Good evening, All
Here is the latest installment of The One. The drama picks up a bit, but there is a healthy dose of shippiness to set it off:.
I do hope you enjoy it and please, let me know. Feedback is my guide at the moment.
And no, I haven't forgotten about W/T/O. How could I?
Thanks again for all the support with my RL situation. Max would be really grateful too, after he was done licking my legs and barking at the sound my office assistant makes while I am typing in Word.
As I am still fairly drained and off kilter, I cannot guarantee when the next chapter will be out, but my hope is by the end of the weekend.
Thank you again.
Nimue
Title: Nothing Looks the Same in the Light (Chapter Fourteen of The One)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Draconius and Luke revel in the first tangible success of their spell. The mysterious woman watches a strange floor show and is struck by the players. Spike deals with the repercussions of what happened to Buffy on the porch, and explains to her the consequences of what is happening.
Nothing Looks the Same in the Light
"Heeeeee," Luke giggled, doing a little jig at his place on the marble floor. He was in a red satin bathrobe, his hair mussed from what looked to be a wild ride with Candy. The monitor flickered before him, giving him a black and white view of the show through a peephole in the shed. Draconius stood on tip toes trying to see over his shoulder.
"What's going on, you unimaginative git," Draconius snarled, hopping up to try and see the monitor over Luke's broad shoulders.
"Oh, sorry short stuff," Luke replied, letting his arm fall down and out to the side. He was a taller man, with broad, muscular shoulders. Had he not been a hell god, he would have made quite a male model. As it stood, Luke could spend very little time still or things tended to get.dead.
Draconius swallowed his ire at the remark and leaned over Luke's forearm to watch the monitor. A smile broke on his face watching the pretty little Slayer stand immobilized on her porch, screaming. There wasn't quite the floorshow he had hoped in that their little spell had not come into full force. He'd hoped for flames and smoke rising from her pretty peach skin, but he'd settle for the screams and that sort of dull, singed look. "The spell is growing in power," he said, musing at the sight of the woman standing on the deck, the two children barely visible on the bottom of the stairs, now crying up at their mother.
"Growing?" Luke said, a little happy awe in his voice. "There's more?"
The old one nodded, a sly smile breaking across his ancient features. "Oh, there is so much more."
Spike's arm darted through the doorway, grabbing the hood of Buffy's long sweater and yanking her as hard as he could muster. Cyrus was around the counter in seconds, heading out the door and to the children so that Spike could figure out what had happened. Buffy still screamed, her face locked in a tight grimace as she stumbled backwards into the house. Giles stared, his eyes as large as saucers.
It terrified him. That look of utter horror etched into her face as Spike spun her towards him. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth pinched in a pained grimace; lines creasing her face and making her look so old and so tired. Spike held Buffy's shoulders, steadying her a moment while he figured out what to do. One hand rose to her, fingers stroking her cheek softly. "Buffy? Love?"
Her eyes fluttered open and her face suddenly relaxed into the pretty young woman he knew so well. She blinked, her eyes trying to focus, trying to grab onto his and steady like a drowning person reaching for a life preserver. Her features were normal now except for a worried little crease in her brow.
Buffy stared at him wordlessly, trying to fight it. Trying to make it not what it was, whatever that had been. But he could hear her screaming in her mind. The sun had burned her. The sun, the parent to which her spirit had been a child, had expelled her into darkness. Her heart raced, her pulse jumping in her neck. Spike nodded, understanding that she didn't want to say it. Didn't want to explain. Didn't want it to be real.
Slowly, gently, he pulled the sweater from one side of her neck, inspecting her. Then the other. Both without letting the Watchers or the children see what he was doing. There was nothing but three older marks. Two on one side. One on the other. He nodded again, sliding his hands down her arms and pushing the sweater sleeves up beyond her elbows. Slowly, as if he was afraid of frightening her, he turned her hands, palm to the sky, in his. Her wrists were smooth and delicate, the now pale expanse of arm to her elbows unmarked. Vampires could feed on a human anywhere, but they preferred certain spots. Neck. Wrist. Elbow. He'd make it a point to check the rest of her as he drew her a bath.
Giles finally spoke, his voice cracking. "What.what is it?"
Buffy's eyes filled with unshed tears and her mind screamed now. Spike answered her without opening his mouth. Her Watcher needed to know to help. But not now. Not this second. Spike needed to take care of his own first. Gently, he pulled Buffy towards him until her head was buried in his chest and he could feel her body tense and hitch as she cried. "Migraine," Spike said, his eyes frightened as he looked at the Watcher. "Makes her eyes sensitive out of doors," he continued his voice bland and metered.
"Oh," Giles responded, watching Buffy shudder against Spike's chest and Spike pull her closer against him. "She'll be all right then?"
"Right as rain," Spike answered comfortingly, stroking Buffy's hair. But it wasn't. Nothing was right about this. Spike nodded curtly at the Watcher. "Would you be sure to keep an eye on Will and Emma with Cyrus? Think Buffy could use a hot bath and a nap."
"Of course," Giles answered, the sound of the wood squeaking against the tile as he stood filling the room. "You will come back down and let us know how we can help?"
Spike nodded, this time more sadly. "That I will. I just have to."
"Of course," Giles repeated, watching Spike guide his charge from the room, her face still invisible from unwanted eyes.
"Thank you," Spike answered quietly, his tone telling the Watcher that there was more, but now just wasn't the time.
The woman stood, her face pressed to the crack between the metal door and the wooden wall of the shed. She couldn't see much from this angle. Not that what she saw meant a whole lot. More mortals. More little humans milling around and making her think. Making her brain ache trying to figure out what they were and why she was there and if she should know them from somewhere and if she'd care if she did.
The girl screaming on the porch had been interesting. Forced the woman to cover her ears as she watched the pretty little blonde girl wiggle and shout, her voice full of pain. It sounded like the nights in the place she had been before this. When the new people came and they were screaming and the good-looking mean man tortured them. The sound was almost comforting.
And then the handsome prince came back and saved the screaming girl. She had fallen quiet and all that was left was the sound of sobbing small people. Another man came out to watch the smaller ones, comforting them and cooing. Stupid sound, cooing. She couldn't really see the little ones. There was a girl. She was small but her spirit was huge. Like she was part of the sunshine. And a smaller one. There was something about him that itched the back of her brain. Niggled and twisted and burned. But he was just small and weak and had a bright yellow arm. Maybe he was half bird and she had seen that in the place before.
Didn't matter anyway.
He leaned over the tub, letting hot water fill it and adding capfuls of vanilla scented bubbles. He knew what she liked. He always knew.
Buffy leaned against the counter, her robe closed tight across her chest. She'd undressed herself in the bedroom and then came in to meet him. She looked shaken. Worn. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the robe as she pulled it so tight around her it looked as if she might be able to make it go around twice.
Spike turned, letting the tub fill, the steam and the sound infusing the room. He watched her, his face set in concern. She hadn't been attacked. Hadn't been bitten. He'd been with her almost all the time. He'd have noticed if she'd lost a pulse. If she'd died and risen. Buffy was half of him, literally. He should have known.
He took a step closer and she tensed, hands clutching white knuckled at the terry cloth. Spike stopped, his eyes catching hers and she relaxed, just a bit. "It's me, Pet. All right?"
Buffy nodded, trying to uncurl her hands and letting the sound of the water and the smell of the room relax her just a bit. "What.what if time went all crazy again, Spike? What if they took me and then made me. and set it all back to normal before we even realized it?"
Spike cautiously approached her again. "Don't think you're a Vampire, Buffy," he said softly. That much was true. Her heart was racing, her breath pumping in shuddery streams from her lungs. There were some things happening that didn't add up, but she wasn't a Vampire.
"Then what?" She asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Why?"
"Dunno, Love," Spike answered softly, laying his hands on top of hers and squeezing gently. "We'll sort it out."
Buffy nodded, the burning warmth of tears behind her eyes. "Promise?"
Spike smiled softly. "Swear. You know, if nothing else, I'm good for my word."
She smiled wearily back at him. "I know. That's not all you're good for though."
Spike chuckled, gently pushing her arms to her sides. "Need to be sure, Pet. We need to be sure that you weren't bitten, all right? Don't think that's the case. Think you'd know. Think I'd know."
"I thought you could only be claimed once," Buffy said quietly.
His eyes shot to hers. "You can, Love. Not like that. " Spike stopped, sighing. She didn't know. As much as she knew about him, and about hunting Vampires, she didn't really get the whole levels of biting and reasons. Too much to explain while the bath was running, but he thought he'd set her mind at ease.
"Love, a Vampire bites its prey for a few reasons. First, to eat," Spike said, his fingers sliding slowly down the front of her robe to the tie, trying not to startle her. She watched him intently, listening. "The second reason is for sex," Spike continued. "Lots of Vampires, and a right lot of humans, get their rocks off on the sensation."
"Eww," Buffy commented, trying to smile. "I mean, like Ri."
"Don't!" Spike snapped half-heartedly. "Never want to say that git's name again."
Buffy tittered as Spike untied the robe, letting it fall open and exposing a small line of her creamy, smooth skin. "Back to the lesson," he continued, distracting her as he searched her quietly. "Third reason would be to turn someone. Make more."
She tensed at the thought, convinced that was what had happened to her. Spike sensed it and stopped moving, catching her eyes again in his. Buffy stared for a moment and settled. Watching his eyes was like watching blue waves crash gently on the shore. They pulsed and dove and soared and sucked her in. "Okay," she whispered.
"To do that," Spike began again, pushing the robe from her shoulders and slowly guiding it down her arms, "Bugger'd have to bite you, which, as you know, hurts, and force you to drink."
"It only hurt at first," Buffy said, her fingers tracing the marks he'd left on the right side of her neck.
Spike nodded. "Even with Peaches and that sodding poof Dracula, and especially with me, no one was going for the pain. It hurts, Buffy. A lot. When I . when we. I was gentle. Wasn't out to turn you into a Vampire, Love. Wasn't out to make you one with the darkness and pain. Wasn't really wanting to do it at all. If anything I was stealing your light."
Her hand fluttered to his face as she stood naked in front of him. "I was giving it to you, " Buffy whispered, her thumb tracing along his cheekbone. Softly, he smiled.
"I know, Love. And I am eternally grateful." His eyes began to scan her body. Neck, shoulders, collarbones, arms, all as he talked and held her gently. "But, the point being, that no one was trying to make you a Vampire. Didn't hurt much because didn't want it to."
Buffy nodded, letting him inspect her slowly, his eyes brushing against her flesh as real as if they were fingers. It made her skin burn with a good, beautiful, fire. "Understand."
"Last reason Vampire's bite is to claim," Spike continued, turning her towards the wall and continuing the visual inspection of her back. "To make another ours. Like making a vow that you claim another as your own, and they claim you in return. Not always romantic, but, being a sappy sod since I met you, was in our case."
Buffy smiled a true, radiant smile at him. "I kinda like you sappy sometimes."
He rolled his eyes, continuing his lecture. "Less you've been holding back on me, you hadn't been claimed before. Though I'm pretty sure I'd've known if you were. Sort of leaves a mark. Not a physical one, but."
"But a heart one," Buffy said quietly. He nodded. She shook her head. "No. No claiming. Not for me. Not till you."
Spike smiled, stroking her cheek. "Never again either. If that's all right with you."
"I think my dance card is happily full," Buffy replied, her smile lighting the room. She was quiet a minute. "So how long does claiming last? I mean, in normal, not One joined kind of Vampire, people, relationships."
He had to chuckle. In all these years, around all these mostly well educated, well spoken people, Buffy had managed to retain her own little language skills. Smart as a whip, but talked in circles. "Usually for eternity, but doesn't always work. Bit like marriage in that respect."
Buffy chuckled. "Did for us."
"We aren't your normal Mr. and Mrs. Smith of 1630 Revello, with two point five tots and one of those tasteless minivans," Spike snarked. "Unless you're not telling me something and there's a point five baking and a block of jello on wheels on order."
Buffy giggled. "Okay, we're the demon fighting Mrs. and Mr. Windsor of 1630 Revello with a nice round two kids and a regular car. Oh, and some mystical connection that always keeps us together. And no point five that I know of."
"Sounds about right," Spike answered, turning her back towards him. "And happy to report, there's not a mark on you, Pet."
She smiled brightly. "So, glad you are thorough." She was silent a moment, her mind turning dizzying circles. Then the smile faded and he felt as if the lights in the room had been dimmed.
"What is it, Pet?" Spike asked as she stood before him. She was naked and always glorious, but she suddenly became very small and alone.
"Why then?" Buffy asked, her eyes filling and her body beginning to tremble. "If nothing bit me, tried to turn me, then why? You know that what happened outside was.."
Spike swallowed, his eyes falling from hers. "Burning," he whispered. "Know it well, Pet."
"If I'm not." Buffy said, the first of those big, wet tears drizzling down her face in a silver laced trail. "Then what?"
Spike gathered her against him, backing her towards the now brimming tub. He turned off the water with one hand and scooped her up with the other. "Not sure, Love," he answered. "But it's not real. Not really, at least. So, we'll mend it. Make it right."
Buffy swallowed as he gently lowered her into the water. It was hot, but like sinking into calm. He settled her against the bottom and brought his hands to her face. "What if we can't?" Buffy whispered, terrified. Scared that if this was real, if she was somehow turned into the one thing they fought against, he would no longer love her. Her kids wouldn't love her. Her friends.
Spike felt that thought rip through him like a dagger. She thought it changed anything about how he felt. Didn't want to see her as fanged and bumpy just because he knew *she'd* hate it. Didn't matter to him if she was suddenly a Fyarl demon. She was still his Buffy. His mate. His life. "Buffy," he sighed, kneeling down next to the tub and brushing damp strands of hair from her shoulders. "Don't think that what is happening is permanent. Think it's something the Wonder Twins of Tweed downstairs can suss out and fix eventually." Buffy moved to speak but Spike shh'd her with a finger over her lips. "But even if it were, Pet, even if you were a Vampire. Wouldn't matter. I'd love you all the same. Kid's still have their mum. I'd still have you. Be an adjustment, more for you than me, but wouldn't change anything. Not to mention, you've your own do-it yourself manual of successful, not particularly evil , Vampire sleeping mere inches away from you. I don't want this to be real because *you* would hate it. It honestly doesn't matter to me."
Buffy looked at him for a minute, knowing he was telling her the truth, but still uncertain. "You. you'd love me the same if. if."
Spike sighed, leaning against the side of the tub and letting his face brush close to hers. "Buffy, when things started. when Emma. I was a Vampire. Well and truly. No daylight. No pulse. Right?"
Buffy nodded, feeling his breath blow against her cheek.
"When you came for me, at that git's red mansion, I was a Vampire. Not some sort of halfway creature. Just a Vampire. Plain and simple. Right?"
"Yes," Buffy breathed, barely able to speak.
"Buffy," he whispered, moving back enough to see her eyes. "Did you love me then? Really?"
She stared at him for a long moment. Not that she had to think about the answer, but because he'd even asked. "Yes," she replied softly.
"And I was a Vampire?" Spike asked. "Completely?"
"Yes."
"Then what makes you think for a bloody second that it would change anything for me?" Spike asked, his hands now on her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "If you could love me then, why is it so hard to believe that I would love you now, were it even remotely true?"
Big, wet drops spilled from Buffy's eyes as she stared at him. She loved him. Every part of her loved him and she knew he felt the same. It had been a silly fear. Then again, most fear was. But still. It had been there. It wasn't anymore.
"I know you would," Buffy said quietly, her eyes still trapped in his. "But I'm . I'm scared."
Spike softened, leaning in closer again. "I know, Love. But we *will* make it right. And I'll be there when it's over. Never leaving."
Buffy smiled, tears running down her face. "Then please don't go now."
He backed up on his knees, quirking a brow. She looked so afraid and so alone, but a small smile was trying to play on her lips. "Not going anywhere, Pet."
She shook her head, letting one wet hand rise from the bubbles. "I think that you might have missed a few spots on your search."
A sly grin broke out on his face. "Want me to smell like a damned Vanilla plant, do you?"
"You're already covered in it from me," Buffy reminded, blowing bubbles against the front of his shirt.
He sighed dramatically, peeling the t-shirt off and tossing it behind him. "If it'll make you feel better for me to continue the search."
"It's a hard job," Buffy began, "but someone has to do it."
To be contd.
Here is the latest installment of The One. The drama picks up a bit, but there is a healthy dose of shippiness to set it off:.
I do hope you enjoy it and please, let me know. Feedback is my guide at the moment.
And no, I haven't forgotten about W/T/O. How could I?
Thanks again for all the support with my RL situation. Max would be really grateful too, after he was done licking my legs and barking at the sound my office assistant makes while I am typing in Word.
As I am still fairly drained and off kilter, I cannot guarantee when the next chapter will be out, but my hope is by the end of the weekend.
Thank you again.
Nimue
Title: Nothing Looks the Same in the Light (Chapter Fourteen of The One)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Draconius and Luke revel in the first tangible success of their spell. The mysterious woman watches a strange floor show and is struck by the players. Spike deals with the repercussions of what happened to Buffy on the porch, and explains to her the consequences of what is happening.
Nothing Looks the Same in the Light
"Heeeeee," Luke giggled, doing a little jig at his place on the marble floor. He was in a red satin bathrobe, his hair mussed from what looked to be a wild ride with Candy. The monitor flickered before him, giving him a black and white view of the show through a peephole in the shed. Draconius stood on tip toes trying to see over his shoulder.
"What's going on, you unimaginative git," Draconius snarled, hopping up to try and see the monitor over Luke's broad shoulders.
"Oh, sorry short stuff," Luke replied, letting his arm fall down and out to the side. He was a taller man, with broad, muscular shoulders. Had he not been a hell god, he would have made quite a male model. As it stood, Luke could spend very little time still or things tended to get.dead.
Draconius swallowed his ire at the remark and leaned over Luke's forearm to watch the monitor. A smile broke on his face watching the pretty little Slayer stand immobilized on her porch, screaming. There wasn't quite the floorshow he had hoped in that their little spell had not come into full force. He'd hoped for flames and smoke rising from her pretty peach skin, but he'd settle for the screams and that sort of dull, singed look. "The spell is growing in power," he said, musing at the sight of the woman standing on the deck, the two children barely visible on the bottom of the stairs, now crying up at their mother.
"Growing?" Luke said, a little happy awe in his voice. "There's more?"
The old one nodded, a sly smile breaking across his ancient features. "Oh, there is so much more."
Spike's arm darted through the doorway, grabbing the hood of Buffy's long sweater and yanking her as hard as he could muster. Cyrus was around the counter in seconds, heading out the door and to the children so that Spike could figure out what had happened. Buffy still screamed, her face locked in a tight grimace as she stumbled backwards into the house. Giles stared, his eyes as large as saucers.
It terrified him. That look of utter horror etched into her face as Spike spun her towards him. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth pinched in a pained grimace; lines creasing her face and making her look so old and so tired. Spike held Buffy's shoulders, steadying her a moment while he figured out what to do. One hand rose to her, fingers stroking her cheek softly. "Buffy? Love?"
Her eyes fluttered open and her face suddenly relaxed into the pretty young woman he knew so well. She blinked, her eyes trying to focus, trying to grab onto his and steady like a drowning person reaching for a life preserver. Her features were normal now except for a worried little crease in her brow.
Buffy stared at him wordlessly, trying to fight it. Trying to make it not what it was, whatever that had been. But he could hear her screaming in her mind. The sun had burned her. The sun, the parent to which her spirit had been a child, had expelled her into darkness. Her heart raced, her pulse jumping in her neck. Spike nodded, understanding that she didn't want to say it. Didn't want to explain. Didn't want it to be real.
Slowly, gently, he pulled the sweater from one side of her neck, inspecting her. Then the other. Both without letting the Watchers or the children see what he was doing. There was nothing but three older marks. Two on one side. One on the other. He nodded again, sliding his hands down her arms and pushing the sweater sleeves up beyond her elbows. Slowly, as if he was afraid of frightening her, he turned her hands, palm to the sky, in his. Her wrists were smooth and delicate, the now pale expanse of arm to her elbows unmarked. Vampires could feed on a human anywhere, but they preferred certain spots. Neck. Wrist. Elbow. He'd make it a point to check the rest of her as he drew her a bath.
Giles finally spoke, his voice cracking. "What.what is it?"
Buffy's eyes filled with unshed tears and her mind screamed now. Spike answered her without opening his mouth. Her Watcher needed to know to help. But not now. Not this second. Spike needed to take care of his own first. Gently, he pulled Buffy towards him until her head was buried in his chest and he could feel her body tense and hitch as she cried. "Migraine," Spike said, his eyes frightened as he looked at the Watcher. "Makes her eyes sensitive out of doors," he continued his voice bland and metered.
"Oh," Giles responded, watching Buffy shudder against Spike's chest and Spike pull her closer against him. "She'll be all right then?"
"Right as rain," Spike answered comfortingly, stroking Buffy's hair. But it wasn't. Nothing was right about this. Spike nodded curtly at the Watcher. "Would you be sure to keep an eye on Will and Emma with Cyrus? Think Buffy could use a hot bath and a nap."
"Of course," Giles answered, the sound of the wood squeaking against the tile as he stood filling the room. "You will come back down and let us know how we can help?"
Spike nodded, this time more sadly. "That I will. I just have to."
"Of course," Giles repeated, watching Spike guide his charge from the room, her face still invisible from unwanted eyes.
"Thank you," Spike answered quietly, his tone telling the Watcher that there was more, but now just wasn't the time.
The woman stood, her face pressed to the crack between the metal door and the wooden wall of the shed. She couldn't see much from this angle. Not that what she saw meant a whole lot. More mortals. More little humans milling around and making her think. Making her brain ache trying to figure out what they were and why she was there and if she should know them from somewhere and if she'd care if she did.
The girl screaming on the porch had been interesting. Forced the woman to cover her ears as she watched the pretty little blonde girl wiggle and shout, her voice full of pain. It sounded like the nights in the place she had been before this. When the new people came and they were screaming and the good-looking mean man tortured them. The sound was almost comforting.
And then the handsome prince came back and saved the screaming girl. She had fallen quiet and all that was left was the sound of sobbing small people. Another man came out to watch the smaller ones, comforting them and cooing. Stupid sound, cooing. She couldn't really see the little ones. There was a girl. She was small but her spirit was huge. Like she was part of the sunshine. And a smaller one. There was something about him that itched the back of her brain. Niggled and twisted and burned. But he was just small and weak and had a bright yellow arm. Maybe he was half bird and she had seen that in the place before.
Didn't matter anyway.
He leaned over the tub, letting hot water fill it and adding capfuls of vanilla scented bubbles. He knew what she liked. He always knew.
Buffy leaned against the counter, her robe closed tight across her chest. She'd undressed herself in the bedroom and then came in to meet him. She looked shaken. Worn. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the robe as she pulled it so tight around her it looked as if she might be able to make it go around twice.
Spike turned, letting the tub fill, the steam and the sound infusing the room. He watched her, his face set in concern. She hadn't been attacked. Hadn't been bitten. He'd been with her almost all the time. He'd have noticed if she'd lost a pulse. If she'd died and risen. Buffy was half of him, literally. He should have known.
He took a step closer and she tensed, hands clutching white knuckled at the terry cloth. Spike stopped, his eyes catching hers and she relaxed, just a bit. "It's me, Pet. All right?"
Buffy nodded, trying to uncurl her hands and letting the sound of the water and the smell of the room relax her just a bit. "What.what if time went all crazy again, Spike? What if they took me and then made me. and set it all back to normal before we even realized it?"
Spike cautiously approached her again. "Don't think you're a Vampire, Buffy," he said softly. That much was true. Her heart was racing, her breath pumping in shuddery streams from her lungs. There were some things happening that didn't add up, but she wasn't a Vampire.
"Then what?" She asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Why?"
"Dunno, Love," Spike answered softly, laying his hands on top of hers and squeezing gently. "We'll sort it out."
Buffy nodded, the burning warmth of tears behind her eyes. "Promise?"
Spike smiled softly. "Swear. You know, if nothing else, I'm good for my word."
She smiled wearily back at him. "I know. That's not all you're good for though."
Spike chuckled, gently pushing her arms to her sides. "Need to be sure, Pet. We need to be sure that you weren't bitten, all right? Don't think that's the case. Think you'd know. Think I'd know."
"I thought you could only be claimed once," Buffy said quietly.
His eyes shot to hers. "You can, Love. Not like that. " Spike stopped, sighing. She didn't know. As much as she knew about him, and about hunting Vampires, she didn't really get the whole levels of biting and reasons. Too much to explain while the bath was running, but he thought he'd set her mind at ease.
"Love, a Vampire bites its prey for a few reasons. First, to eat," Spike said, his fingers sliding slowly down the front of her robe to the tie, trying not to startle her. She watched him intently, listening. "The second reason is for sex," Spike continued. "Lots of Vampires, and a right lot of humans, get their rocks off on the sensation."
"Eww," Buffy commented, trying to smile. "I mean, like Ri."
"Don't!" Spike snapped half-heartedly. "Never want to say that git's name again."
Buffy tittered as Spike untied the robe, letting it fall open and exposing a small line of her creamy, smooth skin. "Back to the lesson," he continued, distracting her as he searched her quietly. "Third reason would be to turn someone. Make more."
She tensed at the thought, convinced that was what had happened to her. Spike sensed it and stopped moving, catching her eyes again in his. Buffy stared for a moment and settled. Watching his eyes was like watching blue waves crash gently on the shore. They pulsed and dove and soared and sucked her in. "Okay," she whispered.
"To do that," Spike began again, pushing the robe from her shoulders and slowly guiding it down her arms, "Bugger'd have to bite you, which, as you know, hurts, and force you to drink."
"It only hurt at first," Buffy said, her fingers tracing the marks he'd left on the right side of her neck.
Spike nodded. "Even with Peaches and that sodding poof Dracula, and especially with me, no one was going for the pain. It hurts, Buffy. A lot. When I . when we. I was gentle. Wasn't out to turn you into a Vampire, Love. Wasn't out to make you one with the darkness and pain. Wasn't really wanting to do it at all. If anything I was stealing your light."
Her hand fluttered to his face as she stood naked in front of him. "I was giving it to you, " Buffy whispered, her thumb tracing along his cheekbone. Softly, he smiled.
"I know, Love. And I am eternally grateful." His eyes began to scan her body. Neck, shoulders, collarbones, arms, all as he talked and held her gently. "But, the point being, that no one was trying to make you a Vampire. Didn't hurt much because didn't want it to."
Buffy nodded, letting him inspect her slowly, his eyes brushing against her flesh as real as if they were fingers. It made her skin burn with a good, beautiful, fire. "Understand."
"Last reason Vampire's bite is to claim," Spike continued, turning her towards the wall and continuing the visual inspection of her back. "To make another ours. Like making a vow that you claim another as your own, and they claim you in return. Not always romantic, but, being a sappy sod since I met you, was in our case."
Buffy smiled a true, radiant smile at him. "I kinda like you sappy sometimes."
He rolled his eyes, continuing his lecture. "Less you've been holding back on me, you hadn't been claimed before. Though I'm pretty sure I'd've known if you were. Sort of leaves a mark. Not a physical one, but."
"But a heart one," Buffy said quietly. He nodded. She shook her head. "No. No claiming. Not for me. Not till you."
Spike smiled, stroking her cheek. "Never again either. If that's all right with you."
"I think my dance card is happily full," Buffy replied, her smile lighting the room. She was quiet a minute. "So how long does claiming last? I mean, in normal, not One joined kind of Vampire, people, relationships."
He had to chuckle. In all these years, around all these mostly well educated, well spoken people, Buffy had managed to retain her own little language skills. Smart as a whip, but talked in circles. "Usually for eternity, but doesn't always work. Bit like marriage in that respect."
Buffy chuckled. "Did for us."
"We aren't your normal Mr. and Mrs. Smith of 1630 Revello, with two point five tots and one of those tasteless minivans," Spike snarked. "Unless you're not telling me something and there's a point five baking and a block of jello on wheels on order."
Buffy giggled. "Okay, we're the demon fighting Mrs. and Mr. Windsor of 1630 Revello with a nice round two kids and a regular car. Oh, and some mystical connection that always keeps us together. And no point five that I know of."
"Sounds about right," Spike answered, turning her back towards him. "And happy to report, there's not a mark on you, Pet."
She smiled brightly. "So, glad you are thorough." She was silent a moment, her mind turning dizzying circles. Then the smile faded and he felt as if the lights in the room had been dimmed.
"What is it, Pet?" Spike asked as she stood before him. She was naked and always glorious, but she suddenly became very small and alone.
"Why then?" Buffy asked, her eyes filling and her body beginning to tremble. "If nothing bit me, tried to turn me, then why? You know that what happened outside was.."
Spike swallowed, his eyes falling from hers. "Burning," he whispered. "Know it well, Pet."
"If I'm not." Buffy said, the first of those big, wet tears drizzling down her face in a silver laced trail. "Then what?"
Spike gathered her against him, backing her towards the now brimming tub. He turned off the water with one hand and scooped her up with the other. "Not sure, Love," he answered. "But it's not real. Not really, at least. So, we'll mend it. Make it right."
Buffy swallowed as he gently lowered her into the water. It was hot, but like sinking into calm. He settled her against the bottom and brought his hands to her face. "What if we can't?" Buffy whispered, terrified. Scared that if this was real, if she was somehow turned into the one thing they fought against, he would no longer love her. Her kids wouldn't love her. Her friends.
Spike felt that thought rip through him like a dagger. She thought it changed anything about how he felt. Didn't want to see her as fanged and bumpy just because he knew *she'd* hate it. Didn't matter to him if she was suddenly a Fyarl demon. She was still his Buffy. His mate. His life. "Buffy," he sighed, kneeling down next to the tub and brushing damp strands of hair from her shoulders. "Don't think that what is happening is permanent. Think it's something the Wonder Twins of Tweed downstairs can suss out and fix eventually." Buffy moved to speak but Spike shh'd her with a finger over her lips. "But even if it were, Pet, even if you were a Vampire. Wouldn't matter. I'd love you all the same. Kid's still have their mum. I'd still have you. Be an adjustment, more for you than me, but wouldn't change anything. Not to mention, you've your own do-it yourself manual of successful, not particularly evil , Vampire sleeping mere inches away from you. I don't want this to be real because *you* would hate it. It honestly doesn't matter to me."
Buffy looked at him for a minute, knowing he was telling her the truth, but still uncertain. "You. you'd love me the same if. if."
Spike sighed, leaning against the side of the tub and letting his face brush close to hers. "Buffy, when things started. when Emma. I was a Vampire. Well and truly. No daylight. No pulse. Right?"
Buffy nodded, feeling his breath blow against her cheek.
"When you came for me, at that git's red mansion, I was a Vampire. Not some sort of halfway creature. Just a Vampire. Plain and simple. Right?"
"Yes," Buffy breathed, barely able to speak.
"Buffy," he whispered, moving back enough to see her eyes. "Did you love me then? Really?"
She stared at him for a long moment. Not that she had to think about the answer, but because he'd even asked. "Yes," she replied softly.
"And I was a Vampire?" Spike asked. "Completely?"
"Yes."
"Then what makes you think for a bloody second that it would change anything for me?" Spike asked, his hands now on her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "If you could love me then, why is it so hard to believe that I would love you now, were it even remotely true?"
Big, wet drops spilled from Buffy's eyes as she stared at him. She loved him. Every part of her loved him and she knew he felt the same. It had been a silly fear. Then again, most fear was. But still. It had been there. It wasn't anymore.
"I know you would," Buffy said quietly, her eyes still trapped in his. "But I'm . I'm scared."
Spike softened, leaning in closer again. "I know, Love. But we *will* make it right. And I'll be there when it's over. Never leaving."
Buffy smiled, tears running down her face. "Then please don't go now."
He backed up on his knees, quirking a brow. She looked so afraid and so alone, but a small smile was trying to play on her lips. "Not going anywhere, Pet."
She shook her head, letting one wet hand rise from the bubbles. "I think that you might have missed a few spots on your search."
A sly grin broke out on his face. "Want me to smell like a damned Vanilla plant, do you?"
"You're already covered in it from me," Buffy reminded, blowing bubbles against the front of his shirt.
He sighed dramatically, peeling the t-shirt off and tossing it behind him. "If it'll make you feel better for me to continue the search."
"It's a hard job," Buffy began, "but someone has to do it."
To be contd.