MIRROR

Author's Note:  First of all – Thank you so much for all of the reviews.  I really appreciate them. 

In the last chapter Spike is recovering from the bullet wounds.  The differences between the souled and unsouled version of Buffy is starting to bother him, but he's distracted from that thought when she seduces him and asks him to bite her.  This is still from Spike's POV.

Um…fasten your seatbelts…it starts to get bumpy. 

CHAPTER 5- - - - - - - - - - -

The next few days passed in a haze of blood and sex, a swirl of drinking and fucking.  With all the human blood I was consuming, I was soon fully healed, and felt stronger than I ever had.  Who knows how much longer it would have lasted if Harris hadn't come over for a 'pity poor me session.' 

He'd taken to visiting us lately.  Was lonely, I suppose.   Bringing over a six-pack, he'd sit on the couch next to the Niblet, and whine as to how Demon Girl didn't love him anymore. I had no sympathy for the git.  He ignored me, but I always made sure that I helped myself to a few of his beers. 

This time, however, he'd picked a time when Buffy and her sis were out shopping.  What for, I had no idea.  Seemed they had plenty of clothes and gewgaws.  Of course, the Slayer could always use more of those lacy under things.  They were so damn fragile. 

Harris glanced around, unsure about staying, but Tara's presence and the fact that he probably didn't have anything better to do, convinced him to stay.  So, he sat on one end of the sofa, watching a basketball game, while I sat on the other end, drank his booze, and made snide comments. 

All this fun would've continued if Tara hadn't chosen that time to talk to me.  I'd caught her looking at Buffy and me with wide, worried eyes.  Something had been bothering the chit. 

With a nervous glance at Harris, she sat in the chair next to the couch and leaned towards me, while nibbling her lower lip in anxiety. 

            "Spike…I need to talk to you about something."

            "Not stopping you."

She took a deep breath.

            "The biting.  I don't think it's good for Buffy.  Or for you."

Before I could even say a word, the prat leapt up from the couch and started yelling.

            "You're biting Buffy?"

He headed towards me, his face red, and anger lighting his eyes.  I rose and confronted him.

            "Not hurting her…much."

            "That's it.  You're dead…deader."

Harris grabbed me, pulling me forward, preparing to punch me when I spat out what I knew would hit him harder than he wanted to hit me. 

"She asks for it.  Hell, when she's thrashing under me, she begs for it.  Adds a bit more bang to the banging."

His face paled, and he reeled back in shock, letting me go in the process.

            "No…she wouldn't.  Buffy wouldn't."

            "She does.  Gets off on it.  And I do it 'cause I love her."

Harris had backed all the way to the door now, and was reaching for the handle.

"No, you're not doing it because you love her.  If you did, you wouldn't be drinking from her.  And you'd know that Buffy, if she was in her right mind, would never ask you to." 

He opened the door and started to leave, but turned once more, a look of disgust etched over his face. 

"I'd actually started to think that maybe you did love her, but I was wrong.  You don't care.  To you, she's just breakfast in bed."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Buffy arrived back at the house, I was waiting for her.  She and Dawn entered, laden with bags, and I watched as she handed item after item to her sis, but didn't once touch her or smile at her.  As cold-blooded as I was, it chilled me inside to see it.

After Harris left, Tara and I had a bit of a chat.  Evidently, she'd noticed things were off with Buffy; her continued hatred of Willow for one, and now the biting.  The witch didn't even know about the blackmail of the Doublemeat Palace, or Warren's murder, but even without those damning items, the evidence was astounding.  Buffy was completely indifferent to her friends and family, and ignored all of her responsibilities.  The only things she seemed to care about these days were slaying and me, and when I'd been laid up, even the slaying had been dismissed as unimportant.

Buffy had come back wrong.  I'd taunted her with it.  Shoved that fact down her throat.  Now, I was the one choking on it. 

Tara had been talking with Willow.  The two of them had discussed the resurrection spell, what went wrong, and, more importantly, how it could be fixed.  Each morning, while Buffy and I slept in and Dawn was at school, Tara had slipped out to the Magic Box to research things.  Turns out that she and Willow found a spell.  It was complicated and dangerous as hell, but if it worked, then Buffy would be better.  Her soul would be returned. 

Knew that Buffy with a soul wouldn't want me, not in her bed, not in her life.  I'm not stupid.  But I loved her…all of her.  And, she needed her soul.  Besides, if the spell worked the way it was supposed to, I wouldn't be around anyway. 

I needed some time to talk to Buffy in private, so Tara came forward and offered to take Dawn to a movie.  Buffy just nodded her head that it was okay with her.  Didn't ask which movie it was, didn't protest that it was a school night, and didn't notice Dawn's stricken look when she went to give Buffy a kiss goodbye, only to have Buffy turn away from her.  I did.  The little one was hurting.

After they left, Buffy folded her arms and waited.  She knew something was up.  Taking a deep breath, I began to talk.

            "Buffy, your mates are worried about you.  I'm worried about you."

She stood there, silently staring at me, so I continued.

            "Since you've come back, you've been behaving…different like."

With a sigh, she questioned me.

"Different, as in no longer happy, bouncy Buffy?  Different, as in doesn't want to be bothered with whiny, screwed up friends?"

She eased up next to me, and rubbed herself against me; then, with eyes flashing a hint of mischief, she asked it.

            "Or different, as in having crazy hot sex with the former Big Bad?"

I gripped her arms and gently pulled her away from me and shook my head.

            "No, Buffy.  Different, as in not having a soul."

She flinched. 

            "Well, why are they complaining to you?  It was their fault."

Quietly, I replied.

            "They think they know how to fix it.  Get you your soul back."

She whirled on me, then.  Her face as hard as stone, her muscles clenched in anger.  She moved forward and, unthinkingly, I took several steps back, trying to keep some space between her fury and me.

"And you think that I should let them?  Let them mix their potions, wiggle their fingers, and play with my life again?"

"You need your soul, Slayer!  What you are right now…it's not you.  Not how you should be.  It's no good.  For you or the Bit."

She closed her eyes for a moment.  When she opened them again, she flung her head back and looked at me.  I couldn't read her expression as she came towards me, so I wasn't sure what to expect when she reached out and grabbed me by my arms, pulling me 'til our bodies were pressed together.  When her hands released my arms and traveled to my chest, I shuddered.  There they splayed open and explored a bit before the left one moved around to my back and her right one drifted lower, fluttering over my crotch. 

As Buffy began stroking my now hardened shaft through the denim of my jeans, she began kissing my throat, licking it a bit, blowing air against the damp spots, and making me shiver. 

"Don't you get it?" She purred.  "You won."

 Pain blossomed in my neck.  I pushed her away, staggered back, and stared at the blood, my blood that had stained her mouth when she'd bitten me.  The bitch only smiled and licked her lips.

            "You wanted me in the dark with you.  Now, I am."

tbc