A/N-The last uh, ½ of this chapter might be considered NC-17.
I just want to thank everybody for your amazing feedback. You guys are the
greatest.
Chapter 9
"What's happening to me?" Buffy asked Giles quietly. She was sitting on his couch, staring blankly at him. He was sitting beside her, holding one of her hands, watching her intently.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
"Yesterday before I went to patrol, I yelled at Willow. I felt bad about it, and then it seemed like I felt bad about every harsh word I've ever said to anybody. And after last year, I had a lot to feel sorry for. It almost overwhelmed me, but then it was over as soon as it happened.
"Then that night I stopped at Spike's crypt. Then, just like earlier that day, all these feelings completely overwhelmed me."
"Sad ones?" Giles asked, concerned.
Buffy shook her head, "No. Love, pleasure, happiness. I relived every happy moment of my life. Well, that's what it felt like anyway. When it finally stopped, all I could do was lay there, unable to move or think.
"Then today when you found me, I was almost insane with anger. I don't even think anger is an appropriate word. The feelings were so intense. I swear I almost killed Quentin."
Giles didn't blame her, but he could tell that she was extremely serious about her desire to murder the man.
"What do you feel now?"
"Nothing," she said simply.
"I feel completely lost here, Buffy," Giles admitted. "I don't know what's going on, what more you can expect. And I don't think Travers knows what's going on either. I think he has spent so much time covering up the truth that he can't even find it himself."
"Spike is looking."
"You think he'll find something?"
Buffy nodded. "You know how he is Giles. I mean, he found the Gem of Amara, you know, the gem that nobody believed existed? If someone knows the truth, if someone knows what's going on, he'll find it."
"Sometimes I think we under-estimate him," Giles said. "I was thinking about him the other day while I was researching a few demons, and it occurred to me that we've never ran across a demon he didn't recognize."
Buffy shrugged, "It was probably his job as the Big Bad to know all the other nasties around."
"He knows all their languages as well."
"What's your point, Giles?"
"My point is, is that he's more than muscle. He's smart, Buffy."
"You regret not utilizing his brains before now?"
"A little. I am relieved he's helping us. You're right. If someone knows what's going on, Spike will find him. Or it. Do you want me to take you home?"
"Yeah, I guess. Giles? Can you take everybody out somewhere tonight? I just need some alone time. The house has been so full of noise lately."
Giles smiled, "Yeah, I'll get them out of your hair for a couple of hours."
"How has Willow been? Since she did the magic?"
"She's good. She won't lose control again," Giles promised, "She has discipline now."
"I'm kinda worried about her. Especially since she has thrown herself into research, practically moving back into my house. I'm really glad she's there, and I'm thankful for her help, but I can't help but being.."
"Concerned?"
"Yeah."
Giles offered Buffy her coat. "Come on, let's get you home."
***
Spike carefully laid his duster on the ground, over his shoes and his pile of the clothing. He took a blanket and laid it on the ground next to the roaring fire. He took the small bag of roots and incense out of his coat pocket and threw a handful into the fire and dusted the rest around his blanket.
He felt like a ball of nerves. He hated using magic. He didn't trust magic, and he knew that magic always had a price. But the old woman known to him simply as "mum" told him the best way to find these answers was to do a summoning.
"A summoning of what, mum?"
"Here, you'll need these. This slip of paper has the instructions on it. Don't lose it. Go out, to the desert. Do it tonight."
"Will I find the answers?"
"Maybe, William, maybe."
Spike was not looking forward to this. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew exactly who or what he was inviting into this dimension. But all he had was the vague assurances of an old woman and the driving force in his gut to save Buffy. That would have to be enough.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he sat on the blanket cross-legged. His white body shimmered and reflected the light and heat from the fire. His front was illuminated with golden light, his back was silver in the moonlight. He sat half in the world of light, half in dark, naked, as vulnerable and open as a man could be.
Before chanting the magical words could be intoned, he concentrated on finding Buffy. She was asleep. He wondered briefly why she wasn't patrolling, but then dismissed it when he realized it was time to start.
Spike began chanting the words in monotone, relaxing his body, and forcing his mind to open. The words became a mantra and he lost himself in the steady rhythm of his own deep voice.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT DEMON?"
A voice boomed into the empty night, jerking Spike's open. Hovering above the fire, dimming the light of the roaring flames, was a large, pulsating ball of white energy. There was no form, and Spike couldn't tell if the voice was masculine or feminine. It didn't matter.
Never one to beat around the bush, Spike jumped right to the point. "What's wrong with the Slayer?"
"SHE'S MEETING HER DESTINY."
"Her destiny? But she died."
"SHE WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO RETURN DEMON. IT WAS PART OF HER JOURNEY."
"Why?"
"SHE WOULDN'T BE STRONG ENOUGH OTHERWISE."
Spike was beginning to feel real fear. The Powers that Be never, ever volunteered Information freely, yet here was this being, telling a worthless demon about the Slayer's destiny.
"Does she need me?"
"YES."
"What is it? What is this thing inside of her?"
"LILITH WAS NOT THE FIRST VAMPIRE. LILITH WAS THE FIRST EVERYTHING. FIRST DEMON. FIRST HUMAN. FIRST MURDERER. FIRST VICTIM. FIRST SOUL."
"I don't understand. Is she a Goddess?"
"YES."
"And now she's in Buffy? Is Buffy now a deity?"
"SHE IS A GODDESS OF LIGHT. THIS IS HER DESTINY."
"What about me?"
"YOU MUST FIND YOUR WAY TO HER."
"What? How?"
But it was over. Spike could still see the hovering light in the air as it slowly dissipated, but he knew that he would receive no more answers. If Lilith was a goddess, why did he need to take part of her? How could even begin to be worthy of that? He was an unclean thing.
Spike passed out onto the blanket, completely oblivious to the world around him, the dying fire, or the howling coyotes. He lay sprawled, unmoving, looking very much like the corpse he was.
***
Buffy sat straight up in bed, breathing hard, terrified. She looked around her room, straining her eyes into the shadows, for signs of dangers. She listened intently for sounds of trouble, but all she heard was the steady breathing and heartbeat of her sister and friends.
She glanced at the clock. Only one hour left until dawn. She reached for Spike and felt him sleeping. No, he wasn't sleeping. He was unconscious. An hour before dawn.
Buffy felt an almost helpless terror at the thought. What if he was outside? What if he didn't wake up in time? What if he died in some god- forsaken back ally, drunk off his ass, or beat almost to death?
She had to think of a way to wake him up. She knew she could feel everything he did from sleeping to eating, laughing to growling, pleasure and pain. She clutched the sheet, that's it. That's how she would wake him up. She knew from notes that he wrote that he could feel her pleasuring herself.
She made sure her bedroom was locked, opened the window so the clean night breeze could cool her flushed skin, then stripped off her nightgown. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail, then stretched out on top of her blankets.
She knew she had to hurry, each minute brought Spike closer to a fiery death, but she also knew that this had to be good enough to wake him up. It had to be earth shattering.
Buffy started by rubbing the bite marks on her neck. They were still extremely sensitive, and she closed her eyes, pretending her gentle fingers belonged to Spike. Rubbing the marks sent shivers across her body and jolts of pleasure to her groin. Her fingers moved lower, brushing across her nipples until they were hard. She licked one finger and rubbed the tip of her nipple softly, making her moan.
She gave each nipple a good pinch. With one hand she continued to caress her nipples, with the other she moved lower, across her abdomen. It felt good, but it felt better when she closed her eyes and focused on Spike. She wanted him so bad that her longing intensified, yet distracted from, her pleasure.
One small finger slid between her lips into her already wet pussy. She touched her clitoris gently, and her toes curled in response. Her body was so hungry for her touch that it seemed like years since her last orgasm, even though just the night before several had incapacitated her. She rubbed herself faster and faster, her hips jerking against her hand unconsciously.
Just when she felt her orgasm building, she stopped and slid two wet fingers all the way inside of her, pumping furiously. She gasped then put pressure on her G-spot, rubbing it hard and fast. Again she felt just mere seconds from orgasm when she stopped.
She slid her finger back up to her clit, and within minutes amazing spasms wracked her body, her clit pulsating, her muscles quivering. She forced herself not to call Spike's name, because in her mind he was touching her. He was taking care of her.
She pulled the blanket over herself, wanting to stay awake to make sure that Spike wakes up, but she just couldn't keep her eyes open. Soon she was drifting into a sweet dream involving Spike and chocolate syrup.
***
Spike felt himself being pulled from his deep sleep by lightning bolts of pleasure throughout his body. His cock throbbed in response, and his balls tightened and ached. He began rubbing himself as he slowly came awake, but stopped when he sensed out close dawn was.
He could practically smell the sun, and his eyes shot open. He was still lying naked in the desert, the fire just low embers, his clothes undisturbed next to him. The sky was turning purple with the first fingers of the sun. He quickly grabbed his clothes and sprinted to his Desoto.
He dove into the backseat and closed the door, relief washing over him. He barely missed the sun. Just a few more minutes and he would have been one crispy vampire. What had woke him up?
Buffy. Did she know he was in danger? He smiled at the thought. That was a great way to wake him up whether he was in danger or not. She could do that any time she wanted.
Chapter 9
"What's happening to me?" Buffy asked Giles quietly. She was sitting on his couch, staring blankly at him. He was sitting beside her, holding one of her hands, watching her intently.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
"Yesterday before I went to patrol, I yelled at Willow. I felt bad about it, and then it seemed like I felt bad about every harsh word I've ever said to anybody. And after last year, I had a lot to feel sorry for. It almost overwhelmed me, but then it was over as soon as it happened.
"Then that night I stopped at Spike's crypt. Then, just like earlier that day, all these feelings completely overwhelmed me."
"Sad ones?" Giles asked, concerned.
Buffy shook her head, "No. Love, pleasure, happiness. I relived every happy moment of my life. Well, that's what it felt like anyway. When it finally stopped, all I could do was lay there, unable to move or think.
"Then today when you found me, I was almost insane with anger. I don't even think anger is an appropriate word. The feelings were so intense. I swear I almost killed Quentin."
Giles didn't blame her, but he could tell that she was extremely serious about her desire to murder the man.
"What do you feel now?"
"Nothing," she said simply.
"I feel completely lost here, Buffy," Giles admitted. "I don't know what's going on, what more you can expect. And I don't think Travers knows what's going on either. I think he has spent so much time covering up the truth that he can't even find it himself."
"Spike is looking."
"You think he'll find something?"
Buffy nodded. "You know how he is Giles. I mean, he found the Gem of Amara, you know, the gem that nobody believed existed? If someone knows the truth, if someone knows what's going on, he'll find it."
"Sometimes I think we under-estimate him," Giles said. "I was thinking about him the other day while I was researching a few demons, and it occurred to me that we've never ran across a demon he didn't recognize."
Buffy shrugged, "It was probably his job as the Big Bad to know all the other nasties around."
"He knows all their languages as well."
"What's your point, Giles?"
"My point is, is that he's more than muscle. He's smart, Buffy."
"You regret not utilizing his brains before now?"
"A little. I am relieved he's helping us. You're right. If someone knows what's going on, Spike will find him. Or it. Do you want me to take you home?"
"Yeah, I guess. Giles? Can you take everybody out somewhere tonight? I just need some alone time. The house has been so full of noise lately."
Giles smiled, "Yeah, I'll get them out of your hair for a couple of hours."
"How has Willow been? Since she did the magic?"
"She's good. She won't lose control again," Giles promised, "She has discipline now."
"I'm kinda worried about her. Especially since she has thrown herself into research, practically moving back into my house. I'm really glad she's there, and I'm thankful for her help, but I can't help but being.."
"Concerned?"
"Yeah."
Giles offered Buffy her coat. "Come on, let's get you home."
***
Spike carefully laid his duster on the ground, over his shoes and his pile of the clothing. He took a blanket and laid it on the ground next to the roaring fire. He took the small bag of roots and incense out of his coat pocket and threw a handful into the fire and dusted the rest around his blanket.
He felt like a ball of nerves. He hated using magic. He didn't trust magic, and he knew that magic always had a price. But the old woman known to him simply as "mum" told him the best way to find these answers was to do a summoning.
"A summoning of what, mum?"
"Here, you'll need these. This slip of paper has the instructions on it. Don't lose it. Go out, to the desert. Do it tonight."
"Will I find the answers?"
"Maybe, William, maybe."
Spike was not looking forward to this. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew exactly who or what he was inviting into this dimension. But all he had was the vague assurances of an old woman and the driving force in his gut to save Buffy. That would have to be enough.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he sat on the blanket cross-legged. His white body shimmered and reflected the light and heat from the fire. His front was illuminated with golden light, his back was silver in the moonlight. He sat half in the world of light, half in dark, naked, as vulnerable and open as a man could be.
Before chanting the magical words could be intoned, he concentrated on finding Buffy. She was asleep. He wondered briefly why she wasn't patrolling, but then dismissed it when he realized it was time to start.
Spike began chanting the words in monotone, relaxing his body, and forcing his mind to open. The words became a mantra and he lost himself in the steady rhythm of his own deep voice.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT DEMON?"
A voice boomed into the empty night, jerking Spike's open. Hovering above the fire, dimming the light of the roaring flames, was a large, pulsating ball of white energy. There was no form, and Spike couldn't tell if the voice was masculine or feminine. It didn't matter.
Never one to beat around the bush, Spike jumped right to the point. "What's wrong with the Slayer?"
"SHE'S MEETING HER DESTINY."
"Her destiny? But she died."
"SHE WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO RETURN DEMON. IT WAS PART OF HER JOURNEY."
"Why?"
"SHE WOULDN'T BE STRONG ENOUGH OTHERWISE."
Spike was beginning to feel real fear. The Powers that Be never, ever volunteered Information freely, yet here was this being, telling a worthless demon about the Slayer's destiny.
"Does she need me?"
"YES."
"What is it? What is this thing inside of her?"
"LILITH WAS NOT THE FIRST VAMPIRE. LILITH WAS THE FIRST EVERYTHING. FIRST DEMON. FIRST HUMAN. FIRST MURDERER. FIRST VICTIM. FIRST SOUL."
"I don't understand. Is she a Goddess?"
"YES."
"And now she's in Buffy? Is Buffy now a deity?"
"SHE IS A GODDESS OF LIGHT. THIS IS HER DESTINY."
"What about me?"
"YOU MUST FIND YOUR WAY TO HER."
"What? How?"
But it was over. Spike could still see the hovering light in the air as it slowly dissipated, but he knew that he would receive no more answers. If Lilith was a goddess, why did he need to take part of her? How could even begin to be worthy of that? He was an unclean thing.
Spike passed out onto the blanket, completely oblivious to the world around him, the dying fire, or the howling coyotes. He lay sprawled, unmoving, looking very much like the corpse he was.
***
Buffy sat straight up in bed, breathing hard, terrified. She looked around her room, straining her eyes into the shadows, for signs of dangers. She listened intently for sounds of trouble, but all she heard was the steady breathing and heartbeat of her sister and friends.
She glanced at the clock. Only one hour left until dawn. She reached for Spike and felt him sleeping. No, he wasn't sleeping. He was unconscious. An hour before dawn.
Buffy felt an almost helpless terror at the thought. What if he was outside? What if he didn't wake up in time? What if he died in some god- forsaken back ally, drunk off his ass, or beat almost to death?
She had to think of a way to wake him up. She knew she could feel everything he did from sleeping to eating, laughing to growling, pleasure and pain. She clutched the sheet, that's it. That's how she would wake him up. She knew from notes that he wrote that he could feel her pleasuring herself.
She made sure her bedroom was locked, opened the window so the clean night breeze could cool her flushed skin, then stripped off her nightgown. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail, then stretched out on top of her blankets.
She knew she had to hurry, each minute brought Spike closer to a fiery death, but she also knew that this had to be good enough to wake him up. It had to be earth shattering.
Buffy started by rubbing the bite marks on her neck. They were still extremely sensitive, and she closed her eyes, pretending her gentle fingers belonged to Spike. Rubbing the marks sent shivers across her body and jolts of pleasure to her groin. Her fingers moved lower, brushing across her nipples until they were hard. She licked one finger and rubbed the tip of her nipple softly, making her moan.
She gave each nipple a good pinch. With one hand she continued to caress her nipples, with the other she moved lower, across her abdomen. It felt good, but it felt better when she closed her eyes and focused on Spike. She wanted him so bad that her longing intensified, yet distracted from, her pleasure.
One small finger slid between her lips into her already wet pussy. She touched her clitoris gently, and her toes curled in response. Her body was so hungry for her touch that it seemed like years since her last orgasm, even though just the night before several had incapacitated her. She rubbed herself faster and faster, her hips jerking against her hand unconsciously.
Just when she felt her orgasm building, she stopped and slid two wet fingers all the way inside of her, pumping furiously. She gasped then put pressure on her G-spot, rubbing it hard and fast. Again she felt just mere seconds from orgasm when she stopped.
She slid her finger back up to her clit, and within minutes amazing spasms wracked her body, her clit pulsating, her muscles quivering. She forced herself not to call Spike's name, because in her mind he was touching her. He was taking care of her.
She pulled the blanket over herself, wanting to stay awake to make sure that Spike wakes up, but she just couldn't keep her eyes open. Soon she was drifting into a sweet dream involving Spike and chocolate syrup.
***
Spike felt himself being pulled from his deep sleep by lightning bolts of pleasure throughout his body. His cock throbbed in response, and his balls tightened and ached. He began rubbing himself as he slowly came awake, but stopped when he sensed out close dawn was.
He could practically smell the sun, and his eyes shot open. He was still lying naked in the desert, the fire just low embers, his clothes undisturbed next to him. The sky was turning purple with the first fingers of the sun. He quickly grabbed his clothes and sprinted to his Desoto.
He dove into the backseat and closed the door, relief washing over him. He barely missed the sun. Just a few more minutes and he would have been one crispy vampire. What had woke him up?
Buffy. Did she know he was in danger? He smiled at the thought. That was a great way to wake him up whether he was in danger or not. She could do that any time she wanted.