It had been nearly 2 weeks since the first incident, and Spike had done it
several more times in that time. They never talked about it afterwards, but
when it happened, it was terrifying. The last time, she had come close to
being drained.
Buffy could feel the fangs on her neck still, and even though he was vamped out and lost in the demon, his mouth had been gentle when it found the skin that it sought out. He had calmed almost instantly when he felt the pulse beating beneath him. She was so attuned to him that when he calmed, she had as well, and before she knew what she was doing, Buffy was allowing him to drink.
He had stopped after just a few pulls on the sweet elixir, but if he had still been out of it, there was no telling what might have happened. Buffy had tried to talk to him about it afterwards, but he just shot her a look, and retreated into himself. That was 2 days ago by the calendar.
Spike watched her sleep now, and his hand brushed against the soft hair on her forehead. They had not gotten past the attacks physically. There had been no more kissing, and certainly nothing any farther then that. He did not miss it nearly as much as he missed the talking, the trust.
Buffy never said that she didn't trust him, but she was weary around him, and he could tell she was getting tired from the constant guard she kept up. It was wearing her down. She had taken to sleeping more and more, and some times, he was hard pressed to get her out of the bed.
The door opened, and Spike's attention was drawn sharply towards it. Expecting the girl, he was mildly surprised to see a man instead. He looked ready to piss himself, and Spike took full advantage by vamping out and lunging forward. The man had his back against the sealed door as quick as he could, and Spike was shocked, thinking he would have left.
A sudden movement came from the man, and Spike found his arm had a hypodermic needle sticking from it. He registered the needle just before his body recoiled in pain. He lay on the floor, his body writhing in pain. The nervous man was able to step forward now, though he was extremely cautious still.
Spike watched as the man walked closer to the bed, and through the pain, he forced himself forward, and brought the man down in a tackle. The man came down hard, and gripped his head in pain as it hit the hard ground.
"Stay away from her!" His growl was fierce as Spike pulled the needle from his arm, still half filled with a clear liquid. "What in bloody hell is this shit?" The man cowered from him. He'd n told that the needle would sedate the vampire, and it was the only reason he agreed to go into the room.
The council had something to inject into Buffy. It would not hurt her, but it was needed to get her into the position they had to achieve. They had to make sure she was receptive vampire, and would welcome him to her neck, or the attachment would never form, and they would not fight together. The prophecies fore told of a vampire, brought from the dark to serve beside the great slayer, to bring light to the mouth of hell. They were the pair. They had to be.
Spike lunged forward again, and dragged his aching body towards Buffy. She slept on still, though he could tell she would be waking soon. In his last lucid moment, he covered her body with his own, and promptly passed out.
Buffy woke as Spike covered her body with his own. She gasped and looked at him. His eyes were dull as they closed. She lay there for a moment, before it registered that something was making noise in the room still.
The guy held himself still, and looked up towards the bed, where the vampire was. He heard nothing until the girl, Buffy, softly said the vampire's name.
"Spike?" After another moment or two, Buffy sat up on the bed, and looked around the room. She did not see him at first, but she could feel something, or more accurately, someone. She felt uneasy, and finally, her gaze went downward. Just as it did, however, he leaped upward, a second syringe aimed and ready.
He had a feeling he would be getting the ass kicking of his life after he injected her, but he knew his job, and he knew what had to be done. She was mostly asleep, and her response time wasn't what it should have been, so it only took a bit of wrestling for him to jab the exposed needle into her side.
Buffy howled as the burning liquid seared her veins, and she dropped back to the bed before tumbling off it. She clawed at her skin, leaving bloody scrapes along where the fire flamed out of control inside of her.
The man stood, and watched apprehensively, before he backed up and hit the door. Moments after his back connected with the door, it opened, and he tumbled out of it. He was immensely glad that his job was done, and that he lived through it.
*
Spike woke first, and looked around slowly, his cautious gaze settling finally on the still form lying on the floor. He could smell her blood, and could just about taste it, but he was also relieved to find that it was only scratches, just surface wounds. Spike wasted no time in sitting next to her.
"Buffy? Come on slayer, I need you to open those pretty green eyes." He sat her up, and lightly smacked at her face, and before long, she was blinking her eyes and moaning softly.
"It 'urts." She mumbled out softly. He tried to look her over, but to him, nothing serious appeared to be wrong. She did not seem to have anything broken, nor was anything bruising or bleeding beyond the scratches she had caused herself.
Spike cradled her small form to his own, and gently rocked her. He whispered soft words into her ear, and his hand smoothed down the silken strands of her hair. "Where's it hurt, baby?"
"Inside. he. put something in me. it burns."
Spike closed his eyes and nodded finally. "It'll be alright, baby. We'll make sure you feel better." Spike said to her in a gentle voice that belied his inner torment at the thought that someone had hurt her, and that he had been unable to stop it.
Buffy could feel the fangs on her neck still, and even though he was vamped out and lost in the demon, his mouth had been gentle when it found the skin that it sought out. He had calmed almost instantly when he felt the pulse beating beneath him. She was so attuned to him that when he calmed, she had as well, and before she knew what she was doing, Buffy was allowing him to drink.
He had stopped after just a few pulls on the sweet elixir, but if he had still been out of it, there was no telling what might have happened. Buffy had tried to talk to him about it afterwards, but he just shot her a look, and retreated into himself. That was 2 days ago by the calendar.
Spike watched her sleep now, and his hand brushed against the soft hair on her forehead. They had not gotten past the attacks physically. There had been no more kissing, and certainly nothing any farther then that. He did not miss it nearly as much as he missed the talking, the trust.
Buffy never said that she didn't trust him, but she was weary around him, and he could tell she was getting tired from the constant guard she kept up. It was wearing her down. She had taken to sleeping more and more, and some times, he was hard pressed to get her out of the bed.
The door opened, and Spike's attention was drawn sharply towards it. Expecting the girl, he was mildly surprised to see a man instead. He looked ready to piss himself, and Spike took full advantage by vamping out and lunging forward. The man had his back against the sealed door as quick as he could, and Spike was shocked, thinking he would have left.
A sudden movement came from the man, and Spike found his arm had a hypodermic needle sticking from it. He registered the needle just before his body recoiled in pain. He lay on the floor, his body writhing in pain. The nervous man was able to step forward now, though he was extremely cautious still.
Spike watched as the man walked closer to the bed, and through the pain, he forced himself forward, and brought the man down in a tackle. The man came down hard, and gripped his head in pain as it hit the hard ground.
"Stay away from her!" His growl was fierce as Spike pulled the needle from his arm, still half filled with a clear liquid. "What in bloody hell is this shit?" The man cowered from him. He'd n told that the needle would sedate the vampire, and it was the only reason he agreed to go into the room.
The council had something to inject into Buffy. It would not hurt her, but it was needed to get her into the position they had to achieve. They had to make sure she was receptive vampire, and would welcome him to her neck, or the attachment would never form, and they would not fight together. The prophecies fore told of a vampire, brought from the dark to serve beside the great slayer, to bring light to the mouth of hell. They were the pair. They had to be.
Spike lunged forward again, and dragged his aching body towards Buffy. She slept on still, though he could tell she would be waking soon. In his last lucid moment, he covered her body with his own, and promptly passed out.
Buffy woke as Spike covered her body with his own. She gasped and looked at him. His eyes were dull as they closed. She lay there for a moment, before it registered that something was making noise in the room still.
The guy held himself still, and looked up towards the bed, where the vampire was. He heard nothing until the girl, Buffy, softly said the vampire's name.
"Spike?" After another moment or two, Buffy sat up on the bed, and looked around the room. She did not see him at first, but she could feel something, or more accurately, someone. She felt uneasy, and finally, her gaze went downward. Just as it did, however, he leaped upward, a second syringe aimed and ready.
He had a feeling he would be getting the ass kicking of his life after he injected her, but he knew his job, and he knew what had to be done. She was mostly asleep, and her response time wasn't what it should have been, so it only took a bit of wrestling for him to jab the exposed needle into her side.
Buffy howled as the burning liquid seared her veins, and she dropped back to the bed before tumbling off it. She clawed at her skin, leaving bloody scrapes along where the fire flamed out of control inside of her.
The man stood, and watched apprehensively, before he backed up and hit the door. Moments after his back connected with the door, it opened, and he tumbled out of it. He was immensely glad that his job was done, and that he lived through it.
*
Spike woke first, and looked around slowly, his cautious gaze settling finally on the still form lying on the floor. He could smell her blood, and could just about taste it, but he was also relieved to find that it was only scratches, just surface wounds. Spike wasted no time in sitting next to her.
"Buffy? Come on slayer, I need you to open those pretty green eyes." He sat her up, and lightly smacked at her face, and before long, she was blinking her eyes and moaning softly.
"It 'urts." She mumbled out softly. He tried to look her over, but to him, nothing serious appeared to be wrong. She did not seem to have anything broken, nor was anything bruising or bleeding beyond the scratches she had caused herself.
Spike cradled her small form to his own, and gently rocked her. He whispered soft words into her ear, and his hand smoothed down the silken strands of her hair. "Where's it hurt, baby?"
"Inside. he. put something in me. it burns."
Spike closed his eyes and nodded finally. "It'll be alright, baby. We'll make sure you feel better." Spike said to her in a gentle voice that belied his inner torment at the thought that someone had hurt her, and that he had been unable to stop it.