy!”  The werewolf looked at the three females, then between them to the object of their attention.

“Gotta say, Xand.  He is good looking.”  Oz said, in a tone that suggested that he was in complete touch with his masculinity, so he could say that.  Xander blanched, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Spike had been awake for a while, but he was playing possum.  He was trying to assess the situation, so he could get out of this mess.  It wouldn’t look good for him to be bested by a bunch of gossiping hens.  He did, however, bite his cheek to keep his smile at bay, while listening to the girls.

“Would you look at those cheek bones?” Cordy said with indignation.  “Why is that GUYS get the eyelashes and the cheekbones?  And we have to use mascara and blush to give us the ILLUSION of what God gave them naturally.”  She snorted in disgust.

“Maybe it has to do with all that nature crap.” Buffy suggested, looking between her two friends.  “You, know, the male of the species has to be prettier than the female to attract a mate, or something like that.”

“Oh yeah, like peacocks.  The males are all bright and colorful, while the females are drab and brown.”  Willow piped in.

“Speaking of cocks. . .” Cordy raised a delicate eyebrow, as all three sets of eyes traveled to the area in question.  Spike wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or annoyed when the whelp squawked with righteous fury for the direction of the conversation.

“Xander, what are you blustering about?” Giles asked, walking from the back of the apartment.  He was carrying yet another book, reading as he walked.

“They’re out here talking about his cheekbones, his eyelashes, and . . .his other parts.”  The brunette yelped, waving his hands for emphasis.  Giles looked at the three in question, taking in Cordelia’s cool expression, Buffy’s aversion of her eyes, and Willow’s face that matched her hair.

“Why is it okay for guys to talk about this stuff, and they’re considered just normal red blooded boys?  But when a girl is curious about it, we’re treated like pariah’s or something.” Cordy huffed, glaring at Xander.

“Yeah!” Willow and Buffy chimed in, lending their support to their fellow female.  Before any of the men had a chance to answer, Spike raised his head.

“That’s the way it’s always been, pet.  Women aren’t supposed to be sexual creatures.  Even though they are the embodiment of sexuality.” His blue eyes pierced into the Slayer’s, both feeling the electricity shoot between them.  “Now, would somebody bloody well tell me WHY you gits are acting like its an every day thing to have two vampires in your midst?”  All eyes stared at him, as if struck dumb for a moment.  Willow had blushed as even deeper shade of red at being caught in their perusal.

Cordy merely shifted hips, and rolled her eyes.  Xander backed away from the scene, placing the couch between him and Spike.  Oz watched in quiet interest, while Giles simply closed his book with a sigh.  Buffy and Spike continued to look at each other.

“Well, we usually only have one soulful vampire in our midst.  That is before he lost it.” Willow started.

“Don’t you mean before Buffy screwed it out of him?”

“Cordelia!” The teens chorused.  Giles took his glasses off and began to clean them furiously.

“What?” The brunette asked.  “That’s what happened.”  Rolling her eyes again, she stomped away from the couch and flopped in a chair.  Grabbing her magazine she flipped through it, her fingers making each page snap.

“What.  The bloody HELL.  Are you talking about?”  Spike pulled on the bindings at his wrists, finding it futile.  They must have used magically enhanced rope.  He glanced around the room, waiting for an answer from anybody.  He couldn’t figure out why he didn’t feel any fear from any of them, towards the Slayer.  Or how they all knew what she was to begin with.  Slayer’s didn’t have friends and family as a rule.  “Don’t you people realize your in danger?”

“Yes.  We do.”  Giles said, stepping in front of him.  “But, I assure you, the threat does not come from Buffy.”  Spike snorted at that.

“Right.  And why’s that?”

“She kept her soul.”  Another snort, and a disbelieving look was his answer.  But he couldn’t deny the lack of fear in the room.  Or the odd feeling he got whenever he looked at her.  He turned his gaze back to her, searching deep into the hazel depths of her eyes.  The first thing that struck him was the torrent of emotion that flowed through them.  Anger, fear.  Sadness and grief.  Nausea ran through him as he recognized these as uncharacteristic of a soulless vampire.  She should have already killed everyone on the room, long before he got there.  Yet, witness them still alive.  And despite the whelp, none of them seem uneasy around her.  Hell, the three girls had just been discussing his bits and pieces.

His eyes widened a fraction as another thought struck him.  If she had kept her soul, than the others. . .He couldn’t even think of it. All these years, he had believed what he had been doing was right.  That giving up part of his humanity was a small price to pay against the threat of a turned Slayer.  And after his brief exploration of his vampiric nature, he had resumed his duties tenfold, believing in the cause even stronger.

“Let me see if I got this right.  You shagged Angel, he lost his soul.  He turned you.  And you kept YOUR soul.  S’that bout right?”

“In a nutshell.” Buffy answered, watching as he struggled with this information.

*Bugger* he thought.

“Untie me.” his voice was quiet, but the words clear.  His jaw was clenched as sorrow coursed through him, almost choking him with it’s intensity.  What had he done?

“Er, I don’t think. . .” Giles started, only to stutter to a stop at the look in the blondes eyes.

“UNTIE.  ME.”  Buffy moved around her hesitant Watcher.

“I’m trusting you not to attack.” she told him, waiting for his nod of agreement before bending to grapple the bonds at his ankles.

“Buffy!  Are you crazy?  Undead.  Vampire.  Ring a bell?” Xander griped from a cross the room.

“I’m not undead you nit.”  Spike sneered, rubbing his wrists once the ropes were gone.  He stood and approached the Watcher, a desperate pleading in his eyes.  “Does the Council know?” he asked.

“I do not know.  It’s possible, I suppose.”  Spike nodded, not really thinking he had the answer.  Running an agitated hand through his hair, his other reached for his cigarettes.

“Would they have still sent you after her, if they did know?”  Willow asked him.  She had moved from the couch to her boyfriends side once Buffy had untied him.  She didn’t think he would hurt them, but she wanted to be as far away as possible just in case. The look he sent her so full of anguish and confusion, her heart couldn’t help but go out to him.

“I dunno.” He dragged absently on the cigarette, his eyes getting a faraway look.  He turned on his heel and strode out of the apartment, the door slamming in his wake.

“God, rude much?” Cordy snapped at his abrupt departure.

“Cordy.” Buffy hissed, glaring at the girl before striding out the door behind him.  She got to the edge of the walk, turning in a circle to see which way he had gone.  To her amazement, she didn’t see him any where.  But her enhanced sense of smell picked up the lingering scent of tobacco, and she turned to go in that direction.

“BUFFY!”  She stopped at the sound of her name, swiveling to face Giles.

“I don’t think it’s wise go after him.  We don’t know if he will still try to kill you or not.”

“Did you see the look on his face?”  He nodded, a grim smile settling on his features.

“He has a lot to think about right now.  Give him a day or two, then we can try to talk to him again.”  Buffy looked in the direction he left, then back at her Watcher.  Nodding her head, she followed him back inside.

~*~*~

Spike stalked through the cemetery, looking for something, anything to pummel.   A little spot of violence would calm him down enough to call Travers. *Guess I won’t be going back to the mansion tonight, again.* he thought offhandedly.  Dru would probably be tearing the walls down by the next day when he didn’t show up.  He knew she had some fantasy about her, Angel, and him being some sort of ‘family’.  His stomach rolled at the thought.

The sound of a struggle to his left caught his attention.  Flinging his fifth cigarette of the hour away, he took off at a jog.  Their was Buffy and what he guessed was the new Slayer, fighting off a small horde of minions.  Recognizing them as Angels’, he hung back, not planning on interfering unless he had too.

He was a tad annoyed that it was the Slayers.  He was trying to get himself together enough to deal with this.  He realized that he could be working himself up for no reason.  There was a very real possibility that the other two hadn’t kept their souls. But instinct kept telling him that they had.  It wasn’t exactly like he had stopped to ask.  He’d hunted them, fought them, and killed them like the good little puppet he was.

A sharp cry brought his attention back to the fight in front of him.  The Slayers had managed to cut the numbers down from ten to three, but, the dark girl was starting to tire. She had stumbled, and the vampire she was fighting took advantage of her distraction.  Before she knew it, her arms were pinned behind her, the vamp reaching up to yank her head to the side.  While the girl was still struggling, a cloud of dust burst around her.  She landed hard on her butt, glaring up at Buffy.

“You could have warned me.” she groused, her accented voice clipped.

“Fine, next time I’ll let the nasty vampire eat you for a snack.”  The girl on the ground rolled her eyes, but accepted the hand held out to her.  Spike shrank back behind the tree, watching as the two girls walked out of the cemetery, good natured bickering flying between them.

He stared after them until he could no longer hear their voices, then turned in the opposite direction.  He had a phone call to make.

Chapter Five

“Hello?”

“We have a problem.”  Spike growled into the phone.

“And what is that?”  The man on the other end of the line sipped delicately on his brandy, waiting for Spike to continue.

“She has her soul.”  Travers waited a beat before answering.

“And how is that a problem?”  He asked in a cold voice.

“Did you hear me, you ponce?  SHE.  HAS.  HER.  SOUL.”

“I heard you, and I still don’t see what the problem is.”  Spike’s blinked a couple of times, while his mind tried to grasp this knew development.

“Which means she’s not evil.”  He felt like he was talking to a five year old.

“It doesn’t matter.  The threat is still there.  She must be destroyed.”  Travers’ voice never wavered as he spoke.  He could have been ordering tea for all the emotion in his voice.

“What threat?  If she’s not evil, and she has both Slayer and vampire powers, she could be a great asset to the cause.”  Spike tapped an unlit cigarette against his knee, a deep sense of foreboding settling into him.

“May I suggest that you do the job you were sent there to do, and let those better suited worry about the moral implications.” The blonde flinched like he had been slapped.

“Bastard.”  He hissed.

“Might I remind you, William, that you also retained your soul, and you spent half a century doing the very things we are fighting against.  The threat that she will do the same is to great.”  Spike felt the well placed barb pierce his heart, and guilt blossomed through him.  “Now, I trust that we understand each other, and don’t call me again until you have completed your task.”  The next thing he heard was the click of disconnect and the steady hum of the dial tone.  He replaced the receiver as if on auto pilot, his eyes staring blankly at the wall.

They still wanted him to kill her.  That thought bounced around and echoed in his stunned mind until he was sure he would go crazy with it.  Everything he had been taught, everything THEY had led him to believe, were lies.  HE was nothing more than a hired killer, created to destroy what they perceived as a threat.  But what threat, is what Spike couldn’t figure out.  To the world, or to the Council?  Gods, he needed a bloody drink.

Pushing himself off the bed, he pulled on his duster, tucking the unlit cigarette behind his ear.  Pulling open the door of the hotel room, he stalked out into the day.

~*~*~

Buffy’s footsteps echoed hollowly throughout the wet interior of the sewer tunnel.  She was sure that Giles and her mother would be having a coronary once they discovered she had left, but she just couldn’t sit still.  Every time she tried to close her eyes, Spike’s stricken face danced behind her eyelids.  It had been three days since they had seen the blonde, and she wanted to see him.  Her mind kept telling her that it was because she had to know if he was still out for her blood.  But, the tiny voice of truth told her it was because she had seen a kindred spirit within the vamp/man.   Both their worlds had been totally turned upside down in the past week or so, and maybe they could help each other.

Her nerves were raw from worry.  About her friends, her mother, Angel.  Fresh tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision as she tried to blink them back.  Would it ever stop hurting to think of him?  She knew, that her Angel was gone, and it his place was the sadistic master vampire he had been before.  Guilt suffused her system at that, the knowledge that it was her fault weighing heavy on her heart.

She was also afraid.  He had been awful quiet over the past few days, and she was sure that he was planning something.  He wouldn’t give up on getting her back, and she shuddered to think what he would do to her once he did.

Sighing heavily, she pushed herself up through the sewer access under Willie’s bar.  Maybe the snitch knew what Angel was up to.  Or maybe how to find Spike.

~*~*~

What Buffy couldn’t know, was that Angel had been too busy dealing with Druscilla to even think about her.  The vampiress had been wailing for five days.  Exactly the amount of time it had been since Spike left the mansion.  Angel couldn’t say he cared where he was, but Dru was slowly driving him as mad as she was.

Right now she was lucid, her pale, naked body spread across the red, satin covered bed.  Her hair was covering her delicate features as she traced odd patterns on the sheets.

“I want him back, my Angel.  So we can be together again.” Her crystal eyes raised to his, for once wiped clean of madness.  IT was in moments like these that Angel actually got nervous around her.  She was dangerous, he had made her to be.  He remembered vividly WHY he had made Spike in the first place.  To be a distraction for Druscilla.  He could only handle her part of the time, but Spike. . .Spike had the magic touch when it came to her.  Maybe he would find out where he had been hiding himself and bring him home for Dru.  That way, he could concentrate on getting the Slayer back, and punishing her for her disobedience.  A pleasant tingling started in is groin as he thought of all the things he would do to the little blond girl.

With a feral grin, he walked to the bed, pinning Dru beneath him.

“Don’t worry, Dru.  We’ll find him.”  She cooed in pleasure, her hips thrusting to match his violent movements.  Clawed fingers gouged into flesh, blood staining the red sheets darker as they bit, clawed and fucked each other to orgasm.

~*~*~

Buffy paused and studied the line of the blondes back, not wanting to approach just yet.  He was sitting at the bar, building an intricate tower of shot glasses.  A bottle of tequila sat by his elbow, a cigarette smoldered in the ashtray. She exchange a glance with Willy before starting to slowly walk over.

“What can I get for you Slayer?” Willy asked, wiping out a glass with a towel.  He was more than happy to serve her during the day, when none of his usual clientele was in.

“Nothing, Willy.”  She answered, sliding into the stool next to Spike.  She studied his profile, while she waited for him to acknowledge her.  Seconds ticked into minutes as she watched him pour another shot, down it, then add the glass to the tower.  She was amazed that his hand was still steady after counting the number of glasses he already had stacked.

She was so intent on watching him, that she nearly didn’t hear him when he spoke.

“Have you ever believed in something so completely, and in the course of twenty four hours, have it turned on it arse?” he asked her, not looking at her.  An ironic smile tugged at her mouth.

“Yeah.  The day I was called.”  He snorted in response, nodding his head slightly.  Then he turned to her, the look in his blue eyes intense.

“What can I do for you, luv?”  She was struck immediately by how haunted he looked. His hair was mussed, she assumed from the agitated passing of his hands through it.  He looked like he hadn’t slept since he’d disappeared through Giles’ door.  The ashtray was overflowing with cigarettes.  And the tequila bottle was nearly empty.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay.”  The look that crossed his face would have made her laugh, if it weren’t for the implications behind it.  It struck her, then, that nobody had ever cared how he was doing.

“Why should you care?  I was sent here to kill you.”  He asked her, his scarred eyebrow raised.

“Under false pretenses.”

“Yeah.  Seem that’s all my life is about.  False bloody pretenses.”  Pulling the pour spout off the bottle, he drained it.  Buffy cringed as she watched the amber liquid disappear down his throat, and got totally grossed out when he chomped the worm.

“You, know, drinking like that is going to kill you.” she said, her eyes telling Willy under no circumstances was he to put another bottle on the bar.  Spike snorted and lit another cigarette.

“Can’t.”  He said, releasing a plume of smoke from his lungs.

“Can’t what?”

“Die.”  Her eyes widened a fraction, disbelief written clearly across her face.  He let out a bitter chuckle at her expression.  “Part of the mojo they worked on me, luv.”  He looked away from her, and stared at the silver lighter he was sliding through his fingers.  He raised his cigarette again, blowing out smoke rings.  “They still want me to kill you.”  He told her quietly, keeping his eyes on the lighter.

“Willy!  I need a drink.”  She called, her gaze never leaving the blondes profile.  A smirk touched Spike’s lips.  He knew the feeling.  They sat in silence as Willy set another bottle of tequila down in front of them.   Buffy didn’t even think as she poured a shot, than downed it, immediately choking as the foul stuff slipped down her throat.

“People actually LIKE this stuff?!” she gasped around her coughs.  He gave her a genuine smile, thinking she looked awfully cute in that moment.  Her face was scrunched up in disgust, and her eyes were watering, but he thought she was lovely.

“It gets the job done.” he told her.  She gave him a look that said, ‘uh-huh.’  But she poured herself another shot.  This one went back a bit smoother, now that she knew what to expect.

“Are you going to?”  She asked him, adding her shot glass to the tower.

“No.  I’m going to sit here and get good and snookered.  Then, I’m going to go back to my motel room and pass out.”

“What about after that?”  He turned back to her, his eyes squinted against the smoke.

“You weren’t the only one I was sent here for.”  Her brows drew together in confusion.  Then, her mouth gaped open in shock as she realized what he was saying.

“Angel.” she whispered, feeling her heart twist again.

“Angelus.” he corrected.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel a bout that.” she raised a shaking hand to her forehead, blinking back more tears.

“I don’t either.”  This whole soddin affair was making his head spin.  When he had blown into town, his mission was clear.  Take out the turned Slayer and the newly unsouled Angel.  He hadn’t counted on Dru being here, or Buffy still having her soul.  Or Buffy being so bloody beautiful.  He didn’t know what he was going to do.  The Council didn’t like it when their puppets started to think on their own.  He’d seen them do many things over the years to keep the Slayers in line.  But he had turned a blind eye and kept on with his part of the deal.  He was such a fool.

He knew, technically, they couldn’t kill him.  He shuddered to think at what they COULD do.  Just cause he couldn’t die, didn’t mean he was immune to torture.  Or mind games, as his time with Dru could attest.

Shaking off the thoughts, he turned back to her.  He studied the fading bruises and cuts, and tsked in disgust.

“What?” she asked, pouring another shot.  She was thinking his idea of getting trashed was a good one.

“He didn’t make it fun, did he?” He waved a hand at her face.

“They.” she whispered.

“What’s that?”

“They.”  She downed the shot, only grimacing a bit this time.  “Angel and some loon named Druscilla.”

“Dru did that to you?” he didn’t know why it surprised him.  He knew what she was capable of.

“Yep.” she titled the bottle yet again, this time pouring him one as well.

“What are you doing?”  He asked, when she set the shot in front of him.

“We’re getting snookered.”  His eyebrow shot up as he watched her toss it back with no problems.  She looked over at him, her eyes reflecting the pain and confusion he knew was mirrored in his own.  Nodding once, slammed his down, taking the bottle from her to set them up again.

“Willy, keep it coming.” He called, as they clinked glasses, then proceeded to drink themselves into oblivion.

~*~*~

A tortured moan escaped Buffy as she slowly came awake.  Her head felt as if it would explode at any moment, and her tongue felt fuzzy and too big for her mouth.  Groaning, she shifted a bit, freezing when she felt the unmistakable presence of something hard and male between her legs.  With a concentrated effort, she forced one eye open, whimpering at the light.  Turning her head as slowly as she could, she looked down at the peacefully sleeping blonde below her.  It would seem that she was sprawled, naked she realized, on top of Spike.  Too sick to be embarrassed, she simply closed her eyes and listened to the faint, but steady heartbeat emanating from his chest.  It took a minute for her surprise at this to pierce her hazy mind, but once it did, she sat up with a start.  A yelp of pain and shock jolted him awake, and they both noticed just how intimately they were joined.

“Pet?” he started, settling a hand on her hip to steady her.

“Yeah?” she winced as her head throbbed again.  She gasped when she felt an answering throb in her sex. When he was asleep it was easy not to be embarrassed.  But now, with his hot blue eyes piercing hers, she was sure if she still had the ability, she would be crimson.

“How did we. . ?”  He waved a hand between them, indicating there position.  She bit her lip and averted her gaze.

“I don’t know.”  She answered, her voice small.  How much of a loser was she?  She’d just had sex for the second time in her life, and she couldn’t even remember it.

“Well,” he started, then stopped.  He, for once, had no idea what to say.  It wasn’t every day he woke up with a beautiful woman, and then didn’t remember a bloody thing about it.  He must have been slipping in his old age.  “Uhm, luv?  Could you. . .I have to go.”  He pointed towards the bathroom.  If possible, her eyes got even wider, and she scrambled off his body.  They both groaned as he slipped out of her, the feeling of loss immeasurable.  With a wry grin, he stood and strode the bathroom, comfortable in his nudity.  Buffy was glad once again that she couldn’t blush when she caught herself sneaking a look at his lean, chiseled form.

As soon as the door closed, she shot off the bed and started searching for her clothes.  She shoved her legs into her jeans, while trying to get her head through the neck of her t-shirt. She was just shoving her arm in when she heard him return to the room.  She whipped around to face him, nearly losing her balance in the process.  He was leaning on the frame, an amused smile curving his lips.

“Not rushing off, are you, luv?”  He straightened and walked over to her, helping her pull the shirt into place.  Then he reached down to grab his jeans and slide them on.

“I. . Uh.  Look, I just wanted you to know, I’m not some sort of, you know. ..” she stumbled over her words, refusing to look him in the eye.  He stopped her by placing a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to his.

“I know.”  Was all he said, before dropping a kiss to her forehead.  She blinked at him, thoroughly astounded at his action.  He chuckled a bit before moving to pick his duster off the floor in search of his cigarettes.  “I’m just sorry I don’t remember.” he told her.  The look he gave her made her knees melt and she found herself wishing desperately for any snippet of memory herself.  When she realized she was staring at him, she shifted her eyes away.  When they fell on the clock panic broke through her embarrassment and residual desire like ice water.

“SHIT!”

“What?”

“My mom is soo going to ground me.” she grabbed the phone and frantically started to dial.  She had been incommunicado for fifteen hours.

“Hello?” her mom’s strained voice said over the phone.

“Hi, mom.”  Buffy tried for a happy tone, only to lose it as soon as her mother spoke again.

“Elizabeth Anne Summers.  Where the hell are you?” She demanded.  Buffy’s heart sank and her headache screamed through her.  Her mother NEVER used Elizabeth.  Unless she was really, really pissed.

“I’m with Spike.” she said, holding the phone away from her ear a fraction as her mother yelled in response.

“What?!  Why?  And doesn’t he have a phone?  Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?  Angel left a little calling card for you, and when you didn’t come home or call. . .”

“Mom, mom.  MOM!”  Buffy cut through her mothers’ tirade.  “What did Angel leave?”

“A box, I thought it was flowers, so I opened it to put them in water.”  She heard the slight edge of trepidation slip into her mothers’ voice.  “And it wasn’t flowers.”

“What was it, mom?”

“A heart.”  Buffy closed her eyes, clamping down hard on the anger and fear that was trying to run rampant through her.

“I’m sorry mom.  I won’t let this happen again without calling.”  Spike watched her from his place at the table, quietly smoking. *Again?* he thought with a smirk

“Do you want me to come get you?  And what about Spike?  He isn’t trying to kill you is he?”

“No, he’s not.  And no, don’t come.  The suns out.  I’ll be home right after sunset.  Okay?”

“Alright. We will talk when you get home.  Don’t think that just because you’re a vampire, I don’t have any say in what you do anymore.”

“You’re right mom.  I’m sorry.”  She talked to her mother for a minute more, rattling off the phone number in case they needed to get hold of her.  She sat staring at the phone after she hung up, afraid to meet his eyes.  And here she was stuck in the room with him all day.

“Angel leave a little present for you, pet?”

“Yeah.”  She glanced at him then, a little puzzled by his look of sympathy.

“He’s a right old bastard, isn’t he?”  She nodded in response, sadness flooding her features.  Spike sighed as he crushed out his cigarette.  He found himself wanting to erase that look from her face.  “Well, luv.  Since you seem to be my guest for the day, what should we do?”  He smiled at her flustered expression.

“Uh, well, uh.”  She stuttered.

“You hungry?”  She was surprised to find that she was.  Nodding, she offered him a shy smile.

“Yeah.”  Standing, he walked to the phone and picked it up.

“How does pizza with a side of blood sound?”

“Really disgusting.”  She couldn’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face.  He was trying to put her at ease after the compromising position they woke up in, and she found herself liking him immensely for it.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, sweetheart.”

“Oh, what the hell.”  She threw her hands up and flopped back on the bed, cursing inwardly when the world tilted.  “Could you add an order of aspirin to the list.” she whimpered.

“Will do.”  He made the necessary calls to order their meal, adding a six pack of beer and a bottle of soda to the list.

“They deliver blood?”

“They’ll deliver whatever you want as long as you got the cash.”  He told her, reaching for his duster again.

“I suppose.”

“Now, why don’t you go hop in the shower, then we’ll get to know each other a bit better.”  She squeaked at the underlying innuendo.

“I meant we’ll talk , luv.  I promise, I won’t make any improper moves.”  She smiled gratefully and got up o go to the bathroom.  “Unless you want me to.” he added, chuckling when she closed the door with a bit more force than was needed.  It was going to make for an interesting day, at least.

Chapter Six

Buffy emerged from the bathroom a half hour later, rubbing a towel over her still damp hair.  She had decided, while she washed her tired and sore body, just to act like nothing had happened.  She couldn’t remember it, and HE couldn’t remember it, so what was the point of acting all awkward?  Of course, it didn’t help that her overactive imagination kept conjuring images of what could have happened.  And it certainly didn’t help that the first thought that passed through her mind when she had seen him in all his glory was ‘yum.’ *This is getting you nowhere, Buff.  Just go out there and act like the calm, cool, collected Slayer that you wish you were and get over it.*

He was standing by the table, silently inspecting the pizza while sipping from a Styrofoam cup.  He turned toward her when he heard the door and smiled.  Picking up the other cup, he crossed to her and held it out.

“Here ya go, luv.  Drink that and then come eat some pizza.”  She dropped the towel on the bed then took the proffered cup from him, turning slightly away.  Once she wasn’t facing him, she pulled off the lid and downed the contents as quickly as she could.  Wiping her mouth, and cringing inwardly, she faced him once again, to find him regarding her with an interested look.

“What?” she asked self consciously.  She usually didn’t like to feed in front of people.  It made what she had turned into seem to real.  If she didn’t think about it, she could forget about it.  But, two things kept thrusting it glaringly back into her face.  Her need for blood, and the fact that she would never get a sun tan again.

“I used to feel the same way.” He answered quietly, taking the cup from her hand.  A thousand questions ran through her mind as she met his eyes.  There was so much about how him that she wanted to know, but she didn’t know if she had the right to ask.

“I thought vampires couldn’t consume garlic?” she moved around him to the table, breathing in the delicious aroma of sauce, bread and cheese.

“Who told you that rot?”  She just shrugged a shoulder, grabbing a soda.

“Thought it was just known.”  He made a face and grabbed a slice, taking a huge bite.

“Not a thing to worry about, pet.  That’s just an old wives tale.”  He told her, taking a long pull off his beer.  “So, what do you want to know?  I can see all the questions dancing around in your head.” He said, settling on the bed.  She hadn’t realized she was being so transparent.

“You don’t mind?”

“You’re stuck here for the day, and I’m not really good at small talk, so, ask away.”

“Why do you have a heartbeat?” she asked quickly, afraid he might change his mind.  She sat cross legged on the bed in front of him.

“You can hear it?” he seemed surprised.  He looked down at the necklace he was wearing, drawing her attention to it for the first time.  It was a medallion, no bigger than a half dollar with, what looked like to Buffy, a bunch of squiggly lines on it.

“Am I not supposed to?”  She looked at him quizzically.

“No.  It’s kinda hard to stay alive in the Big Bad if your ticker is tocking, if you know what I mean.”  He told her.  “Can you hear it now?”  She stopped a second to listen, realizing she couldn’t.

“Nuh, uh.  Why?  And how do you have one?”

“I wasn’t turned to conventional way, pet.  I didn’t die.  They injected the Masters’ blood into my system and forced my body to accept it.  So, the heart didn’t stop.  I’m not a reanimated corpse.” she shuddered a bit at his term, not liking that SHE was exactly that. Spike noticed her dismay and offered her an apologetic smile.  “As for the why,” he tapped the medallion laying against his pale chest.  “This little trinket is supposed to mask the beat and my body temperature.”

“You’re warm?”

“If I take this off, yeah.”  She looked at him with wonder in her eyes.

“So, you ARE human?”

“And vamp.”  To prove his point, his game face surged forward.  She shrank back a bit, but she wasn’t really afraid.

“But you can go out during the day?”

“Yeah.  I have to do everything that any normal bloke has to, but, I have to drink blood.  Violence is part of my nature.  I have a nasty temper, and I never get sick.”

“Doesn’t sound to bad.”  She said, sipping at her soda.  She noticed his eyes grow distant as if thinking of a different time.

“It can be.” he answered.  He shook off the melancholy feeling and looked at her.  “What else?”  She smiled at him, glad he was willing to talk.

“How did they fool Angel into thinking he had sired you?”  He chuckled at that, letting his mind drift back to that time.

“Well, that was an interesting bit.   Seein’ as how it was his blood they stuck in me.”

“WHAT?!  How did they do that?”  She was shocked.

“They nabbed him.  Bled him a time or two, then released him.”

“Uhm, wasn’t he the Scourge of Europe?”  He gave her a ‘DUH’ expression.  “Then, why let him go?”

“Because, in order for the ruse to work, they needed the vampire that donated the blood.  If I’d just gone round acting like some Big Bad without being introduced by my sire, no self respecting Master vampire would take me at face value.  I needed to be apart of his fold.”

“How would they know?”

“The nose knows, luv.  I could tell you who your sire was the second I was within fifty yards of you.  That, and the blood bonds.”

“I don’t understand.  What blood bond?”

“You see, Angels’ blood runs through you, and me.  Since you were created to be a childe, and not a minion, you were given more of his blood after you woke, right?”

“Yeah.” she shuddered at the memory.

“I feel a connection with you that I don’t feel with any other vampires because we share his blood.  Same with Druscilla.  You will always be able to tell when one of us is near.”  She stopped and thought a bout it for a minute.  He was right, she realized.  The night she had drugged him, she had known that Angel was outside.  And she had felt him leave.  The feeling had come back when Spike had come to the door.

“Wonderful.”  She muttered miserably.  Just what she wanted, to be linked for eternity to Angel and Queen Looney Tune.  Could her life get any weirder?  “So, how’d they get a round the whole, being bitten then rising from the grave thing?”

“Well, the way it was told to me, the same blokes that fused Angels’ and my blood together worked some spell to implant the memory into his, Dru’s and Darla’s head.  Made me some poncy poet that got rejected by some bint, and had the misfortune of meeting up with Angelus.” He stopped a moment to snicker at that.

“Who were you really, then.”  She asked him, finding that she really wanted to know.  What kind of man would willingly give up a part of himself to walk among vampires?  He looked at her, his blue eyes unreadable as he considered her question.  She felt herself growing uncomfortable under his stare.  It seemed he could see right through her with those eyes.

“I wasn’t a love struck poet, I assure you.” He started, reaching for his cigarettes.  He lit one, breathing the smoke in deep.  “I was just a man.  My father had been a Watcher, so, it was natural that I would become one too.  I mean, how can you just stand by and do nothing once you’ve learned that the boogie man was real?”  He paused to take a drink of blood, followed by a swallow of beer.  Buffy rose off the bed to grab a piece of pizza, before he continued.  She nibbled on the slice, noticing that it didn’t taste the same.  She couldn’t quite place why, but the flavor almost seemed muted.

“So, you were all set up for your life in tweed?”  He snorted, grateful that he had saved himself from that fate.

“Yeah. But it wasn’t all sunshine and roses.  I was more interested in the fightin’ than the watchin’.  I was also to curious for my own good, wanted to know the ‘whys’ and ‘what fors.’  Didn’t understand how one girl was supposed to keep all the evil in the world in check.”  Buffy mumbled her agreement around a mouthful of pizza.  “Then, one day, I get my chance to fight in the war, instead of sitting on the sidelines.  So, I took it.”  He swallowed the last of his beer, and crushed out the cigarette.  “Didn’t really understand what it meant at the time.  And, I lost my way for a bit, after I hooked up with Angelus and Druscilla.”  He noticed her shudder at the mention of her name.

“How?”  She polished off the crust, then drank the last of her soda.  Tossing the can in the trash, she turned her wide, questioning eyes onto him.  He loved her eyes, and how expressive they were.  He could tell from one instant to the next exactly what she was feeling.  Now, he saw curiosity, a touch of fear, and just the faintest hint of trust.  It stunned him to realize that he didn’t want to do anything that would put that trust into jeopardy.  He had been a loner for so long, he had all but forgotten what it was like to have someone to talk to.  Granted, his isolation was self imposed, but he felt it was the least he could do after his fuck up.  He’d only sought out company when he needed to scratch an itch, usually bolstered by a cloud of alcohol.  But those interludes had left him strangely unsatisfied, and he hadn’t looked for it very often.

“It’s not pretty, pet.  Sure you want to hear it?” *No* her mind screamed.  He didn’t look like he wanted to tell her, anymore than she wanted to hear it.  Maybe this was too much too soon, and she decided to let him off the hook.  He watched the play of emotion cross her face and found himself smiling sadly.  He could tell she knew it was bad, but didn’t want to test the boundaries of this new found. . .friendship.

“No.  I don’t need to know.  It’s the past, right?”  She let out a self conscious giggle, and plucked aimlessly at the comforter.  He leaned forward then, his fingers brushing across her knee.  Her eyes shot to his when the light touch sent a bolt of electricity coursing through her.

“I wasn’t myself then, luv.  They had warned me of the risks, that I could turn into what I was supposed to fight.  I was arrogant.  Thought it couldn’t happen to me.  But it did.  And I’ve paid for it every date for the last eighty years of my life.” His gaze burned into hers, begging for the forgiveness that he didn’t feel he deserved.  Without thinking, she raised her hand to his face and cupped his cheek, gasping when he closed his eyes and turned to place a kiss in the palm of her hand.  Little darts of fire traced up her arm.  When he opened them a gain, his eyes were burning for a different reason.

“Like I said, it’s the past.  Everything that happened then, made you who you are today.  And I like who you are.” *Wow, Buff.  Where did the new found maturity come from?* She asked herself.  Her voice was husky, and she was very aware of the heat in the atmosphere around them.  And when his lips touched hers, she felt it practically sizzle.  Her hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck, her fingers playing with the soft ends of his hair.   His mouth played softly across her, his teethe gently nipping at her bottom lip.  She tasted so sweet, so innocent, and he felt his body respond instantly.

His tongue darted out to tease the opening of her lips, groaning inwardly when she parted them on a sigh.  The kiss changed then, from soft and restrained, to hungry and demanding.  She whimpered as his tongue tangled with hers.  He tasted like tobacco and beer, with a trace of blood, and something so wildly male it made her dizzy.  It was amazing how a kiss could start this raging inferno blazing within her, sending sparks of arousal straight to every nerve in her body.  She felt her panties grow damp, and her breasts peak, and he hadn’t touched her other than the kiss.  She found herself pressing closer to him, needing something but knowing what or how to ask.  Surprisingly to her, he seemed to know.  Her moan was swallowed by his plundering mouth when he reached up to cup her breast through her t-shirt, his thumb brushing across the swollen nub.

She arched into his hand, pulling her mouth away from his.  He took the opportunity to sweep kisses across her jaw, down to her throat.  She jumped a little when she felt a fang scrape a throat, but not from fear.  When she felt the soft rasp of his tongue across the shallow gash he had made, she practically leapt into his lap, straddling him.  His arm banded around her waist, holding her close, as his mouth and hand continued their ministrations on her.  She didn’t take the time to think that Angel had never made her feel this.  With his hand sliding under her shirt to take possession of the soft mound of her breast, and his thumb and forefinger pinching and teasing the nipple, their was no room for thought.  There was only room for him.  He had completely taken over her senses from the first brush of his lips across hers.

He pulled back from her for long enough to pull her shirt over her head.  He took a moment to memorize the shape and swell of the dual mounds, each topped by a erect pink nipple.  Looking up to her eyes, he searched for any sign of hesitation from her.  When all he saw was her answering desire, he dipped his head to capture one hard nubbin in his mouth.  Her fingers fisted in his hair, pressing hm against her cool flesh, a sob ripping from her throat.  When she arched back to give him better access, she unconsciously pushed herself against his erection.  Instinctively, her hips began to shift, begging for friction.  Before she knew it, she was on her back, with Spike nestled securely between her legs.  His mouth had never left her breast, and his left hand had unsnapped the top of her jeans.  As he switched his attention to the other mound of flesh, his hand snaked down her pants to tease the curls at the apex of her thighs.

Her head thrashed on the bed, her hips surging up to urge him on.  He allowed on finger to slide along the wet slit, gently running over the tight bundle of nerves.

“Oh, God." she gasped, nearly jumping off the bed.  He raised his head to smile at her, dipping a finger into her hole.  Her teeth ground into her lip, her body knowing what she wanted, even if she didn’t She thrust against his hand, groaning once more as he slipped another finger inside her.

“You’re so tight, luv.  SO bloody tight.  And you smell so sweet.” he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against her stomach.  “Cor, I have to taste you.” Before she could grasp what he meant, he slipped his hand away, making her hiss with disappointment.  Next, she felt her jeans slipping down her hips, followed closely by her panties.  A protest was forming on her lips, the instant before she felt his tongue penetrate her folds.  Her hands once again found their way to his hair, as he lapped eagerly at the juices pulled there.  His hands slid under her undulating ass, lifting her so he could access her quivering mound with more ease.  Her knees were flung wide on the bed, allowing him to feast at his leisure.  Heat suffused her while his tongue explored every dip and crevice of her sex,  plunging every so often inside.  Animalistic cries surrounded them as she felt the ball of tension begin to uncoil in her stomach.

Once his talented mouth closed around her engorged clit, gently sucking, the world exploded around her.  With a harsh cry of his name she arched fully off the bed, riding the exquisite waves as they coursed over her.  He continued to lick and suck at her trembling nether lips, drinking in the nectar that spilled from her.  He didn’t stop until her hands fell limply to the bed, and she collapsed into a bundle of quaking nerve endings.

It was then that he released her, crawling back onto the bed to pull her into his embrace.  Her sleepy eyes met his, a mix of contentment and confusion in their depths.

“What about you?” she asked in a shy voice.  He smiled down at her tenderly, the taste of her blood and her spendings lingering sweetly on his tongue.

“I’m alright, luv.  Take a little nap, there’s plenty of time left to the day.” he whispered, dropping a kiss to her forehead.  She stared at him for a second more, before snuggling comfortably in his arms.  With a sigh of unneeded air, she slipped into a dreamless sleep.