A/N: This is a fic I wrote years ago. It's one of the ones that was deleted when fanfiction net decided to erase my account without warning. So if it seems familiar, that is why. I just now realized that I never reposted it. I've polished it up and added a slight bit, but you should know that the ending is intentionally vague. I figured I'd let you, the readers, decide in your own minds what happens afterwards. This has always been a one-shot and is most likely going to stay that way. I hope you enjoy!
Spike grinned as he walked into his crypt. Faint cuts and bruises still marred his features despite the several days of rest he had taken to recover, but he didn't care. He would go through a hundred such trials if it meant such glorious results. His chip was gone, and that was all that mattered.
He was greeted at the door by his floppy-skinned house sitter, Clem. "Welcome back, Spike," he said cheerily. "How was your trip?"
"Couldn't 'ave been better, mate. I feel like a new man."
"That's great!" the demon whispered.
"Hey, what's with the hush hush? 'Fraid you'll wake the dead?" Spike smirked.
"No, no. I'm just afraid I'll wake her," he said, pointing at the sleeping figure of Dawn on the bed. "Slayer came by here for you. She didn't give me the details, but it seems like something big is going down and she was looking for a safe place to keep her kid sis until the dust settles. I've been watching her while you were gone."
"Thanks, mate. I think I can take it from here," Spike said, patting Clem on the shoulder.
"Sure. Anytime, Spike. And if you ever want to like, hang out or something, let me know." Spike didn't respond, but he looked meaningfully at the door. "Um, yeah...well, I guess I'll see you later!" he said awkwardly, waving as he left.
Spike closed the door behind him and turned towards his bed with a glint in his eye. "My, my, my...what have we here?" he purred, gliding towards his bed like a cat stalking its prey. "Someone's been sleeping in my bed...and she's still here." Leaning over Dawn, he began to stroke her hair, inching his mouth slowly towards her neck.
Dawn opened her eyes blearily. "Spike!" she exclaimed, sitting up and throwing her arms around his neck, "I'm so glad you're here! You don't know how good it is to see you!"
Spike allowed himself to be pulled off balance, falling forward on top of Dawn. He braced his arms on either side of her head and smirked. "You know, from this angle, you're not lookin' so bad yourself."
Dawn gasped, her eyes widening perceptibly before slapping him on the chest and pushing him away from her until they were both sitting side by side. "Spike, this is no time to be goofing around. You've been away, so you might not have heard, but some really crazy things have happened while you were gone."
"Yeah, I always figured it'd 'ave to be a cold day in Tartarus for your sister to trust me with...well...anything. She must really be stuck between a rock and the proverbial hard place."
Dawn took a deep breath. "You don't know the half of it. It was horrible. Do you remember that Warren guy...you know, the one you had build you a sexbot that looked like Buffy...?"
"Hey!" Spike growled. "I'll have you know, I get my jollies straight from the source now-a-days. None of that cheap, imitation crap for this vampire."
"Spike! That doesn't matter!" Dawn yelled. "What matters is this Warren guy is crazy. He thinks he's some sort of super-villain, and when none of his plans to kill Buffy worked, he came after her with a gun. He shot her and one of the stray bullets hit Tara too," Dawn said, her voice reaching a frantic pitch.
"You mean the Slayer is dead... again?" Spike asked, not looking nearly as upset as Dawn would have expected.
"No, Buffy isn't dead, but Tara...Tara didn't make it," Dawn said softly, a tear sliding down her cheek. "Willow kind of flipped. She used her magic to heal Buffy, but when she couldn't save Tara, she didn't fall off the no-magic-using wagon...she blew it to pieces."
"So, the Wicca's on the warpath," Spike said.
Dawn stood up and began pacing back and forth. "I'm really scared, Spike. It's like I don't even know her any more. She's gone to kill Warren, and I don't know if Buffy can stop her. Buffy and she might end up killing each other, and I just don't know what to do. I feel like my whole world is being turned upside down."
Spike walked over to Dawn and grabbed her by the shoulders. "I hate to rock the boat when it's already capsized, pet, but Willow's not the only one who's turned over a new leaf."
Dawn eyed him inquisitively as he continued. "I've given up my occupation as the Slayer's lapdog. But if it's comfort you're looking for," he said with a husky voice, lowering his hands to her waist and running them up her body, "then I might be of some assistance."
Dawn stepped back with a sharp intake of breath. Spike continued to inch his way towards her until her back was pressed firmly against the rough stone wall of the crypt. Spike pressed his body into hers, and he could feel her body temperature rise as her skin began to flush.
"I remember how you used to look at me," he whispered in her ear, rubbing his cheek against hers before leaning down to let his lips brush her neck. "I could practically feel the jealously rolling off you in waves when you found out it was the elder of the Summers' sisters I was after. Passion like that doesn't just disappear," Spike said fiercely, looking deeply into her eyes.
"This isn't right, Spike. You...you just want me because you can't have Buffy," Dawn said spitefully. "You'd do anything to hurt her now, wouldn't you?"
"Nibblet, you seem to forget. I've already had Buffy. That's old news. She got tired of me, but you...you've never stopped wanting me, have you? You look at me and tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop," he said, the lies rolling off his tongue as if he meant every word. "You can't do it, can you?"
Dawn looked up defiantly, opening her mouth to respond, but she could not make the words form. Everything in her world was falling apart, and suddenly something from her wildest fantasies was dropped right into her lap. She couldn't possibly turn down this opportunity, no matter how wrong it was. Especially since, if things went bad with Willow, Spike might be the only one she had left. Finally, she looked away in defeat, her hair falling across her face. Spike tilted her chin towards him and kissed her softly. A soft whimper came from the back of her throat before she shyly pulled away.
"Why? Why are you doing this, Spike?" Dawn asked, her voice tremulous.
"Because I can, pet. Because I can."
Dawn gave a slight nod, oddly satisfied with that answer over any mushy proclamations of love. That was all that Spike needed. He attacked her fiercely, lavishing kisses on her as he picked her up off the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he let her support herself for a moment as he tore the shirt from her body, revealing a deep burgundy, satin bra.
"A blood-colored bra. How...appropriate," Spike chuckled, nipping at her breasts.
"There...there will be no blood-letting tonight," Dawn panted, slightly overwhelmed by the new intimacy with Spike and the onslaught of new sensations it brought on.
Spike slammed her against the wall, his eyes glowing. "By the end of the night, pet, you'll be begging me for it."
Spike began to unfasten the zipper to his pants, when he paused for a moment. "Wall or bed?" he growled at her.
"Wh...what?" Dawn asked, the question making no sense to her lust-addled mind.
"Do you want your first time to be against the wall or on the bed?" Spike grinned.
"How did you know?" Dawn squeaked.
"Know what?" Spike asked impatiently, his hands roaming all over her body.
"That I'm a virgin," Dawn said quietly.
Spike laughed throatily. "I meant the first time tonight, pet, but this is an added bonus. It's been a long time since I've plucked me a virgin. Bed it is then."
Spike carried her over to the bed, making quick work of the rest of their clothes. He pinned Dawn's arms above her head, barely taking time to test her readiness before thrusting into her violently.
"Spike, you're hurting me!" Dawn cried, wincing at the sudden invasion to her body.
"I know...ain't it grand?" Spike grinned.
"But how? The chip..."
"Is gone."
Dawn began to flail wildly, wriggling and squirming to get away. Spike moaned, her thrashing causing a pleasant friction at his groin. He pressed down on her firmly, stopping her from moving any more. "You keep that up, luv, and we're gonna be finished before we even get started. How's it feel? Knowing that your puppy is suddenly the Big Bad Wolf again?"
"I...I want you to stop," Dawn pleaded.
Spike ignored Dawn's plea, continuing, but with a less forceful approach to the situation. He transferred both of her arms to one hand and used his other to gently explore her body. Using feather-light touches, he skimmed every inch of exposed skin, lazily exploring her breasts and occasionally letting his fingers graze the pleasure point between her legs. He could literally feel the tension and fear drain out of her as her body began to arch into his touch. Once he was certain she would not fight back, he began to rock his hips and thrust into her once more. Gradually, he began to pick up the pace, and soon, she was thrashing for an entirely different reason.
"I'll ask again, pet...how does it feel?"
"It...it feels good," Dawn moaned, unable to hide her body's response to Spike's practiced ministrations. She felt as though she were on the brink of something wonderful, and she tried to push herself against Spike's body, attempting to get enough friction to gain the release she so desperately craved.
When Spike felt she was close enough, he abruptly ceased his advances, causing Dawn to cry out in protest.
"I thought you wanted me to stop," Spike said with mock innocence.
"Please..." she begged, not caring for the moment that she was putting herself in grave danger. "I...I've changed my mind."
Spike released her arms, and he felt her claw at his back, trying to pull him back into her. He nuzzled her neck, letting his fangs scratch her skin. "You know there is a price to be paid," he whispered.
Dawn looked him in the eyes and nodded slightly before tilting her head to the side, offering herself to him.
"Tsk, tsk, pet. Don't think for a second I've forgotten our little discussion earlier."
"Please, Spike. Please feed from me..." Dawn plead.
"See, I told you you'd beg," Spike chuckled, as he began to thrust into her again. At the moment of her release, he sank his fangs into her throat, drinking deeply. The taste was overwhelming, like a Slayer but even more powerful. The blood triggered in him a primal response, causing his own release, but even that was not enough to quench his desire. He drank and drank until Dawn's sighs of pleasure turned into frightened whimpers. Feebly, she struck at his back, making a weak attempt to stop him before he drained her dry. Spike could feel her nearing death and with a monumental effort, he pulled himself away from his fount of blood.
"Spike...," Dawn whispered weakly. She reached up and stroked his face, frowning slightly at the blood that came away on her hand. "Is someone bleeding?" she asked, her mind confused from the lack of blood.
"Dawn," he said, gently stroking her hair, "I'm afraid I took a bit too much..."
"Oh," she murmured, nuzzling her head into his hand, uncaring of her life slipping away.
"Dawn, you have to listen to me," Spike said firmly, shaking her gently to gain her attention. "Your list of options is rather short. You will die without my intervention...which would be a colossal shame...or...or you could choose to spend eternity with me," he said in a passion-filled voice. "The choice should be simple."
For a second, Dawn's mind cleared as she was hit with the full implications of what Spike had done. "Go to hell," she hissed, glaring up at Spike.
Spike smiled coldly, his eyes glowing. "As you wish, pet. As you wish."