A Lovers' Dance

Chapter Twenty One

The sounds of Willy's patrons crawled over Spike's skin, souring his mood to the point where expired milk would seem sweet in comparison to him. Buffy's funeral was today and even though it wasn't real he still felt the inherent grief that came with the granite slab with her name on it. It had been a nighttime affair done for the benefit of a brooding vampire that didn't even bother with showing up. A fact that made Spike's teeth mash together and his eyes flicker gold. Soddin git, can't even bother to make an appearance for the sake of the mourners. Bloody pillock. He swallowed down the anger, putting his focus on Dawn's wet, puppy dog eyes and Joyce's cool mask of acceptance. It's a bloody farce, he sighed keeping an eye out for any fledges looking for an easy meal that could be made out of the mourners. Though Spike half expected that Hank had security teams around the graves, keeping the local riff raff from bothering any of them. Perhaps they staked the great poof on sight and that's why he's not here. He smiled at the thought, feeling through the family bond it wasn't true. He frowned again, He's probably fuckin her right now while they're putting miss doppelganger in the ground. A low growl vibrated from his throat making Willow turn and glare at him as she snuggled closer to Tara.

After giving his condolences to both Dawn and Joyce, Spike was off to Willy's to get smashed. Everyone played their parts well, Spike mused to himself, taking a long swallow from a bottle of Jack. When all else failed, a bottle or two of Jack Daniels could set it to rights again. Until now. Liquor hot and boiling sloshed in the vampire's stomach, fraying his nerves to the point he cracked when three biker vamps started to break into song as they guzzled down booze, celebrating the slayer's death.

"Slish Slosh! The slayer is dead. Which slayer? The vampire layer!" The largest of the three Hell's Angel wannabes brayed, slapping an arm around his friend.

A vampire that was still very much a fledgling, laughed and joined in, "Slish Slosh! The vampire slayer is dead."

The song dripped over Spike's skin like holy water. He got up from his barstool debating about which one to take out first, when Willy got in front of him. "Hey, Spike, my favorite costumer. Whatever you're about to do... don't. I really don't wanna remodel this place again. So sit back, have a drink on the house and let it go. Okay?"

For a second Spike thought about doing just that but then the third fledgling started caterwauling.

"Wake up - sleepy head, rub your eyes, get out of bed.

Wake up, the vampire layer is dead. She's gone where the old whores go,

Below - below - below. Yo-ho, let's open up and sing and ring the bells out.

Slish Slosh' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low."

Chuckling darkly Mr. Hell's Angel sang over him.

"Let them know

The Vampire Layer is dead!"

Spike snapped, pushing passed Willy, heading straight for Mr. Hell's Angel. He slammed him into the bar, making the wooden surface split in half with a sickening crack. Coolly Spike jammed a piece of wood in Mr. Hell's Angel's heart while the other two scattered. The vampire turned to dust right before Spike was tossed out of Willy's by a large fyarl demon. Dusting himself off, Spike made to stumble back to his old crypt when a slow sardonic clap stopped him in his tracks. He whirled around to see a short man in a fedora looking smug as he sized Spike up. "That feel good?" the man asked.

Spike glared, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

The man smiled jovially, "Whistler and you're in the wrong place."

Spike groaned as he slumped against a wall, lighting a cigarette, "Whistler... that name sounds familiar. You work for the bloody Powers, right?"

Whistler nodded, "That I do, William."

"Haven't been William in a while. " Spike puffed out a long ribbon of smoke.

Whistler smirked, "Well, you're not Spike anymore. Or the Slayer of slayers" He thought for a moment, drumming a finger on his chin. "How about I just call you Will? And you're still in the wrong place."

Spike huffed, "You're wrong on all accounts, mate. The only one in the wrong place here is you and I got the black hat to prove it."

Whistler rolled his eyes, "As a rule, black hats don't play hide the sausage with the slayer."

Spike grumbled, "Wanna rephrase that before your head starts missin' your shoulders?"

Whistler's sighed, "And they don't go around defending the slayer's honor."

Spike wrapped his hand around Whistler's throat slamming him against the wall. "Wanna know what white hats don't do? They don't go around killin' PTB agents like yourself. Now, mind telling me why you're here before I show you how much I'm not a white hat?"

"If you want to be a pain in the ass, fine. Let's go for a trip." Whistler teleported Spike to the desert leaving him both alone and confused.

"Bloody hell. I'm going to kill that bugger whenever I find him again." The night was thick and hung over the desert like a blanket. Spike was lost in an endless sea of sand and stars. Not sure of his next move, he inhaled deep attempting to catch a scent that would lead him back to the highway and to a cheap motel. Only there was none. No car noises could be heard and no smell of gasoline. "Yes, let's leave the flammable vampire in the desert to fry." He started to walk until he caught the scent of something intoxicating. With every step he grew closer to the source, the fuzzier his head got. His demon fought to the surface eager to find the all too familiar smell. Somewhere in the back of his head he realized that this must be where the watcher and the kids had dropped the slayer off to wait for her champion. Slayer... Only different... spicier... more smoky... less sweet. Soon his feet were stumbling over each other as he moved through a valley of rocks and caves, his amber eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. As he neared, he found the slayer wriggling in chains attached to a rather large rock, her small delicate feet dangling inches off the ground. Spike approached her, unable to stop his feet if he tried. He slowly scanned the area for any sign of Angel. He's probably shagged her and left like the magnificent poof he is. Now, where's the bloody pillock? Yet there was no sign of him. His scent didn't linger in the air and there was no familiar tingle that screamed his family was near. Not sure what would happen next, Spike stepped towards her inhaling the sweet scent of virgin's blood coating the slayer's already mouthwatering smell. Say what you will about demon girl. She's not wrong about soddin blood rituals. The demon demanded to ravish her on the spot. To lick every crust of blood off her as he impaled her on his prick.

A husky moan from her kissable lips made his cock leap to attention. Eyes normally green had changed to quick silver and stared at him with need that made Spike's demon growl in response. However, the part of him that was still human was very much in control. He denied his wants, certain that if all his borrowed blood wasn't rushing south he would remember why he wasn't supposed to be here. Once again Spike looked for Angel but he was nowhere to be found. Drawn to the clang of chains and low wanting moans his feet dragged him over to her until he was close enough to touch and taste. She smells bloody brilliant, all sex, sunshine and flames pulsing underneath soft skin. Fuck... I need her wet and willing underneath me or on top of me. Fuck... or anyway she would have me. Need her right now.

He swallowed down his lust, "Hung up here all defenseless without a stitch on, covered in blood; why don't the Powers ask somethin big and nasty to eat her?"

Buffy squirmed temptingly on the rock, trying to escape her bindings. "Help me." She breathed out like a hot breeze making his blood boil.

Blue eyes ogled her small breast and the soft peach of her pussy. He leered, "That all depends, will I get somethin in return?" He couldn't stop himself from touching her, letting one hand rest on her hip while the other traveled up to the iron chains around her wrist. Soon he ground his jean covered cock into her pelvis.

She purred, "Help me." Buffy opened her legs, letting them wrap around him. She was pressed against him, her chest heaving while his face was eye level to her breast.

Whatever small amount of restraint he had was gone. "Right then... let's get those pesky chains off." He buries his face in the small mounds of her breast, sucking on a rosebud nipple while his hand followed the tangle of chains to a heavy lock. In one quick motion Spike broke the lock. Now free, Buffy propelled them backwards, sending them falling to the ground with a thump. "Yep, this is more like it." Spike grumbled before attempting to toss her off. She wasn't as easy to get off him as he thought.

Her hands busied themselves with removing his shirt while fluttering kisses rolled over him. She relished the cold skin underneath her hands moving them lower over taunt muscles. "Cold," she moaned between kisses that could make a dead man's heart race.

"Slayer," Spike gasped as her hands dived beneath his jeans to rub his large cock. Suddenly his jeans became cumbersome prison that he needed to be released from the more her hands teased him. It wasn't long before they were off and her mouth was around his shaft, her tongue teasing the head and lapping up his precum. "Slayer... not yet. God I wanna feel you." He pulled her mouth away, forcing his cock inside her with a violent thrust. He hissed as her pussy clinched around him. Her skin was like lava but Spike couldn't help but touch it. "Buffy."

"Never stop touching me." Buffy let out little moans as he plunged deeper inside her. "So close." She flipped Spike onto his back.

The two lovers never broke apart as she rode him hard. Spike groaned as Buffy writhed on top him, milking him with that tight quim of hers. Without thinking he vamped out. The monster wanted a taste of the slayer and Spike couldn't push it down anymore.

Buffy sensed what he wanted. On a primal level she needed it. Needed to feel his fangs tear apart her flesh and feel him taking her life force. She whispered in his ear, "Take it."

All Spike's demon could do was think of the taste of sweet slayer blood running down his throat. William spoke to Spike to not let the demon control him, "Oh god, please... I might never stop." Buffy started to suck on his neck before biting in to taste his blood.

Spike lost it, the monster in him reared its head and tore into her soft milky neck drinking the sweet blood as Buffy started to come. "You taste like... living flame." Spike gasped out as he became lost in the taste of her blood and the smell of her arousal. "Mine," he hissed. His cock burst inside her filling her completely.

She came with him moaning out a weak, "Yours."

With that declaration the man in Spike regained control allowing his fangs to slip out of her neck as his human face replaced the monster's that had been there moments before. He wanted to hold her longer but she still felt like she was on fire. "Sun's coming up." Spike whispered holding his lover.

Sleepily Buffy dragged him to the cave. In the damp darkness in there the couple made love a few more times until they fell asleep in each other's arms. As the sun crawled through the sky the power of the dragon's heart lost its pull. Buffy was back to herself before nightfall. Though at first she was relieved to find the long psychosis of the last two days had ebbed from her psyche, the discovery that her neck ached with fresh bite marks and that the taste of blood still lingered on her tongue filled her with a new panic. Buffy wretched herself from Spike's grasp feeling a growing sense of unease. Suddenly the implications of last night hit her like a chaos demon. She pulled Spike up by his neck with ease, shoving him into the wall, barely registering that her strength was back and the ritual was a success. She stared into blue eyes that screamed both love and shock. Emotions that were not her own made her feel like she was wearing someone else's clothes. Only they were not just anyone else's clothes she mused, they were Spike's. "Oh god no… you shouldn't be here." His hurt stabbed through her, making guilt nag at her. Still panicked, she pushed down any softness and shouted, "WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

The moment Spike fully pulled himself together he realized what was going on. I claimed her. Bloody hell she's going to kill me. He felt a growing sense of panic somewhere in his chest, only it wasn't his. Knowing it belonged to the slayer he put his bravado on, letting her press him to the cave wall. He teased, "Hey, look at that, the super girl act is back. Want another go to celebrate?" Spike leered as he snaked his hands around her heart shaped rear.

Buffy felt her breath leave her body, "Oh. God. This is serious, Spike. You claimed me... Oh god... that might have messed up this stupid ritual." She dropped him, needing to walk away before she gave into his desire for another round. "That claimy thing, it could've given me strength, right?"

"No. It makes you live as long as me and I think it stops you from aging but it doesn't give you strength." Spike leaned against the cave wall watching Buffy pace wildly much like a jungle cat unable to hunt. "I don't think the claim screwed with the ritual." Truthfully he hadn't paid close attention to Giles' explanations of the whys or hows of the ritual. All he knew was it involved the woman he love having sex with his grandsire so the Powers could use them to make little baby slayers to rebuild the line with. Like human breeding dogs. Bastards. Then realization punched him in the gut. Whistler... that pillock…. Oh bloody hell. I'm going to kill him. He really needed a cigarette. Buggering hell. How in the hell did I get wrapped up into this?

She looked at him with new horror, "Oh god, now you're freaking. Spike, only one of us is allowed to freak at a time. And currently I have first dibs on the freakage." She glared daggers at him, "WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?"

Spike chuckled with millions of things popping through his head but only one was worth mentioning. Angel was not the guy. "Don't rightly know. That Whistler chap popped me here." He studied her slender form not looking at her as anything but Buffy. A woman who in a few short months would be having his child. That one fact made him fall more in love with her.

She was back to her frantic pacing. That won't do. He stopped her by grabbing her forearms, "Breathe, luv. It's okay." He pulled her closer kissing her, "You got your powers back and new slayers are on the way. You should be relaxing." A devilish hand rolled down her arm sneaking down to her inner thigh. "Let's... Celebrate." He let his finger brush the lips of her quim earning him a moan.

Buffy stomped her foot, "I need to focus. You doing the whole sexy vampire thing isn't helping."

He smiled, "So you find me sexy, do you?" He kissed the column of her neck dipping his long fingers into her opening while his thumb toyed with her clit.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "God I shouldn't have inflated your ego."

Spike laughed, "Just say it you want my hot body."

Buffy sighed pushing him away with a humph, "You're a pig, Spike. I have a problem here. The ritual was supposed to create a new slayer line and we don't know if it worked or not. Angel—"

All of Spike's good humor vanished from him at the mention of the other vampire's name. He was not going to live in his grandsire's shadow anymore, "Not here and not coming. Like it or not I'm the guy that the PTB chose. And it's we now."

She looked at him confused, certain that he would turn tail and run at the opportunity to get out of this mess, "We?"

He cocked his head to the side, "Yeah, slayer, we. If you think for one moment I'm just-"

She didn't let him start on the rant, "Don't. Just listen for a second. I'm not upset with you for being here. I'm actually a little happy about that part. Spike, I love you. I just never figured you for the domestic type. I thought… You might not wanna be involved. And Angel and I had a plan. He was supposed to come here and once we knew that the ritual worked, we were going to go back to Sunnydale."

Spike nodded, "Right. I never leave the ones I love. I didn't leave Dru and I am bloody well not leaving you. For god sakes, woman, I claimed you. And yes, the whole white picket fence thing wasn't part of my unlife's mission but when I was human I wanted them. So yeah I'm in." He smirked," And that plan with Angel is bloody terrible. One- it involves Angel instantly making it a no go. Two- involves you going back to Sunnyhell. Too many people know us there. It makes your fake death moot. And then you're back to square one with the Council of Wankers and the sodding CDSA. And I'll be damned if I'll either them get their hands on my girls."

Buffy huffed, "Fine, what do we do next? We can't stay here. I don't do the whole roughing it thing."

"Simple, we stay here until nightfall and make sure the ritual worked. Then we get the hell out of the country, keep a low profile in the South of Spain, and raise our kid. Let Angel handle the Hellmouth for a few years."

She looked at him sadly, "I am the slayer, Spike. I can't just leave the Hellmouth and stop fighting evil." More practically she added, "Because of that word will spread that I'm live. At least in Sunnydale there's friends and family to help us."

Reluctantly he sighed, "Fine. You're right. But we can't go back to Sunnydale. You might as well put a target on your back and say, 'please kidnap me and kill me and my unborn daughter'."

She knew he was right. "Okay here's what we do. We don't leave the country. We keep a low profile in another part of the state. That way when there's trouble we'll be able to lend a hand if needed. And if we need help we'll get to the others fast." She closed the distanced between them resting a warm hand over the place his heart should have been beating.

He kissed her tenderly, "I'm in. But no sacrificing yourself for the greater good. Be selfish for a little while, alright? Our kid needs a mum."

Fin

Chapter End Notes:

Okay so there is the last chapter but no worries there is an Epilogue.

As always big thanks to Whisperrr for editing.

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