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: All the people who are reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing in the fandom world and all of those who are helping with the "real world" writing and publishing, too!

XXXIII

He shifted in his dirt. Something felt off. Not the soft, fragrant earth itself. That was essential to life, to his power, the soil of his homeland, a blessing laid on him by the tribes he protected. As long as you rest your head in the bosom of your motherland, you shall have the protection of our magic…

He didn't feel powerful. That was what was wrong. He was always powerful. He had killed his sire upon waking, made his empire legend, made his name awed, admired, and feared.

People wouldn't fear him properly if they knew that his power was in flux, if they knew that he'd let the Slayer live for so long. If they ever found out that she'd outwitted him, if only temporarily.

"I'm leaving later tonight."

His brides looked up at him and nodded as one. Such uniform obedience used to please him, the questioning in their eyes masking fear, that was a delight, especially when it turned to worshipfulness as he ran a hand lingeringly over the back of one's neck, the cheek of the next, and pressed a kiss to the forehead of the third.

"Katerina," he addressed the third in a voice heavy with magic. "You have served me so well. So faithfully."

"My Lord's pleasure is mine," she replied huskily, leaning into him.

Yes, it would be, one last time before he left. "But I must take the Slayer to further my kingdom, a glorious kingdom that you will forever be a part of, one of my own dear Children, if no longer my Bride."

A spark of sadness and confusion, stiffening in all three bodies, then two relaxed. "Master?"

"You are such a gift. You will make Gregor very happy and he will treat you as his queen, you will be his only one, you understand?"

"But… I was to be yours. Eternally," Katerina said faintly.

"And you will be. My Childe, if not my Bride. Always welcome." He kissed her neck above the place where he'd marked her, taken her life, and claimed her. "You deserve to shine, yes?"

"My light is to reflect yours," she protested desperately, hands digging deeper into his shirt.

He would miss this one. So passionate. Her dark hair, her quick responses, her emotions, while controlled by his, were still powerful. She possessed a personality that didn't completely dull over time, like so many others- necessitating new wives, new thrills. She reminded him of Daniela. So many things reminded him of Daniela. He tried to tell himself that such comparisons were natural. You live with a woman for centuries, it becomes natural to think of her often, to see reminders of her everywhere.

"Come, show me your light." He led her to his chamber, the bed like a masterpiece of burgundy and blood red velvet beside the lux box ornately carved and filled with dirt. One must live up to one's name, after all.

She obeyed eagerly, fervently, passionately, clothes off and hands gliding over full breasts and generous hips, worshipping him with her mouth and her soft opening, panting his name and moaning for him. "Please…"

"You do please me," he praised, taking her slowly, unrushed. She pleased him more than the other two, but that would be advantageous in the long run. He'd have to get used to trading two out frequently.

The Slayer must be kept forever. Once turned, she must never die that second death, their bond must never break, because if it did, he'd lose the power he gained from her. After a few decades of showing her off at parties and having her on his arm as his willing queen at important functions in the demon world, proof that he owned the Slayer- he'd have to keep her carefully locked away, in a place no one could reach her. Eventually someone would figure out that killing her would mean a way to kill him and so…

"One of the others, my Lord? They haven't been by your side as long as I have," Katerina rode him, begging, tempting, her lips against his skin as her head bowed to his.

"No, it must be you. They'll go, soon enough. It's time for new things. Unless you'd like another option? The sun is high…"

"No!"

"Gregor will cherish you. You like him, don't you?"

She didn't nod or disagree.

"Don't you?" he insisted, the knife subtly working deeper.

"My heart is yours."

"You wouldn't want to make me unhappy?" His hand found her hair, yanked it roughly, pulling her underneath him and changing the pace from languorous to savage.

"Never, Master!"

"Good. Then I will leave tonight and Gregor will come to collect you. You will give him every loyalty and respect, as he is one of my favored sons."

A tremble, eyes blinking back tears of confusion and pain. "Yes, Master."

"Let's make this last time memorable, shall we?"

Hmmm. Some vampires relished the taste of pain. Fear. So many overlooked the lovely bouquet, the complex flavor of misery and heartbreak.

She fell asleep holding his hand, in his bed. Chekov's battered work lay between them. His glasses were crooked and his leg hung haphazardly across his suitcase that had never been pushed to the floor.

Hatred. She tried to channel it at the sleeping human. Then herself. It had never been easy to direct it toward its true source.

Dracul.

"Ow!" Wesley woke to a sudden crushing sensation in his hand.

"Oh! Je suis désolé!" Daniela gasped an apology and let go of his fingers hastily.

"No, no." Wesley reclaimed her hand with his bruised one. "You owe me a lot more than that."

"Perhaps."

Things were still strained between them. But they woke up together, in the same bed. He looked at her with the same sort of longing as before, only deeper.

"The jet leaves in four hours. Would you- would you still like to come?" he asked softly.

"I have to pack." She rose by way of an answer. "Stefan and Mia will be here to drive us and see us off."

Wesley, who had sat up hastily, now fell back, looking utterly wretched. "Ohhh," he groaned. "I did exactly what I promised them I wouldn't do."

Daniela hesitated at the door. "We won't tell them we've had a quarrel," she said softly.

He sprang back up as if he was spring loaded. A quarrel? Was that how she would classify his horrible deception, his betrayal? "That's far too generous."

"I am generous."

"Yes, you are. That's the heart of you. Your love for things. You want to give so much, feel so much." To make up for years when you couldn't have what you wanted most? Years when your feelings were faded and buried?

She turned back to him. Her robe was loosely knotted, showing a long line of flesh from thigh to collarbone, nothing he hadn't seen in great detail, and while seductive, not immodest. "I'm a demon. I want to take so much as well."

"Ah. Well, that's suitable. Equal. One to give so much and take so much." He got to his feet, a trifle unsteadily.

"Equals again?" She let him approach, up to arm's length. This hadn't happened before, either. Once she and a lover fought, she didn't see them again. Those delightfully tacky women's magazines that extolled the virtues of reconcilliation sex were disregarded by her, for there should be no man you care enough about to forgive once he's hurt you. Forgive for annoying or mildly inconveniencing, yes, but hurting? No. Move on, find more sex with a side of supper.

"If you'll let me try, yes. Equals, again."

Harsh realities time. "I'm immortal. Inhuman. You will never be my equal."

He smiled crookedly. "I'm human. Finite. You will never be my equal, either. We are what we are. I wasn't speaking of things we can't change."

"What do you speak of?" She liked this Wesley. One who challenged a little and yielded much, always gracefully.

"Love. Respect. Friendship. Honesty- from here on out."

Such delicious words for a hungry heart. "Honesty. Hm. Have you and the dear friend, Cordelia, ever been lovers?" she assuaged her jealous curiosity first.

"No! Oh no. We kissed once. No, twice. But the once, she was just checking to see if she'd received demonic visions- it's a long story."

"It's a long enough flight." She turned to leave.

"Ah ah," he tapped her shoulder, even though he'd much rather have grabbed her hand and held it tight. "Why did you ask?"

Damn him. "She's pretty. She's human, like you. She texts you frequently, you work with her, and you call her when you're sad. Jealousy." She shrugged the horrid word out uncomfortably.

He leaned closer. "I don't even know who Jaques and Fabian are, but when I see their names scrawled on the bags in the fridge, I see red. And not because it's blood."

She let out a single yip of laughter. "And yet, you were telling me I needn't bother the butcher."

He flushed. "I have no right to see you go hungry and I can't give you all of mine- even if I enjoy how you collect it."

"You would let me be with others?"

His jaw moved. "I wouldn't like it. I think it would kill me, but…"

She smiled. Jealousy, when it's equal, was suddenly warming. "Animal is fine. With a side of Sorcerer."

His eyes lit up, eager and bright. "Still?"

Oh. She hadn't realized how it sounded.

"Not yet. S-someday. Perhaps," he amended quickly.

"Yes."

"I know it will take time. I can wait."

Only, really, he can't wait nearly as long as you, Daniela realized with a sudden pang. His life was a third over. She had already outlived him, many times over. "I need a bath before the flight."

"I won't keep you." He held the door for her.

She walked ahead of him to her door, paused at its opening and dropped her robe.

Wesley's mouth dried out. It didn't matter if he'd seen those same slender legs and lush curves before. He had a feeling he would always find himself entranced by her, staring like a schoolboy with his heart performing the Anvil Chorus against his ribs.

She entered the room and kept her door open. "Sorcerer? Are you coming?"

Wesley had never moved so fast in his life.

Riley had never moved so slowly in all of his life. Traffic jams were against him. His phone never stopped ringing, then buzzing, and finally flashing as he turned the ringer down, then off. He met his reflection in the rental car's rearview mirror and winced. Black circles. Gray skin. Limp hair. He looked more dead than that thing Buffy was using.

All the things Buffy was using. She even used him, played him all this time, and he let her get away with it.

She'd probably been under their control, since the first one. That had to be it. It wasn't normal for a demon hunter to have this sick fascination with them, this unholy affection. First Angel, then Dracula, now Spike. That's why this whole thing was so simple and she had snowed everyone into thinking it was hard.

Kill all the vampires. That was her job, his job. Kill all the vampires. They weren't that hard to kill if you didn't care about the mess. Burning houses down seemed effective.

If other people were in them, so what?

Except for Buffy. He had to get her out so he could make sure she was okay. That she could see them burning, realize what he 'd saved her from.

Speaking of burning… Riley ignored the deep, stinging pain in his chest and rivulets of sweat running down his face and down his back. Probably skipped a dose of pills, he thought, looking at his face in the mirror. He ignored the spark in his eyes, the glint of fever or madness.

Willow's eyes sparkled with suppressed glee. "First, show me the pendant."

"What? Oh." Spike felt under his shirt and revealed the crystal on its knotted cord, in the same state as it had been received. "Intact. Still usin' my darkness for good."

"It'll take time, but if we have a couple of hours- I'm pretty sure I can get the chip out." She hesitated. Tara told her she couldn't try this alone. It was too dangerous, and pulling on that much elemental magic was risky, both for depleting your own energy, and because you could create an elemental imbalance. She recalled the barbeque turned inferno turned torrential rain that she'd used only a few weeks ago, just a few days before all this Dracula hell started.

"Painlessly? No melted Spike-face?" Buffy asked anxiously.

"Not painlessly, exactly," Willow hedged, "but not melted. Look." Willow sat with Buffy and Spike on the floor in front of Giles' sofa.

"Wait! Is that the melting coin spell that ruined my staircase?" Giles charged in.

"No! Well, technically yes, but I've been fixing it."

"Sure it hasn't fixed you, Red?" Spike found himself steadying his sister- dammit, his friend- dammit again- the witch as she swayed when leaning forward. "You smell about a pint light."

"You can smell that?" Buffy demanded.

"It's a guess." Spike shrugged. He flashed her a look that she couldn't read, but she knew was private and significant.

"I'm not- a pint light. Maybe a few tablespoons," Willow said defensively. "Buffy, you have to let me do this!"

"Not all at once, right?" Spike asked with a shrug.

Buffy smacked her hand to his head. "Do vampires have fevers? You've been trying to get that chip out since the second it went in."

"Yeah, but- maybe there's some upsides to bein' claimed by a Slayer. Feel stronger. Maybe I could fight the bastard off if he tried anything." His eyes shifted to hers and away.

Like, maybe if you're immortal, you'll be fine.

Buffy shifted to Giles, then rapidly turned away. She wanted to tell him what Wesley said. She'd promised she would. But Giles wasn't an idiot. He'd connect pieces and start to wonder if Spike was now immortal and if Spike was immortal, maybe he would be considered a new threat, a threat that rested on her shoulders to dispatch or change- by letting him go in one way or another.

"What is it, Buffy?" Giles asked softly.

"I- uh- nothing."

"Oh, that's very convincing," Giles scoffed. "The 'father-of-the-bride' doesn't get to know?"

When she jumped guiltily, he connected the pieces. Maybe the wrong ones, but still. "Come here, dear."

Buffy followed him to the kitchen. She could hear Spike and Willow talking about something and then Spike yipped as if stuck by a pin and Willow yipped as well, in a different way, an apologetic noise. "I think she still has some work to do," Buffy whispered.

"Don't we all? Even your mother. She's thrown herself into this engagement party properly. I received my hand-delivered invitation this morning. Pink and silver. Very fetching,"

"Anya and Mom could open an event planning business on the side. In fact, that might be what happens, because Anya's all about using that back room of the gallery for little 'intimate soirees.'"

Giles and Buffy paused, both frowning. "Do you think she fully understands-"

"-that intimate means small and cozy, not just people doing- uh- yeah, I'm pretty sure she understands since she mentioned ordering folding tables and chairs, not beds." Buffy's face was going pale, then pink in rapid turns.

"Buffy, you can tell me. I think I already know," Giles said heavily.

"You do? What?"

"That you want to marry Spike in a literal way, a true ceremony."

"Oh."

He waited. She didn't speak again. In the silence, she heard Spike saying, "Tip your head right back and pinch hard, Red, there's the way. Oh, bugger, that houseplant's frosted right over."

Giles closed his eyes and supposed it was an act of folly to try to keep a houseplant alive on the Hellmouth. "I understand why you want to do that. The emotions you feel for him seem very-"

"Are very."

"-are very intense and yes, I understand he's not thralling you and you care about him. Love him. Marriage isn't to be rushed, even at the best of times, with two ordinary people. And you two are-"

"Freaks?"

"Extraordinary people." He smiled and shook his head. "It's not that I object- exactly. It's wiser to wait. If you feel this way once Dracula has released you and you break the hold with Spike, then I'll… Well, I'll support whatever you do."

Buffy hugged him impulsively. "Thank you! Only, there's a problem. A little problem. Or a big one. I'm not sure. I need to talk to Wesley, but his phone just rings and rings. But I don't think the Countess Lady ate him. I think he likes her. A lot." And he's hurting because of something between them. I hope it gets better soon.

"Another big problem? Wesley did call yesterday, fairly distracted."

"Dracula's ex told him something. Um. So, you know how sometimes there are these words that Spike and I want to say, but we don't fully get why we say them?"

"Yes, I believe you've mentioned it." And he'd seen it, felt it. "The old magic, it's connected to us. A primordial urge to-"

She knew she was being rude, but she didn't care. This was not the time for his big dusty-book talk. "There are vows. Like wedding vows, between vampires. More than just calling a person Kindred, or Yours and Mine."

It was his turn to pale. "Yes, but there are other things that must be done along with those words, correct?"

"Yep."

"And you've… done some of them?"

"Yep."

"How many of them?"

"How many are there?"

"I'm not sure."

"Giles, I love Spike."

"I - know that," he replied cautiously.

"He's wonderful to me and I'm wonderful to him."

And she glows when she admits it. She believes it. "It's been a miraculous few weeks."

"We both wanted to say the words. We both wanted to - um- consummate?" She winced.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then his lenses. "Natural, under the circumstances."

"You mean being in this weird Kindred binding thing?"

"No! Being in love. You didn't want to sleep with Dracula, did you?" Please say no, please say no…

"God, no! Ew! Ick and ew and guuuh. He's a jerk. Not even an honest jerk, a phony with a jerky center. Spike was obnoxious through and through."

"Oh, hark, such sweet lover's words," Spike sauntered in. "Rupes, you need more Kleenex. There some magical clottin' agent you know of?"

"I'll look into it. There's a box by my bed, be a good chap and get it and don't touch anything else up there."

"I promise not to look under the bed to see what you do with your free time," Spike snarked, then sighed. "Sorry. Out of line. God, this is irritatin'." He kissed Buffy's head and marched off, muttering under his breath about collared dogs and kibbles.

Giles looked at Buffy skeptically. "That's what you want to live with, until death you part, obnoxious and all?"

To his surprise, she put her hands over her mouth, eyes flooding. "Giles… Dracula wants to turn and claim a Slayer in the- in the big, permanent way because it will make him unkillable. If he does the full on bridal ceremony, blood, bodies, words, the Countess said he can never, ever be killed."

"Sweetheart, we are not going to let him get one manicured, pasty paw on- no? That's not it?" Giles was further flummoxed as Buffy shook her head, biting her lip. With only a slight hesitation, she barreled into him. She pressed her bowed head to his sternum, sobbing softly. "Buffy, what is it?"

"I love Spike. We- we made love and said the words, okay?"

Well, it was a bit of a jolt to hear her say the words bluntly, but he wasn't a fool, nor a pharaoh. He visited denial but it wasn't his permanent residence. "You're both adults. You became intimate, it was bound to feel natural or wanted."

She was grateful for his support and the lack of horrified gasping, but she wasn't through. "I think I might have made him more immortal. Unkillable."

That was a shock again, but the tear-stained face looking up at him demanded urgent attention. "Well- Ah. Well, that offers him some protection from Riley, surely?" he whispered faintly.

"I'm not sure. And Riley- Spike might not be able to die, but he could get hurt in horrible ways if he can't defend himself against Riley, and I know that sounds crazy to say, but this whole thing is crazy. Giles… I might have accidentally made it so that Spike exists forever- even when he's ancient and alone, when he wants to -" she took a steadying breath. "I know around here, the big focus is on not dying, but- Slayers have a death wish. We see so much death and dying, so much blood on our hands…" She stopped and looked at her own. "Not just the things we kill. The ones we didn't save from being killed. We live in the moments of fear and killing, stress and fighting, we exist in the blood cry," her voice softly echoed the First Slayer's. "It's hard and we get so tired. We look for a way out." She swallowed, unable to meet his eyes. Had he known? Was this like those tests when a Slayer makes it to eighteen? Another thing that Watchers know and expect and don't fess up about? She didn't want to believe Giles wouldn't have helped her, wouldn't have warned her. "I was starting to feel that ache, and Spike pushed it back. I want to do the same for him. If I'm not around, wh-what'll happen to him?" her voice wobbled at the end.

His lips thinned. "A blessing and a curse." He ran his hands slowly up and down her arms, steadying her. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I- don't know what other Slayers have felt. All we have is Watchers' Diaries to guide us and Watchers are…" he trailed off.

"Tweedy?" she snuffled.

"Watchers don't often get very close to their Slayers. That's why, until you threatened some sense into Travers, I wasn't your official Watcher. I wish you'd told me-"

"What would I have said? I'm depressed? You know what I do. You know how I feel about it." She looked at her hands again, fingers tightly knit, always trying to hold onto something, prevent herself from falling to pieces. Hate it. Love it. Sometimes I can laugh around here. I don't cry much anymore. I was getting numb inside. Probably easier for Drac to take over this brain, already starting to turn cold. "I don't know anyone around here who isn't depressed on some level, when they think about what we see, but somehow having you guys makes me laugh and go on. Spike even said that's what keeps me living. My family. My friends."

"Yes, and now he's among those."

"Both categories." Buffy smiled. Husband. Family. Kindred. Friend. Friend who makes me laugh. Who lets me cry. Who beats up stuff with me. She laughed for a second, then covered her mouth again. "Giles, we have to help him."

"We have to help you both. Now, look, Wesley has this information, but it sounds as if it's only a very roughshod description."

"I think he said there was more to tell, but he didn't feel well when he called."

"Yes, he seemed distracted and distracted people leave things out in their hurry. Now, I've never heard anything about a Slayer giving her blood and turning a demon immortal. Healing, yes, transforming, no. Not to be indelicate, but Spike's already killed two Slayers. He-"

"Wasn't 'married' to 'em," Spike's voice sighed its way into the conversation. "Tell her she's fretting over nothing, will you, Watcher?"

"Jerk," Buffy hissed, but slid under his arm easily. "If Wesley thought he had to call me, it was urgent and not nothing."

"If you release each other from this bond -"

"NO!" Spike and Buffy shouted as one.

Giles stopped. Willow staggered in. "We need more plantain weed," she said softly, holding up an empty envelope, formerly filled with the sacred ashes used for the absence of the sensation spell. "I definitely need Tara. She was right. She likes being right." The redhead smiled woozily. "I'll buy you a new plant. And make cookies."

"Never mind the plant and the baked goods. But yes, Tara would likely be helpful." Giles took the envelope.

"And she'd better move a damn sight quicker," Spike grumbled. "When they say three minutes, those Latin blokes mean it." He rubbed a sore spot on the back of his skull.

Willow nodded, wiping her nose and looking afresh at the three people in the kitchen. "Why's everyone upset? I promise, that scratch on your stairs will buff right out, Giles."

"I-" Buffy's voice froze in her throat, thick and cold. I want to tell Willow everything. We grew apart before, but she's been on my side this whole time. She won't judge us. I guess. I just… "I'm in love with Spike."

"That's - uh- okay, but shouldn't that be a good thing?" Willow asked cautiously, wondering about blood loss and if she was hallucinating a little.

"It's a bit tricky, Red." Spike pressed his arm to Buffy's side and she fell silent.

"Right. Because you can't tell if it's the Kindred thing or the real thing?"

"No, because the Kindred thing makes you see what's real when you aren't tricked into doing it in the first place. You can be forced into it, kind of numb and hypnotized, or it can give you blinding clarity. I think… I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Buffy looked up at Spike, brow furrowed slightly. "All of my lives."

Giles' eyes suddenly connected with Spike's and he saw that same helpless, desperate look that he'd just seen in Buffy's in Spike's icy blue. We have to help her.

Half of Spike wanted to crow. Yes! Someone who chose him permanently, always, in all things. And the part of him that had learned to love with a deeper level of unselfishness whispered aloud, "Slayer, maybe you oughta think about what you're sayin'. Makin' another rash decision won't help you in the long run."

"You are my long run! I'm yours!"

Giles cut the angry, tearful retort off with a hand on her shoulder. "Making an uninformed choice is ill-advised as well. Wesley arrives in California tonight, I believe. We'll have him provide some more information if he has it. I'll grind up some plantain weed- oh, I'm out. Willow?"

"Tara and I will get some. What should we do in the meantime?"

Giles looked at Buffy, dejected, and Spike, angry. She still wouldn't let go of his hand, and he was still cupping her cheek, thumb stroking soothing circles on it. "Practice."

"I like him. I know I've called him a bunch of names and tried to murder him a few times, but your old man is bloody brilliant." Spike bounced on the balls of his feet, energized.

Buffy smiled. She had to admit that fighting with Spike, not that he could actually harm her, was fun. They practiced all kinds of moves on Giles' poor practice dummy, which was now no more, and then on a half-dozen unsuspecting vampires. "I think we're getting good at that two-for-one special." That was her nickname for the staking-slash-decapitation that they were mastering. They took it in turns, one to get the chest, one to get the head. It was gross and over the top for run of the mill vamps, but totally necessary when they confronted Dracula. Although, Giles' next suggestion was grosser.

Spike wasn't bothered by it. "Carnage, Pet. Get a taste for it if you're a certain sorta vamp." Which he was. Had been. Whatever, it was good to get a chance to do the dirty on someone for a good cause. The best of both worlds, really. "I'll do the hands."

"But what if you can't? What if he's facing me, or you're too far back when I have him in the best spot?"

"Then you have to. For me," he backed her suddenly into the door of her dorm room, pressing his lips into her neck, "for me, you can do it. Just like I can do anything for you. Give up all my killin', 'cept in service to the good. An' I don't even mind. In fact, I like it. I think… think Mum would be proud of me. Proud of you. Think she'd tell me I've brought her the daughter she coveted." His voice shook ever so slightly under his broad, devil may care smile.

Buffy's smile broke completely, first with moved tears, and then with horror. "Oh no. No, Spike! Your mother- she's dead."

He looked stunned. "Buffy, did you kosh your head on something?"

"No, Spike, like, she's in the afterlife. Her soul is in heaven or at least some sort of peaceful resting place like heaven and if I made you immortal you'll never be able to- oh, I guess your soul is there, too?" It didn't seem right. This person in front of her- he didn't seem soulless at all. Compassionate, loving, funny, bitter, sharp- utterly human, without a human soul. "Are you sure you don't have a soul?"

"I don't have my human soul. That was all William, a life force, and it died with that mortal man. The demon entered in, but it left all my mind and heart and thoughts, I 'spose. It's not a bad bloke, really, aside from the taste for violence."

Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. It took an effort to free it, but the words came out. "I like him. I do. He's a great guy. Good husband. He, which is you. Don't you- wanna see your mom again, though?"

"Yeah, sure I do. But I'm all right if I don't. She and William will rest in that pretty cloud of cherubs and sunlight. I'll send my demon after you. You're what I want, what I can't exist without."

His demon. My soul. Could we go to the same places? A little prickle of hope and excitement ran up her spine. "Spike. Kindred, to a second life and beyond- beyond that second life, there must be a second death, right? What else is after life but well, the afterlife?"

"That sounds off, even for you. Lemme see your pupils," Spike tried to grab his bride by the arm as she pushed off of his chest and began to pace excitedly.

"What if Kindred means that as long as you both live, you're bound to each other, but after you do die, whatever makes you immortal, that stuff that is 'beyond life'- what if that gets to stay together too? The vow says it."

She had no research. Hadn't cracked the books or interrogated the Watcher Jr. nor his new bird. But she had the best wits of them all, the best gut instincts. He trusted her. He felt excited, too, cautiously hopeful. "That'd make sense, Luv, since vamps are the ones who claim and we're already immortal in some way. I don't know of any vamps who snuffed it at the same time as their lovers, claimed pairs. If one dies, the bond breaks."

"Is there- do you think there's a way to bind souls together? My soul, to your demon?"

"Buffy- you can't want that. Think, demons are from the hell dimensions. You'd end up-"

"Yes! Yes, I can. I don't care if we go to some hell or heaven or place in between, if we could still be together, even if we're the only ones in there- I think- I think I wouldn't be scared of dying, or turning, or living forever, whatever it means, as long as I have you."

He could swear his heart was beating. Something was filling up his chest with a warmth, something made him alive again. 'Cause I could live for her, live one more time, live forever, go out now, if she goes with me. "All right, Pet. We'll figure out the riddle they set us. One thing at a time. First things first?"

If Spike encourages patience and methodically planning? Time to listen. "Right, wait until Wesley gets here."

"That's on the list for later, not now. He's probably already here, but he might be preoccupied." He smirked.

"So what's for now?" Her lip rolled teasingly between her teeth, eyes bewitching him. She leaned into him, her neck tilted invitingly, lids flickering as he let out a rumble that indicated lust and contentment.

Her eyes flew open wide as he whispered, "Think I'm gonna put down a deposit on a flat for us tomorrow while you're in class. Man and wife oughta have a home of their own, don't you think? Especially with," his hands caressed her hips and his fangs slowly escaped their hiding place, "you and me getting up to some particularly intimate things."

Buffy sighed deeply, her fingers tangling in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, fingers trailing up, spiking stiff hair which made it much less stiff and inversely seemed to make other parts of him way more spike-like. Why had she ever bothered about worrying when there was this person, this other half of her, finally making her whole? His tongue did its sinful dance across the part of her that throbbed in time with a much lower, wetter place.

"This is paradise," he licked a salty sweet trail downward. "My paradise."

"Mmm," she agreed, happily going limp. Then her eyes popped open, a quizzical frown on her face. "Hey. An apartment? Tomorrow? What things?"

His head was burrowing into her shirt, tongue and teeth pulling at her breast through fabric as her spine decided the battle was lost. They toppled to the floor, hands pulling up shirts and pushing down zippers.

"Ohhh. Never mind. Tell me in a little bit."

To be continued…

Author's End Note: If anyone is interested in checking out new pieces I have coming out, I'd love to share! All things are free on Kindle Unlimited or cheap if not. Most of my works are inspired by our favorite blondies and company ;) S. on Amazon or will give you updates :)