Kindred
By Sweetprincipale
Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…
Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, DarkenedHrt101, TibiaOK, Kit-Cat 99, Cjtotts, and the kind guest reviewers.
Part XVII
"He as good as admitted that we want to stay together." Spike was irritated, but with himself. He had failed miserably at being secretive. He always had, when it came to something he truly cared about, truly loved. That was how he kept getting hurt. People knew everything he wanted and they put targets on those things, on those people. That was how Angelus knew to screw Dru right in front of him, how Buffy knew how to put a stake to Dru, and now- Buffy was the one thing he wanted to protect, to love. She could take the bad guys, and he would bloody well help. Would the good guys hurt her? No, that at least was some comfort. They had him over a barrel, but at least it was the barrel of his own choosing.
"He already knew we wanted to stay involved. Now, he gets how much- sort of. That'll make it easier in the long run," Buffy sounded brave. It was practical. It prevented the hyperventilation from starting.
"But-"
"Spike?" Her voice was tiny as they crossed under a streetlight.
"What, Pet?"
"Tomorrow night- well, actually tonight-"
"Check-in is at 2. We can be waitin' at the doors. It's not even a full day away," his voice was husky as they dropped back into the shadows.
"I think I know why I was waiting to- to completely make love. Not just because of Riley. Not just my issues. Something inside understood this would be big. Also, you know, a few days of falling in love seems 'rushed' to normal people, and it took me all those day to realize that I'm okay not being totally normal, and I don't even want to pretend around you." She leaned on his arm with a thankful sigh. That mantle of pretense had been so heavy. She was glad to shed it, trade it for the weight of his loving arm against her instead. "I wanted you in me so much, and this very stubborn, little, insistent voice would always say to wait. Slayer dreams and Slayer instincts are pushy things that you can try to ignore, but it always hurts you. This was like that, and now I get why. This whole- 'one flesh' deal. I guess ancient magic does have a literal interpretation sometimes."
"It does indeed."
"So… tonight is like- a wedding night," she continued, half-halting, half-rushed.
"Yes." That was all he could let himself say.
"I'm pretty much against divorce," Buffy whispered. "Lived through one. It sucks."
"We don't have to do this," Spike was quick to say, though he hated to even voice such a thing. It felt like every piece of him was missing the only thing that could further cement their bond.
"Not what I meant. I meant… I don't want to get divorced. In the real sense of the word, or the fangy, bite-y way. Maybe we shouldn't do this."
"Why?"
"Because then I won't want to let you go." Like, ever. Not even for a minute to prove that I'm not "owned."
"Which is brilliant, since I don't want to let you go, either."
"I'm a human. I won't live for years and years without getting older. I won't even live for-"
"Oi. You control the death wish. I'm here to stop it getting mouthy. You'll live as long as you're gonna, just like me, and we'll end things with 'death do you part' just like human couples. If that's what you want." Are you bat-shagging crazy!? You would have applauded her death, provided it was with a fair fight, a few weeks ago. A week together and you wanna be with her forever?
Well, yeah. That's how it's supposed to go. Bonds are done with the intent you stick together, aren't they? "I told Rupert this was a disaster waiting to happen. You don't bond unless you plan to stick together, you want to belong together. Or, you want to own someone, more like."
"We make our own fine print." Buffy winked, voice shaking.
"That we do. I'm sayin' I'm okay with this kind of disaster, if you're in it with me."
"I will be."
They smiled as they walked in perfect step. "Patrol?"
Need to do one. We'll be otherwise engaged tomorrow night, and I want to take her against the nearest flat surface- hell, any surface, right this second. "Patrol."
They paused at a cemetery. Shadows evaporated in the absence of light. Spike gave her the nod and moved in slow and low.
Buffy followed, then split off. They didn't even need to use words right now. It seemed like they could sense, or sort of predict what the other was doing.
Big vamp. In the middle. What's he got? Spike looked through the darkness.
Bringing home dinner, Buffy realized as she saw him unceremoniously drop an unconscious figure.
"Slayer?" The big vamp turned toward Spike. He sniffed. "What the hell? Spike? Do you know you reek of Slayer?"
"It's the new fragrance for fall. All the cool vamps are wearin' it." Spike smirked.
"You finally take her out?"
"Well, no, he's planning that for later. Are we having dinner and a movie, Sweetie, or just straight to the hotel?" Buffy landed neatly behind the vampire, stake through the back as he gasped.
Spike chuckled and they lifted the victim up. He hoisted the man over his shoulder and they set off for the nearest hospital, church, or police cruiser, looking for a safe place to deposit him. "We oughta be a bit more discreet, huh?"
"Riley isn't around. We can have the night to show off a little," Buffy said recklessly.
"Not because of Finn, because of Dracula."
"He knows exactly who I choose. He knows you're the challenger. If he wants me, he'll make a move. I just hope he waits, because it's going to be hell to keep staking him and -hey, do you think if we vacuumed up his ashes real quick in two different Dustbusters we could keep him from reforming until we figure out how to kill him?"
"Why Dustbusters?"
"They're portable!"
"I can just see you, six gun holsters and big boots, Pet. Fastest sucker in the West."
Buffy gave him a wicked look. "I thought earlier you told me my 'slow burn' technique was going to set you on fire?"
"Minx."
"You like that about me."
"Mmm, I love that about you. Shall we sweep for a bit longer?"
"Maybe until sunrise? I don't think I can sleep… and I don't think I can lay down with you, either," Buffy confessed, suddenly breathless.
He knew what she meant. He moved toward her- only to be stopped by a brown loafer to the cheek. "Oh, look who's up. You're all right, mate, steady on… You nearly had it, but you're gonna be fine."
In the doorway of an abandoned building, Agent Brown paused. He had seen two figures go into the cemetery and three come back out before he could even get himself prepped to wade in after them. One was Buffy, he knew that. Who was the guy with her? He looked familiar. Why was there a man over the guy's shoulder?
The least Joshua Brown could do for a fellow agent was watch over his family and his girl. That was how Finn had put it as they clasped hands when Finn was placed on the gurney for transport. Watch Buffy. Shouldn't that have been watch over? Poor guy was fading in and out, heart rate thready, adrenal glands near crashing, and some sudden stress had sent him off the deep end. Nurses had sedated him for his own safety, making Brown's final conversation with him drowsy and sort of incoherent.
Don't get in her way unless she's in danger. Watch out for a vampire, tall, dark, forehead the size of a phonebook. Also- Dracula. Yes, the literal one.
At this point, Brown decided to nod and smile. Yes, Dracula and vampires were real, he'd seen demons, killed them, chipped them- which he considered a dumb thing to do, frankly. Not as dumb as Riley suggesting that he, a lone agent, try to take on a mythically strong creature or a legendary, mythically strong creature with nothing but a taser and a standard issue gun. It had taken a team of six to bring in every hostile they'd ever tagged.
Hostile. Yes, Hostile 17! That was the one. But he was chipped. No danger. Also- Brown stepped carefully forward from the shadows to watch them help a middle-aged man take a seat on the steps of a closed restaurant- not acting hostile by any definition.
"Do you have a cell phone?" Buffy asked the dazed man.
"Wh- what happened?" he gestured vaguely to his coat pocket.
"Mugger," Spike answered quickly. "Blow on the back of your head. Cut on your neck. Nasty brutes. You need to avoid bein' out alone late at night in this town."
"I know, but my wife just had our first baby. Tried for years. I have a daughter!" His dazed eyes focused for a second, searing his saviors with profound joy. Then the confused, concerned look reappeared. "Left the hospital to go home and walk our dogs- oh my God. Oh my God, he could have killed me! Carolyn would have- that's my wife- Carolyn would have had to raise her alone. Oh my God."
"Don't blub, now," Spike felt panicky. He was feeling something strange happening to him, a troubling but not unpleasant feeling in his gut that he couldn't place.
"Here, you're only like four blocks from the hospital. Did you make it home to your dogs?"
"I did. I walked home. I walked back and I realized I hadn't eaten yet. It'd been a long labor, twenty one hours! Carolyn was a trooper." He smiled around him in a dazed way, and then frowned as the grim reality returned. "Anyway- I was going to stop and see if I could grab something, see if anything was open late- then nothing. I don't remember anything between looking at a restaurant and waking up."
"The hospital will have a cafeteria. I'm not sure if it's technically food that they serve, but it's digestible rubber," Buffy joked and helped the man get to his feet.
"We'll get you back to 'em," Spike announced.
Buffy flashed him a surprised but grateful smile. He didn't return it. He looked- concerned. Confused.
"What's the little bit's name?"
"We couldn't decide. Marilyn or Sharon. Hey. What's your name, Miss?"
"Buffy."
"What's your middle name?"
Buffy and Spike hid wry grins. "Anne."
"Marilyn Anne or Sharon Anne. I insist. You two must be guardian angels."
Spike lit up hastily, face taut. "She is. I was just-"
"Don't sell yourself short, William," Buffy used his human name for the sake of the wobbly man between them, and earned a look of shock, replaced slowly by something shy and gratified.
"Will you come meet her? The baby? And my wife! Oh my God. You saved my life. They'll want to meet you. You saved my family."
Brown trailed the trio to the hospital. Feeling awkward, he went in and watched the man get diverted from his path to the maternity wing to the triage nurse at the ER who insisted on putting a dressing on his neck. She was then was willing to release him quickly to his family since he'd still be in the hospital. The blonde girl stayed with him while her silent companion went away and returned several minutes later with a large foil balloon with teddy bears and hearts on it.
"For the little one. I don't think I'll come up. I just had a smoke, y'see. Not good for her bitty lungs. You go on, Sl- Buffy."
"Okay. I'll see you this afternoon," Buffy kept her voice light and casual. Something was up. Two somethings. She gave Spike the nod toward the door, and he took the cue.
One thing was more important and urgent. It was something she wanted Spike to let her handle, and because he didn't have to prove that he was a big boy who could protect the helpless little lady, he nodded and left. She made sure that the something of concern didn't follow him. It didn't.
"I'll come meet your daughter in a minute, Mr.-"
"Ryan."
"Ryan. I see an old friend I need to say hi to."
"I know you. Don't know your name, but I know your face, and I know you're watching me. Helping Riley?"
Brown looked sheepish. "You're good. You were crazy good, from day one."
"I'm good, and you guys suck at stealth. Honestly. Was it not part of the training?"
"You had to get a passing grade, but that was it," Brown's smile, briefly visiting, now vanished. "He's having surgery this morning, in just a few hours."
"I know. I'm thinking of him. I'm worried about him. But if he thinks I'm not out unless he's watching my back, that can't happen. A night here and there I can miss if I have to. I have friends to help. But taking off days while he recuperates- not on a Hellmouth, especially not when the nights get longer."
"I see that. Don't worry, he didn't want you to take the night off. He just wanted me to make sure no vamps hassled you. One with the big forehead? And Dracula?"
Angel. As if Angel would hassle me. I bet Riley didn't explain what was going on past the me getting bit part. That's good, I guess. It also makes me look like the weak one instead of him looking like the selfish one. "Okay. I can see him requesting that," Buffy said as civilly as she could. Inside, she was screaming. Was Riley determined to let his friends die for the sake of his ego? "No offense, but I can handle them better than you can."
"None taken. I know. I was going to help if you got attacked or anything, but no way in hell could I take on a vamp alone. We had units for a reason. We're just humans. You're the Slayer," Brown muttered softly, stepping closer and hoping no one overheard him.
"You get that?" Buffy's eyes narrowed.
"What's to get? Vampires are real. A Chosen One to hunt them is real. You have the gift to hunt them, I just checked the box for special missions when I was done Black Ops Basic."
"Why doesn't Riley get that?"
"Why does he insist Iowa is the best state ever when they don't even have a professional baseball team?" Brown shrugged. "I don't get inside his head, lady, I just do favors for my friends. He's hurt, he wanted someone to make sure you were okay. I can see you are. I went to your address first, when you weren't there I started looking around cemeteries. I saw you- and I could see you had some backup."
"Mhm." She waited.
Brown spoke casually, waiting to see if there were any telltale twitches. "An HST? I don't remember his number." No twitches, just a setting jaw and a sudden flash in her eyes that reminded him deadly things came in pretty packages in Sunnydale.
"That's good. He's not a number. He has a name. He has - people he helps, people he cares about."
"Uh- that's not typical."
"No, I know that. He's not controlled by a demon, he just has one. Consider it a- a metaphysical prosthetic." Buffy winced internally. That is so much not what it is. That is so dumbed down.
Commando level explanations.
Brown shrugged. "You're the expert. Gotta say, I've never seen a vampire save a human from another vampire before."
Buffy hesitated. "Yes, you have. You've seen that one do it. That exact same vampire came with me and my friends into the Initiative and stopped Adam and his Trojan Horse party. You might owe that vamp your life." Okay, so he was also part of the original Adam-Trojan Horse plan, but he switched sides. He's on my side for good now. That's the only relevant part.
Brown looked surprised. "He was? I didn't even-"
"He wore fatigues and took out demons. You were probably too busy not dying to notice one pale guy in olive drab in the thick of things. He's got darkness, but he can use it for good. You saw that." I saw that. I saw that it freaked Spike out, too. I gotta go meet up with him. I guess I'll have to play with temptation for a little bit longer.
"What's his name?" Wait, do they have names? They must, right? People talk to them. They were humans- once. This was a big step. It was the first time he'd ever thought of them as having names. Not just numbers. Not just things. Maybe not people. But something more than wild beasts bent on hurting. This one helps. "He's chipped, right?"
"Doesn't matter," Buffy kept her voice level.
"I guess not. Not like we're still in the business of chipping them up, anyway. His name?"
Buffy debated. How much had Brown seen or heard? How much would Riley connect the dots? Did Riley even know Spike had another name? He had definitely proven he sucked at listening and at research. "His name is William."
"William."
"Can you just tell Riley I'm fine? He doesn't even need to know about William helping me out. I don't need him to stress about me. He's got to get better."
"I'll tell him you - you went on patrol and saved someone's life. Mazel Tov."
"Mazel Tov, Agent Brown."
"I have to get back to base. I only had a twelve hour pass. I ship out soon."
"Be careful out there," Buffy said genuinely.
He returned it with a crooked grin and half-salute as he walked away. "Stay safe, Summers."
Buffy headed toward the hospital elevators. Riley might figure it out. Eventually. Ugh.
Well- then he can deal. And if he tries to hurt Spike- I will take back everything I ever said about not wanting to hurt him.
Spike stirred in his bed. He wasn't sleeping peacefully, but he had slept, off and on.
Now, he was on as if someone turned a key in his ignition. Senses were suddenly on fire. My girl. My girl's here! "Buffy!" He sat up with relief in his voice, finding her slipping down the ladder.
"I held the baby! Oh my God, she's like the tiniest thing I've ever seen! She's 5 pounds 3 oz and she has so much fluffy brown hair. Like duck down, all soft and puffy. And she's all squished up, her tiny pink face is all smooshy and chubby. I wanted to kiss her cheeks, but I didn't. I was so scared to hold her, but I did it! Carolyn is really nice. Also, she looked like utter hell. Happy about it, but still. Labor is hard. I'm very, very okay that I don't have to push something the size of a watermelon out of something more the size of a -"
Spike was sitting up, shirtless, his expression switching from soft to lecherous, making her halt. "Go on," he led.
"Something small," Buffy hastily concluded.
"Who was the git following us? Dracula's or Finn's?"
"Finn's. Riley's old friend. He recognized you- but not specifically."
"Well, the fat's in the fire, then. What do we do?" Finn'll kill me. Or her. Well, then, I'll put him down first. No one hurts us. Sod, how'm I- Her voice broke into his thoughts.
"I don't know. You don't get hurt. If Riley tries to hurt you- we have to stop him. I'll do what I have to." Buffy suddenly cocked her head. "You need your chip out."
"Say what?" Spike bolted to his feet immediately, dragging half the sheet with him.
"You have to be able to defend yourself."
"But if I take my chip out-"
"Nothing changes about how you act, just about how you can protect yourself. That's the next thing on the list, after the Dracula stuff. But don't freak about the agent guy. We talked. He seemed cool with knowing you had helped us before. I told him not to tell Riley anything more than that I had a safe patrol without Dracula showing up. Riley told Brown to watch out for Dracula and Angel. Didn't mention you."
"For once, I'm not jealous. Back to the chip-"
"Do you want it out?"
True love- an' still a little bit stupid at times. "Of course!"
"Then- we'll have to find a way. Maybe we should do that before we take care of Dracula? I don't know." Buffy launched into a list of rapidfire, mumbled pros and cons of sticking to the plan of ending Dracula permanently as the priority or of finding some magical way to disable or remove the chip so that Spike could defend himself from Riley, who was at least sidelined for a few weeks.
Spike hushed her, coming up and pressing to her side, making her realize that he had worn nothing to bed, making all of her instincts cry out that he was hers, and she was his. Any act between them was okay now.
Little words, in her own voice yet wiser seemed to prod her deeper into his arms. He gave himself to you. You may give yourself to him. He will not own and possess. He will not control and harm. He will be your equal. He will give you all of himself, taken inside of you, as he takes you inside of him.
"Woozy. Need to sleep," Buffy panted as they tangled into a kiss.
"The chip can wait. You have to be free before I can be free," Spike murmured.
"You keep putting me first. I want to put you first. I want- I want you to be safe. You deserve this."
"So do you."
"I love you."
"With all my heart."
"I wasn't going to sleep next to you today. I don't want to rush. Feel like rushing," Buffy ran her hands eagerly over his arms and his chest, ending at his shaft, which was pointing hotly into her hand, somehow so warm.
"Your blood in me. Lasts a long time. Keeps my fire burnin'. Always burnin' for you, have been, since I saw you, until you controlled the flames. A fire-dancer you are, make all the embers mind you." He ran his lips over her ear and down to the bite, tugging the scarf off in one hard motion, a rasp of silk twining with her gasping moan.
"Can we go there now? The place?"
"You should sleep. Sleep beside me, I'll be good. I'll always be good to you."
So weird. To feel so safe. Safety doesn't mean I'm weak. Safety just means he's strong, too. God, I love this. Love him. "I need to go home and shower. My bags-"
"Right, the bags. The shower," he agreed, still kissing her. "Drive you?"
"The sun is up. I thought maybe you'd want space. But I wanted to check on you."
"Why? Finn's out of commission for a bit."
"You acted like someone spooked you at the hospital. Was it Brown?"
"Huh? No, I twigged to him, but that wasn't it."
"What then?"
Damn her. She picked up on everything. How had he once thought she was oblivious and vapid? Must've been the miniskirts and the valley girl lingo. "You must get it all the time. The people."
"What people?"
"The ones you save? Sayin' you saved their lives. Lookin' at you like that. Like you're somethin' special and good. Angelic, even."
"I usually get the running and screaming, but yes, an occasional thank you is forthcoming."
"That little girl would have grown up without a dad."
"It sucks. Even if you're not so little," Buffy whispered.
"Sucks even if you're a boy."
"Oh, Spike-"
"It's all right. Past is past." I killed lots of mums and dads, lots of sons and daughters. I didn't save too many. That look he gave me- that look of knowing you're going to be with the person you love… That look when you know your family is safe- "It was a rush. Different kind. I want that look again. I want that look for us."
"Hm?" Buffy stopped tracing patterns on his sternum and looked into his dark blue eyes.
"That look when the bloke realized he'd make it back to his wife. His baby. Safe and loved. Not ruined, not wrecked, torn apart. Want that for us. Want to- want to have you love me like that. Always safe and never torn away, torn apart. Always with me and me with you. Kindred." He let out a shaking breath when he looked in her eyes. "Bride."
Little word. Tiny, almost trembly whisper.
It was amazing what one word could do to you. She wondered if one of hers could make his heart expand the way hers just had. "Yes."
The sun was high. Showers and naps had been had. Bags were in the trunk. Hands were clasped on the bench seat between the driver and passenger.
"We're rushing into things."
"No, we're not."
"Spike, it's been a week. That's all."
"It's been years of knowing you. How long did it take you to go from average girl to Slayer?"
"Overnight. When one dies, you get ther powers instantly, no waiting."
"Sometimes it happens all at once. The best things. The hard things."
"This could be both."
"I accept the challenge," Spike chuckled.
They drove in silence, her with her eyes closed, him with his dark sunglasses on, peering through the painted windscreen.
"It's not actually that sudden," Spike broke the silence. "I didn't realize it until this morning, when I realized how much I wanted for you an' me to always be together, to have that look of relief, that nothin' is gonna come between us."
"Realize what?" Buffy lolled her head over to him with a serene smile.
"I've been waiting to find you my whole life. This isn't really a short story, Luv, it's just one brief chapter in a bloody long book."
She slid up against him, put her head on his shoulder. Words and phrases clogged her throat and her brain tried to find the right one.
I love you.
Thank you.
I think so, too.
This is freaky.
But wonderful.
"You're right, Spike."
"Say it again- I can never hear that enough!"
She laughed and kissed his cheek before settling back down against him. "Thank you for being in my story and putting me in yours."
"Were you jokin'?"
"About?"
"Dinner and a movie?"
"Oh. No, I'd love to go with you- but, I guess that seems pretty lame. Great big life-altering stuff verus burgers."
"I wasn't thinking burgers. Nice place. Proper place, low lighting, away from the windows. Or a show. 'Cause they have no windows as a rule."
"But- the big life-altering stuff?"
"If we're gonna be- if you were gonna become my-" Can't say wife. Oh God. Can't say it, wanna say it, I hate this, stupid mouth- "If you and I were gonna have some sorta weddin' night, don't you think I oughta least take you on one date?"
"Movies. Popcorn. Coke and popcorn and Junior Mints."
"We're sneakin' in the back, just so you know. Tend to avoid sunny glass windows these big movie-plexes go in for."
"What'll we see?"
"Just you. And how long it takes for one of us to make noise," he whispered mischievously.
Buffy giggled, but then bit her lip. Was later going to be all fun and games, giggling, orgasmic sex? She supposed she shouldn't complain if it was. That would be wonderful, delightful.
Only I don't want it to be like that, not at first. Something tight and anticipatory curled in her stomach and flared to her pelvis and up to her chest. Tell him. You can trust him. You can tell him. He loves you, all of you.
He stopped the car at an intersection. "My love," he murmured.
"My love," she returned naturally, the perfect call and response. "Spike, I love to laugh with you. I never had someone to laugh with. I had lots of serious. Too much, sometimes. But, later-"
"Oh. Oh, my girl needn't worry. I know this is serious. In fact," he cleared his throat gruffly, "it's prob'ly the kind of serious we ought to be clear about."
He had to swallow a few times before the words would flow. "I do want this. I'm so fuckin' scared to do this. I never thought I would fall in love again, and I never, ever thought it would be you. I want it to be you, I want it to be forever, an' that shakes me up good and proper. I broke the hold, I gave me to you, you gave yourself to me, and it all kept getting deeper. Harder and faster, rollin' down some hill covered in blood and ancient words that have a lot of power."
Buffy waited, but he stopped and didn't continue. "It's not how I wanted things to go. Not how I planned. But I like them. Do you- no, I know you do. I don't have to ask."
"But I should ask." He hesitated. A sign for local attractions pointed him to a mall and movie theater along with a steak houses and a Mexican restaurant. He hastily pulled in, cutting off a lorry and earning a loud blare. He ignored all of those things. He could only hear her breathing, shallow and short, and her thudding, anxious heartbeat.
He parked the car. Turned off the engine. Stared straight ahead at his whiter than white knuckles on the torn black steering wheel. "Would you like- would you even want to consider- bein' my wife?"
Wife.
The note inside was jarring, like a piano being dropped- and then splattered keys turned into a perfect concerto, a virtuosic moment that crescendoed over all the rapid-fire arguments in her head.
Vampires don't get married. We could never get married. Angel's grave, face and melting eyes.
Slayers don't marry. They die too young.
You're not out of college.
You hated him days ago.
He killed thousands of people.
You're a killer, too.
None of that matters. None of it. That wasn't the question. Do you want to be his wife?
"I don't just want to, I'd love to."
Spike turned to her now, grabbing her up hard enough to make her squeak in protest before he crashed his lips to hers. "Say it back. Return it."
Her kiss-melted mind took a moment to process.
"Hard, harder, hardest!" Spike bit her lip softly as a reminder.
Return. Give what you get. "Kindred. Hu-husband." She gave a sudden shiver of fear, longing, and then the feeling of power came at the end like the afterburn of good whiskey.
"Put this on." Spike's hands were usually so skillful, but now they were clumsy with excitement and shock. Buffy found a battered ring, not the skull one he'd once given her, but a simple piece of thick silver, too large for her ring finger, being shoved on over her forefinger instead.
"I love it." Buffy meant the words. She absolutely adored this ring. This human's mark to go with the vampiric one he'd leave later. Or now. The backseats of these old cars are pretty big and- "We have to go to the movie, now, or we have to go to the hotel, right now, right now." Buffy pulled herself from his hungry kisses with an effort.
Spike let his senses slip beyond her for a moment. Barely noon. "Flick first. Fun later."
"I'm pretty sure all of it's fun," Buffy realized.
This was not fun. This was torture. Okay- erogenous-y-fun-torture. They were in a deserted theater at a midday showing of a terrible C- List horror film where the camera joggled and the actresses spent a lot of time screaming and taking their shirts to dangerous depths of cleavage.
Speaking of cleavage- that was also a spot that Spike seemed to enjoy. She wasn't complaining. She couldn't. If she opened her lips, she would moan louder than the actresses in one of their fake-torrid love scenes.
Two could play at that game- or would if Spike wasn't buffeted by layers of leather and denim and smirky-ness. "Not. Fair." Buffy freed herself from his pleasuring touches.
"Thought you'd like the warm up."
"I'm too warmed up. I feel feverish again."
Spike now looked concerned instead of conceited. "Shit. Maybe the bastard has more staying power than we thought. Maybe I'm not powerful enough to challenge him properly, or not at a distance, or-"
"Not thrall fever. Not true fever. Hunger."
Spike knew she wasn't a vampire. Didn't need to be. She could thrall him with those innocent but bewitching eyes. Her lip tucked up between her teeth in another bout of nerves. He would give anything for her to stop looking like that. Scared of doing it wrong. Guess the only way for her to learn is to give her some practice. "I'm hungry for you, too, Beautiful. Nothin' wrong in that. In fact, I say it's a fine thing."
She nodded, but didn't speak.
"Worrying again?"
Buffy looked up at him. In the flickering screenlight, she could see all the emotions flitting through his eyes and spiralling down to his lips, torn between smiling and serious. "Do you want to tell the others?"
Spike blinked. Well, that was unexpected. He had figured she'd swear him to secrecy under threat of frosty shoulders and broken septums. "Not yet," he offered simply.
"Disappointed?"
"No. It's all right to have a bit of privacy, Luv. Your Scobbies get into everything. God knows it'd drive some blokes mad. This can be one thing they find out later. Comfy with that?"
"Very comfy. B-but boyfriend is okay?"
His eyes popped. "You wanna tell 'em I'm your-"
"I figure we'll give it a few weeks for them to digest us being friends before we spring it on them."
"An' then?"
"We survive the first few weeks first," Buffy laughed bitterly. "Council. Travers. Riley. He's out of surgery by now, maybe. Gosh, I don't know how long heart surgery takes. I… I hope he's okay. I should have asked Brown to let me know."
Spike patted her arm without even the slightest bit of jealousy or possessiveness. He knew she was worried. He hated to see her struggling with herself, with that soft, strong, good heart. His beautiful puzzle, his lovely oxymoron. She gives and forgives and loves with all of herself. An' she'll be mine soon. All of her. For all of me. "Don't fret, Slayer. They'd let you know if anything is wrong. No news is good news and all that. We can pop to a phone, check your messages?"
"Maybe after," Buffy whispered, pulling him to his feet. Can't wait anymore.
"It's beautiful!" Buffy tried to rush into their room, but Spike tightened his grip on her and tugged her back. With a swoop, he picked her up, legs over one arm, back in the other. "Spike!"
He continued as if she hadn't squealed, carrying her while talking expansively, strolling about the room as if he'd never put her down. "Now, I know traditionally the groom does that after the ceremony, but since we need to be inside the room for the ceremonies to commence…" he twirled her to the ground and deposited her in front of the closed drapes. "Thought I'd carry my bride-to-be over the threshold."
"Tradition-shmadition," Buffy grinned. "Pretty view?"
"I'll get the bags from the hall, you see if you like it."
Buffy opened the curtain to see a distant glitter of ocean and strip of beach, a long stretch of sparse houses and trees in between them and the hotel. This place wasn't beachfront. It wasn't fancy. It was clean and in the midst of a busy little city where they wouldn't be noticed. As promised the bed was big and the view was pretty. "It's perfect!" Buffy closed the drapes. She didn't want to dwell on those sights, anyway.
"It's not much, but-"
"I think it's perfect," Buffy said in a steely voice that shut his mouth. Then she smiled. "Does it have to be night to be a wedding night?"
"Well… technically, I suppose -" Spike trailed off as he watched her slowly, deliberately remove her scarf and turn to the bedroom mirror, fingers dexterously working in and out of her golden locks. Twisting it, pinning it, off to one side.
Some women put on a show, a striptease. Mine just lets me watch her put that pretty little neck on display. "It's late afternoon. Close enough. B'sides… think we'll go into the night, so it's both. Wedding day and wedding night."
He came up behind her, but she couldn't see the reflection in the mirror. "Hmm. Good deal. If you get the room ready, I'll get me ready."
"What's to ready, Luv?"
Her hands put a final twist on her hair and she turned, that eager yet lost look in her eyes once more. "I don't know. I never- you're the first. The only."
Only bride. Only groom.
Forever.
Eternal.
Let the instincts drive, Spike thought. "I'll see to it."
He made it dark and then lit candles. He put them near the bed on the little two drawer nightstands- and then realized that they could be looking at a fire with one wrong jostle of furnishings. He moved them all to the little desk just under the mirror, let the reflective surface catch all the pretty flickering flames. Beautiful. Like her.
He stripped the bed down to the fitted sheet and its nest of plump pillows. They needed the space, sans the entanglement of too many covers. There. Big bed. Pretty view. She's the loveliest sight of all.
Hell. She's gonna be all prettied up and what'll I be dressed in? Jeans that've only seen more filth than a landfill or nothin' at all. I didn't bring roses. Sod. Should have brought roses. An' something sexy for gents to wear, silky boxers. Bloody hell, I'm off to a good start, aren't I?
He stilled himself, listening to the rustle of fabric from the bathroom. She doesn't want trappings. She wants you. Wants special. Love. Real love, real stayin' power. Reality, such as our twisted breed of reality is. He left only his jeans on, belt off, and that was it. Waited to collect her as she came from the bathroom.
Buffy flossed and brushed (popcorn hulls were probably demonic) and fussed about the pure white nightgown that ended at the tops of her thighs. She slid on the matching thong, slid on the garter. "Should have got red. Why didn't I get red? This is going to get blood on it."
Hands were shaking. You do this and you're married in the way no judge can undo. Even if he says the words to "set me free", or I say them, it'll feel like pieces of me are torn away and missing if we separate. Do this, and you'll never be apart. Never alone.
Never alone. Never lost and alone, the whole world to carry by yourself.
The air escaped her and the joy entered her like sinking into a warm, steamy tub. All the muscles relaxed. Never alone.
"Don't laugh," Buffy felt compelled to shout out a disclaimer as she opened the door.
"You, either. I didn't have time to buy any frillies- oh. Oh, Luv, look at my girl. How could I laugh? Do you think I'm the sort of bloke who goes out and yucks it up in front of the great masterpieces?"
Buffy blushed as she found herself reverently gathered into his arms, his eyes raking over her appreciatively, pretty much glowing.
"All those Renaissance chappies have nothing on my Slayer. My Buffy. My bride." He ran his hands down her sides, feeling her warmth through cool white silk. "You take a little piece of silk and make it fit for a queen, Pet."
"Every girl needs someone like you," Buffy laughed gently. "We wouldn't go around thinking we were two scrawny or ugly or-"
"Hush that talk!" Spike glared at her, dark brows down and jaw hard. "No one speaks of my wife like that. Not even the good lady herself. 'Sides, all my pieces seem satisfactory, but I didn't bring any of the pretty wrappings." He gestured ruefully down at his own jeans.
"I love the wrappings. I love the present a lot more." Buffy twined her arms around him playfully. "You know, I asked you to get me free from Dracula. I didn't know you'd give me a two-for-one deal. No one's ever dropped a husband in my lap."
They both paused, then laughed together as they said, "Except Willow."
"God, I love you," Spike sighed and took her hands, stepping back to admire her one more time. Caught sight of a garter at the thigh. "You went all out for me!"
"So did you! We could have- we could have done this anywhere. We kinda almost did," she giggled.
"Bridal bed. Should be special. Unforgettable."
"Everything with you is unforgettable. Except the bad stuff. All of the past seems… hazy. I know it happened. I know I hated you. It just doesn't seem to matter." Resolve prickled. "Is that just the bond?"
Spike considered. "I dunno. You seemed to hate Drac pretty consistently, even before I attempted to help you, and he didn't have any challengers, didn't have any interference except your own free will. You still got all your own free will, don't you, Pet?" Hell. What if she says no? What if we did this wrong? Stupid, sacred primordial magical shit.
"I don't know. Let's test it. Give me an order."
"Come kiss me."
"Not that kind of order! I want to do that, idiot!" Buffy poked his ribs and went to the other side of the room, looking teasingly defiant.
"Put the telly on."
"Nope."
"Is it hard to say no?"
"No. Well, it depends. It was pretty hard not to run over there and kiss you…"
"I'm bound to you just as much. Gimme a turn."
"Order room service."
"We just ate three tubs of popcorn! You'll be sick."
"So, no?"
"So, no. How about after, when you need to top up your tank, Luv?"
"That sounds- Oh no! Spike! Did you-"
"I ate plenty. B'sides…" he met her back in the middle of the room, directly in front of the foot of the bed, "I think my bride'll help me. The smallest taste of her, the tiniest bit of her inside me- I could go for hours. She's powerful, my girl."
All the playfulness evaporated when he touched her neck. Finger gently to the mark he left on her. "The second I-" he shuddered, shoulders tensing and trying to relax, "the second I saw that mark on you- you remember what I said? That first night?"
She remembered so much, a lifetime in mere days, all so fresh and all so much a part of her as if she'd lived it forever. "You said, 'I look good on you.' I didn't know what to say. How to feel."
"But now?"
"You do look good on me." She touched his chin and turned his head slowly, gently but with her fingers firm, "I look good on you, too. Only my bites don't scar."
His eyes dilated as she ran her thumb over the tender, flexing hollow between tendons. He closed his eyes, nostrils flared. "Maybe this time I-"
She stopped and his eyes opened, met hers once again. "Hungry?" he whispered.
"Not the blood. The mark. The- I didn't get you a ring," she concluded, confused and yet certain.
He understood. She wants to mark me as hers, too. Permanent way. Think maybe we can work something out. "I'll help you."
"I know," she whispered.
The other times, the focus on biting led to foreplay, which had then led to making love in some way. This way felt backwards and proper all at once. He kissed her and remembered the first dream he had of her since this mess began- heads tangling and lips kissing, turning to biting as voices whispered "harder." Now this kissing turned to necking, teeth and nibbling lips mauling sensitive spots in a loving, desperate way.
It wasn't rushed, no, but every motion had such heat and intensity. Hands were interlocking and veering off to caress and seek out skin, taking down denim, pooling up silk. His fingers stopped and tangled in the lacy white band on her thigh. "Fancy, Pet."
"It's traditional," Buffy whispered, blushing. "Silly, I-"
"You know, the garter was proof the bride and groom had consummated."
"What?"
"In the old days, when you didn't get under a girl's skirts unless you were the lawful husband. Having your wife's garter meant you two had been married in more than name only."
"You make history way cooler," Buffy no longer blushed, she giggled in satisfaction. "Well, maybe I'd better leave this on for now. You haven't 'consummated' me all the way."
"Oooh, Slayer. You in this little strip of nothing?" Spike's purr rumbled from his chest, into her own.
"I love when you do that. It's like an internal massage. All of me feels warm and my muscles start to melt," Buffy purred in her own way, looking into his eyes, pulling him back toward the bed.
"All of you melts me. You're just the softest, sweetest, juiciest," his legs walked back with hers, pressed together on every step, a tango that had no music but just as much sultriness, "little pink peach."
Buffy fell with a gasp and closed her eyes as he fell atop her. Lips trailed down, fabric rode up. The garter stayed on.
He looked up at her with a playfully wicked smirk. "Heard another custom- modern one- is that the groom gets to take the garter off the bride, but he can't use his hands."
Her stomach tingled as he left a halo of kisses on it, then trailed down to one thigh, stopping just above the knee, teeth on white lace. "You have a talented mouth," she managed to squeak as his tongue did something unprecedentedly wonderful to the side of her knee.
"So do you, Baby. Your turn to show me in a minute."
Buffy loved this. The laughter, the sweetness, and the sheer need for each other got them snuggled up together, lips having explored each other briefly. But she hadn't wanted it to be all giggling and banter.
He knew that. Too serious to laugh over. Too beautiful not to enjoy. He smiled down on her tenderly as their lips parted. "Keep a secret?"
"All of yours," Buffy vowed.
"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," Spike told her, smile gone, all seriousness. "I wanna keep you, Buffy. So-" he sat her up with him, shoulder to shoulder in the near-dark, finding her hands twined with his over their bent knees. He pulled the ring from her hand, making her gasp. "Will you be mine? My wife?"
She didn't have a ring in return. She only had herself. "I'll be yours. If you'll be mine?"
"Just like that," he whispered, pushing the ring back onto her hand. "Yes, yours."
The tingle encompassed them, made them shiver and shudder closer. "What's that?" Buffy whispered.
"I don't rightly know, but if I had to guess, I'd say the wedding ceremony officially started," Spike whispered back.
"Can I kiss the groom?"
"All over," Spike invited and found himself pulled to her warmth by her slight hands with their steel muscles. Her tongue dipped in, danced about, challenged his own, and her little mewls of desire turned into demanding huffs against his lips.
Hungry. He remembered. Harder, he heard. His fangs shifted into place while they were still kissing, breaking the skin on her lower lip, her sudden gasp and twisting broke the skin of his.
She didn't pull back, twist away, she twisted in, deeper. "Drink me. Taste me." I'm hungry. I get fed. He needs to be fed, too, not the body, the soul. Whatever he has in him, carrying the light, the dark, whatever. We feed each other.
Yes, taste her. Drink her. Mark her. He growled and she only writhed closer. That's right. Huntress. Doesn't fear the beast. She commands him. Owns him.
Own her.
His eyes were no longer their normal deep yellow, but something darker, red-washed under gold. "I love you. I promise you- to take such good care. Of every piece."
"I know. It's mutual." Green wasn't its normal bright, hazel-flecked shade. Her eyes were darker with desire, a dusky jungle green.
"Where my wild cat lies," Spike murmured.
She didn't find his little phrase strange in the least. She threaded her hand lazily, possessively through his hair, "Panther. Prowls up and bites- purrs against me."
Spike found himself switching from fangs to blue eyes without thought, and she didn't seem to notice or care. If blood stained their lips, it was nothing new, it was shared.
"I love you, Spike. Never leave you."
She knew every weak spot he had- and she could protect them.
"Never leave you…" Symphony in three words. "Baby knows all the things I like to hear."
"Which is pretty strange, isn't it?" Buffy smiled at him placidly, thumb running over his lips as they shifted from their sides to him on top, then the other side, everything clear as crystal, even though time seemed to be losing its definite edges. "A week ago, I wouldn't have imagined any of this."
"Nor would I. But- it's not so strange, Slayer. You an' me, we know just what to say because we're the set. I carry you in me, and you have me in you. Light in the darkness-"
"Dark in the light."
Another shift, back to kneeling, his hands skimming over her like a sculptor forming the curves of a vase. Voice was low. "We make the darkness safe, Pet."
"Safe with you. Safe together."
"Come with me?"
Where are we going? She didn't voice it aloud, as the second she thought it, she knew the answer. Come into the dark with him, the safe, warm, dark where bodies and hearts and brains linked up, claimed each other, and found themselves bound. Not in chains. In safety nets.
Dracula shackles. Spike straps on my parachute. "I love you so much!" Buffy suddenly burst out, kissing him hard. "I'll go with you, anywhere."
"Take you wherever you want to go." A tiny nagging thought cut into his mind, then his heart. She's not a vampire. Do these vows count? I act like they will, she believes they will, but-
"Spike?"
"Buffy?"
"You're supposed to take me with you. You went far away. Bring you back to me." She led him home with hot, longing kisses, kneading, pulling hands, moving from shoulders to chest to rear and erection, stroking and cupping as he did the same to her. She lifted her knee and scooted up, let him lift her with a sharp grunt, rub her soaking heat to his lukewarm crown.
"You're not a vampire," Spike whispered, stopping himself from entering that dreamed of paradise.
"I'm not going to be one."
"I know that. I want- I want this to be real, Buffy. Dammit. Shouldn't, but I-"
"Shhh. Yes, we should. And if I wasn't a vampire, me loving you and biting you wouldn't have any kind of hold on you. But I do." Confidence swelled in her heart and puffed out her chest. "You can't stand to think of this breaking. You want to be with me. I'm in your system. You told me that it was hard to place a hold on someone, that it takes all kinds of mental control and love and power… That's between two vampires. We do hard. We do hardest. I'm more than human. I'm not part demon, but I have the demon's strength. I have some kind of dark power, some kind of light power. Just like you. We can do this. You just have to show me how."
Show her. I don't know how. "Gimme a minute, Luv." Let the instincts run the show.
She had the same thought. The kissing and stroking turned from loving and lingering to insistent and purposeful. His fingers stroked through her curls and parted her lips, making her gasp and buck up into him.
"No one else. Not like I will. Not as far or hard or deep." He hesitated, then rubbed lower, second opening, making her eyes widen, but she didn't move back, only moved in, clinging. She trusts me. Of course she does. Could never hurt my bride. "Shh. No, not unless you want me to, just petting you. Every piece of you, I'll make feel good. Burn in a good way. Touch you inside," his fingers moved back to her sweet pink channel and slipped firmly inside, pressing down and in, "where all that pretty darkness is hiding, wrapped in all your sunshine."
"Then come in and visit. No, come in and stay."
"Yesss," he hissed through gritted teeth as she slid her hips slightly suggestively, up and down him. Fucking herself on my fingers, my wife wants me so bad. "Come in and stay? Forever?" he led with a sweet but naughty twinkle in his eyes.
"Duh, yes," she responded with the same tone.
"Say the other bit."
"Come in and- oh," her cheeks flamed as he lifted her up and back, now kneeling over her, fingers still buried in her. "That part happens at the end," she spasmed on his hand and slid her calves over the back of his, trying to draw him in.
Didn't work. Found him suddenly nuzzling her breasts and slipping down her, nibbling and sucking a trail of skin to her pouting pinkness, briefly lapping at it before his head nudged her firmly on the hip. "Luv, can we-" Spike sounded desperate and mildly confused.
Like a cat butting its head under your hand, wants to be petted, Buffy thought as she stroked his face and rolled to her side. She was surprised when Spike slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her up to her knees. His hand came around her front, cupped and kneaded a breast before latching onto her neck softly, thumb stroking insistently at her bite.
Demon mates. Mounts. Spike pushed her shoulders forward, watching as her palms hit the bed and she squared her hips with a gasp. "There it is." Soon as he saw the back of her neck, where the soft pad of flesh met her shoulder, his fangs burst out. Demon marks. Owns. Put her like this so she's mine. The bite where she can't return it- what? What the fuck is wrong with me?
He watched how willingly she stretched back, arched up into him, so loving, all of her body loving all of his. We both hate being controlled, hearts mucked about with, owned and not cared for, not equal in it.
"Spike? Ready?"
"Interference, Luv, sorry." That was an owner's bite. One that couldn't be reciprocated, one that the partner, the bitee, couldn't control. Not the bite for her. Or me. He left a journey of kisses, hitting each notch of her backbone, down between her cheeks, lapping once into her tunnel before slipping up against her, and then sighing. "Wanted to make sure I gave the back as much love as the front."
He was lying, or rather, not telling the whole truth, but Buffy didn't mind. When he sat back, she faced him and saw some sort of regret in his eyes, flicker of guilt, not aimed at her, with himself."Hm?"
"Think- think sometimes the demon side gets a little pushy. Or maybe it's me. I do love you bein' mine. But I love the idea of bein' yours just as much."
"Then make me yours." His mouth opened, another explanation for her, one she didn't need. "Trust you. Shh. It'll work out." For once in my life- something with a guy- no, with this guy, this one and only one, is going to work out.
He looked down at this gift, this woman for him, all spread and waiting, inviting. "Good enough to eat," he winked. Then the seriousness flickered back in. "Hungry, Luv?"
"Always for you."
"B'lieve a toast is in order on the wedding night. But the bride and groom are supposed to drink together. Bridal cup, one chalice from which two sip?" He took her hand grandly, drawing her back up. This would be the last time she rose as an unwed woman.
Flashes of a dream passed before her eyes. Cup brimming with blood, and she had pushed it away, worrying, not this much. Dracula wanted it all, all of her blood, draining her. Spike wanted all of her, filling her back up, filling the empty spots. "That's right. Together."
It wasn't complicated. He'd thought somehow it would be complicated to line this up, but it really wasn't. She tilted her head and found his neck, right at the decades-old bite, he moved a few inches lower than normal, nestled into her shoulder. "Harder this time," he whispered. "You, not me."
"I know." She did. My man. My mark.
Eyes shifted to meet at an angle, her above him, fingers digging into his white shoulders as he gripped bronzed arms.
She saw him speaking before she heard the words, pale lips making shadows on her skin, writing sacred oaths into her surface before sending them deep into her bloodstream where they'd curl around her heart and never leave.
"Blood of my blood. Heart's blood. Life's blood. My blood. Mine, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond." Spike's head was poised, waiting.
Of course. Vows are not one-sided, not if you do it right. "Blood of my blood. Heart's blood. Life's blood. My blood. Yours, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond." Buffy bent to bite, and he stopped her, a frantic shake of his head.
"What?" she whispered. "What'd I do wrong?"
"Nothing. Only- you have to do it, too. I don't own you. You don't own me. We're a set. Light an' dark, Slayer."
She got it. Right. "Blood of my blood, Spike. William. Heart's blood. Life's blood. My blood. Mine, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond."
The electricity ran up his spine and into fangs that emerged without thought, "Yours! Yes, Blood of my blood. Heart's blood, life's blood, my blood. Yours, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond, Slayer, Buffy!"
"Our circle be unbroken," she licked her teeth. Something would be different this time.
"She in me and me in she." His hand gripped the back of her head harder than customary, tension and excitement giving him strength he hadn't called on in years.
"Forever."
"Eternally."
"Two as one." They spoke the words and lived them, two voices eerily, sweetly reflecting each other, as one.
"I love you." That wasn't in the vows. He knew that. Had to say it.
"I love you, too." That was truth. It belonged in her wedding vows.
"Now?" It wasn't just a question if she were ready.
Which she understood. "And forever."
Snick - snap. Plunge, hiss. Her teeth sliced into his skin, piercing scars and breaking vessels.
His fangs went in high on her breast, his head bowed at an incline so her own dipped head could find his mark and put hers over it. Drank from her deep, just over the heart, and pushed her off balance, both of them flailing and falling apart at the bite- both lips stained red as they kissed and he slid on top of her.
Made her mine. Then in her, all the way, sharp and hard at once, unable to keep away anymore.
Buffy let out a long, low moan as he filled her, entered her deep and fully, one long pump that made her walls spasm painfully as they adjusted.
All his. Both parts, because he was right, in so deep, I'm splitting. She had this thought as she felt waves of strain and pleasure coursing through her, that turned all to pleasure as she watched him writing above her, panting and gasping like he couldn't find words. Couldn't breathe. Drowning in her.
She found the words. Found the air. "Breathe for you. Heart beats for you. All of me, for you."
"All of me, for you." He lifted his head from where it had bowed, smiling into her eyes. "God, you feel amazing. Feel so tight and hot, Slayer." He had expected to have this huge, blinding satisfaction because he was bedding a human, so much hotter, wetter, tighter. Yeah, there was that, but more importantly- it was her. My girl. My bride. "Most beautiful, tightest, hottest little body…" he pushed against her, jaw clenched as her walls had a brief tug of war between repelling him and accepting him.
"That would be the fact that you're really huge." Buffy shifted. "Not complaining. Just… not used to it." It must be the muscley-ness of Spike. It extends to the pelvic region. Riley is taller. And Angel- Spike shifted in her and she blotted out all other faces. "Oh fuck, Spike…" she let out a ragged sound of pleasure. There was no way he could fail to make her cum, repeatedly. There was no room in her to avoid him pressing against every cluster of nerves, every hidden spot that gave pleasure. Even her opening, stretched so tight around him, seemed to tingle in a good way, a good burn.
"Fuck Spike? That's reserved for my wife." Spike revelled in the word. Saying it. She is now. "You are now. Ha. Mine."
"Ha. Mine!" she countered, and nipped his shoulder blade and they grappled as he began to move in and out, slowly at first, watching her little gasps of sensation, not pain.
"It's not that I'm big. Well, not out of the -"
"Don't you dare try to be humble. It doesn't work on you," Buffy groaned, hips rocking up.
"It's that you're so fucking tight. Muscles on you- you could make me pop in three seconds, if you wanted to."
"I'll try that sometime. But not now." Buffy captured his lips. "For now…"
He understood. For now, no more words were needed.
Buffy hazily thought that Spike had been right. He'd said he would touch her deep, where no one else could. It wasn't sheer size or depth. It was the feeling of being his. When he moved her body, or she moved his, it felt natural, easy. Perfect. Two as one. She seemed to know what to do or what he wanted to do before he did it.
He plastered himself to her and rutted inside her, harder, harder, letting her silk wrap around him, her skin and her slick wet walls. Caution was gone. This wouldn't hurt either of them. He let out a little growl and bit down with blunt teeth, nipples captured and peaked until she squeezed his cock with pulsing walls, fluttering in orgasm.
She pushed him to his back, one hand on his throat, the other on his chest, nails digging in, scraping skin, making him arch up into her.
Buffy looked down at him, his mouth open, eyes half-closed with pleasure and effort. He reached up and traced her face and she snared his fingertips with her panting lips as they passed, tongue flicking over the pads of his fingers. "Cum in me," she urged.
"Not yet," Spike gasped back, but his cock throbbed and swelled at the thought.
"In so deep." Her head tipped back. She must look quite the picture, Buffy thought, straddling him, head thrown to the sky, hips circling on him. Riding him. Fucking him until this bed can't take it. Until I can't take it.
"Harder, please, Luv." He wanted every bit of that power. "Give it back to you, give as good as I get…"
She settled herself forward, watching the spasms of near-orgasm clench his jaw. "Gonna make you cum in me. I already came on you."
"Felt that. Love that feeling." Her little pussy bucked and squeezed and shook- surprised her as much as him. No one ever fucked her properly before, but don't think it would matter if they had. She wouldn't have let herself go, not like she does with me. Safe with me.
"You can feel it again in a second." Buffy crashed forward, spine suddenly needing to for leverage. Her hips had to pound his, to give him what he wanted. To get what she wanted. "Listen to you," Buffy marveled, struggling to find air for words. All pants and purrs, moaning her name under his struggle for unneeded breath.
"Unh!" He didn't need air, still couldn't speak.
He grunted sharply before the sound turned into a pained growl. She felt his tip expand just a fraction, but it sent her shaking over the edge, knowing she was about to be filled. "Love you," she whispered in his ear- and then bit savagely on the bruised skin of his neck.
Fucking fireworks, Spike let out a hoarse groan and slammed his hands to her hips, holding her writhing pussy in place as he spilled inside, long, painfully hard bursts while he was trapped inside her. "Love you." she didn't release him from her body.
Aftershocks shook her and he soothed her, warm hands kneading comfortingly on her tender waist.
"Here, Baby. Lemme-"
"Stay in for a minute." She gave him a saucey look as he began to move.
"Don't even think I need a minute." Spike remained hard, though less so. "I'll stay inside, Precious. But you need looking after. You did all the work at the end."
"Not so sure about that, but you looking after me is a good thing."
Back over top of her, Spike suddenly noticed something. The room seemed- different? "Luv- we-"
Buffy looked around. The bed was several feet lower. "Did we break the bed?"
"Nah. Just made it easier to reach the floor," Spike kidded. He was glad he'd paid in cash and hadn't bothered with a proper name and address, of course.
"Oops."
"Glad we didn't break your bed. Or mine. Better get some more energy out- but it can come out slowly this time, yeah? Softer. Sorry, Pet, should the first time have been softer?" Spike belatedly wondered. He kissed her sweating hairline, hugged her up close, moving in her again. Their bodies made a wet, slick sound, proof of their enjoyment, and she hid her brow on his collarbone. "Oh, Precious… I'll make this time -"
"It was perfect. Perfect and hot and yummy. I want to do that forever- but softer is nice, too. Slower." Buffy looked up at him with lazy eyes and cheeks aglow from rushing blood and exertion, feeling the movements of him inside of her, losing the thread of where he ended and she began.
After several moments of gentle stroking, they both seemed to move into a faster pace, mutually agreeing without discussing.
"What time is check out?" Buffy suddenly asked as they shifted positions once again. This time, face to face on their sides, hands twined on pillows as her legs wrapped around his hips.
"I dunno. I only worried about check-in," Spike panted. Too busy worryin' about gettin' her here, not takin' her away. One day, take her someplace properly away, see the world, plenty of nasties to kill along the way...But maybe she wants to get home. Check on Finn. Check in with what the hell time it is? Is it night? "We can leave whenever you want to."
"Oh no, I'm in no hurry to go. I just realized- we could go for a very, very long time."
"Well, we will, Luv. You an' me go on forever." He took a finger, ran it over the last trickle of blood from the scored, torn skin she left on his throat. Fine line, red ring, and he traced the little crimson trail around her left ring finger. "Mine."
"Yours."
She found the more free-flowing font of her own blood across her breast and made the same circle on him. "I was worried I didn't have a ring for you. But, here we go. We have all we need. Literally. There." She closed the circle with a kiss on his knuckles. "Mine."
"Yours."
The newlyweds slid their hands back together, foreheads bowing, lips meeting as they made love. Neither one noticed that their "rings" slowly sank into their skin, a permanent, invisible sign of their union.
To be continued…
Hi Readers, Vampire in Vegas has a smutty sequel, Vampire in Vegas: Quartet by S.C. Principale. (It's a short story, but about twice as long as the first.) I hope if you enjoyed the first one, you'll check this out! It's free with Kindle Unlimited and cheap if not. Also, a CrossRealms: Encounters story is coming out in a couple weeks. Thank you all for the support. You make my day!
