Good evening, All.
Well, it's a little later on Sunday that I had originally expected, but I made it none the less. YAY for that!
I hope to have the next chapter out either Wednesday or Thursday, provided real life stays relatively calm.
Hope all of you are safe and well, and please, let me know how you like the story. The angst has begun!
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: Hunger (Chapter Seventeen 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 . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm .
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: Buffy and Spike patrol. Anya and Giles argue over Anya's role in helping Buffy. The One encounter a group of Vampires and realize that their problems are worlds larger than they thought.
Hunger
The night was chilly. At least for California. The air was crisp and nearly weightless as they walked as they always had. It seemed like an eternity that they had patrolled side by side along the streets and alleys, cemeteries and campuses of this town. In one sense, it had been an eternity. In another, it had been only moments since they had called a truce and became One.
They were silent, as they often were on such walks. The sounds of their footsteps echoed in the chilly night air. Not much was going on. Most of the Vampire and demon population was laying low. Most of the humans were still involved in family get-togethers in the wake of the holidays. Just the sounds of their footsteps and the feel of each other's presence.
"You all right, Pet?" Spike asked, his eyes darting over to her. She was tense, her hands already gripping the stake she usually kept hidden until the final flourish.
"Unhunh," Buffy answered, unconvincingly. This silence wasn't quite as normal and comfortable as most. Spike pondered that for a moment. How many different kinds of quiet were there?
"Forgive me for saying so, Love," he began, listening to the rhythm of her footfalls, "but I think you're telling old Spike a bit of a lie."
Buffy turned her head, smiling weakly. "I'm fine. Really."
"All right," he answered, his hands involuntarily searching his pockets for a smoke. There were none there. Hadn't been for years. Didn't stop the habit of looking. Spike took a deep breath of the cold air. "Something on your mind then?"
"Other than the me turning into a Vampire possibilities, not really," she snarked in response, trying to be at least a bit light-hearted. It didn't work. He could feel the weight of her worry pumping like thick blood in her veins.
"Can see where that'd worry you, Pet. But we'll sort it out. " Spike reached for her free hand, the one not clutching white knuckled at the stake, and took it inside of his. Enveloped it. He was still amazed how her hand just.fit.inside of his.
Buffy relaxed just the smallest bit. "I know," she answered, trying to find that little thread of optimism. She was quiet a moment, searching the night sky for answers. Only finding stars. "Why would someone do this to me? To us?"
"Could be any number of reasons, Pet," Spike replied, pulling her closer until her hip brushed his with every stride. "If it is truly that *git* we sent sprawling to hell, my guess would be to get to Emma."
Buffy crinkled her nose, staring up at his deep blue eyes. "But why? I mean, why try and make us. into each other."
He had to chuckle. Hadn't thought about it quite like that. "Well, "Spike sighed, letting go of her hand and wrapping an arm around her. "Guess is that it's a diversion. Make you all fangy grr, you'll be too upset to keep your guard up. Not to mention, preoccupied with the burning in sunlight and bloodlust."
"And can we *stop* with the graphic depiction?" Buffy whined, shuddering at the thought. "Besides, it still leaves you. Only effect it's had there is your generally feeling of non-tastiness towards blood."
Again, Spike had to chuckle. "There've been other things. But wouldn't need them. You should know by now, Pet, the best way to disarm me is threaten you or the tots. Can't seem to think straight when you're in danger."
She smiled, a big night-lighting smile. "I knew I liked you for some reason. All sweet and sappy and romantic."
"Don't say that too loud, Love. Might ruin my reputation," Spike chided, squeezing her a little tighter. His reputation had been completely obliterated the minute he fell in love with the Slayer and he knew it.
"So, what other things?" Buffy asked, her feet still making tiny tapping noises as her boots crossed the pavement.
"Come again?" Spike asked, brushing hair from her face with the back of his hand.
"When I said the only effect it was having on you was the blood thing, you said that there were other things. What other things?" Buffy asked, turning a corner into their second Sunnydale cemetery of the night. It constantly amazed her how many grave yards there were in such a small town. Made her think they hadn't worked nearly hard enough.
Spike sighed, rounding the corner still brushing against her hip. "Well, other than my lack of taste for blood, and this incredible urge to become a martyr, there's this sodding nasty feeling of goodness and light. How do you live with it, Pet? All that sunshine and roses and save the world for the sake of small dogs and baby seals?"
Buffy laughed, her whole body shaking. "You've got to be kidding me."
"No, Pet," Spike replied, smiling. "Not quite sure how to describe it, but I think I get the idea of where all the pressure comes in."
"What pressure?" Buffy asked, strolling peacefully now. Spike always knew how to take the edge off.
"Pressure to save the sodding world all the time. Couldn't understand why you *always* did the right thing. Tried to at least. Why you cared bout the fate of the lot of them. But you have this.huge.bloody light shoved inside of you telling you what to do and when and how. Don't know how you've made it this long without blowing a circuit," Spike explained, his free hand rubbing his brow.
"It's not bad," Buffy answered. "The light bit. You get used to it."
"Not bloody likely," Spike complained, his fingers working his temples.
Buffy giggled. Then she laughed. She bit her lip to stop the tears from falling down her face. Spike looked at her, head tilted, eyebrow cocked in concern. Maybe this wasn't just making her more like him, but it was also making her a little off her rocker. "What is it then?"
She blushed a deep crimson. "Nothing."
"No, Pet," Spike prodded, catching her infectious grin. "What?"
The blush became impossibly deeper. "I'm such a perv." Her hand covered her face innocently.
"Now that I like to hear," he responded, his eyebrows waggling joyously. "But why right now?"
"Um," she giggled. "That part about huge and shoved inside."
If it was possible for a Vampire to blush, Spike was giving it his best go. He'd loved her all along, but her sense of adventure had come a long way. "Trying to tell me something, Love?" He snarked, spinning her to face him. He backed her against the wall of a mausoleum, lowering his face until he spoke right against her lips.
"Since I'm all missing the light. thought maybe you could come up with something to replace it. You know. since I'm all unfilled," she taunted, her voice low and sultry. His heart skipped a beat. How he ever thought he had loved before was beyond him.
"Well, if you're asking nicely."
A noise made both of their heads spin. Just as his lips brushed her ear, a small group of Vampires emerged from the mausoleum, drunk and fired up for the night. Buffy could feel the blood pumping, not sure if it was from Spike or from the sudden urge to fight. Spike looked at her for a long moment. That horrid bright light burned inside of him. "Looks like this might have to wait, Pet."
Buffy sighed, letting the fight overcome the incredible, unbridled lust. "Can we kill them at least?"
"Vampire's love. That's your job," Spike answered, inhaling her scent in one deep breath, then pushing himself away from her.
"Yippee," Buffy chirped, darting out from under his arm and taking off towards the fight.
"I don't see why you don't just let me *go* there. I'm telling you *now* he is with Luke," Anya complained, her arms crossed over her chest and her leg cocked out to the side. Giles still sat on the hard stool, facing her. She was pressed against the wall looking annoyed like only Anya could.
"Because Willow and Tara have devised a way to ascertain whether or not Draconius is truly even there without you being in danger. You should be able to hang about long enough to try and sort out their plan without them ever knowing that you've arrived," Giles countered, shifting his sleeping son against his chest. The baby murmured and rested his head against Giles' shoulder.
"I *know* Luke. He's not a smart demon, Rupert. I can just ask. If I ask the right way, he'll spill it in a second." She paused, musing, a small grin breaking on her face. "Besides, he's always had a little crush on me. I can pass freely between hell dimensions and here."
"As much as I'm enthused that the hell god in residence of the consecutive dimension has a soft spot for you, my dear, I don't find it safe. Not to mention, have you even *tried* to pass freely between hell and earth lately?" Giles responded, the anger growing in his voice. He stood, bouncing the child a bit and patting the boy's back. Randy gurgled and fell back to sleep.
Anya looked at him a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well, no. But why wouldn't I be able to?"
"Demon or no," Giles snapped, "You've got a human soul, Anya. It may affect your freedom of movement in ways that you have not grown accustomed to."
"Hunh," Anya sighed, leaning back against the kitchen wall. "Hadn't really thought of that."
Giles looked at her, still angry. She wasn't getting the point. Not the real one. Not the reason he didn't want her to go. "That's the problem, Anya. You've all the good intentions in the world, but you don't always think."
Her face flared an angry red and Giles was suddenly thankful that he was holding their son. Still, he looked quickly down to check for signs of evisceration. They say that mortal wounds don't hurt half as much as a paper cut. His body parts were present and accounted for. When he raised his eyes again, her face had become calm, serene, the angry red fading into the sweet, honeyed glow of her cheeks. "Aw, Rupie."
Giles was startled a moment, his mouth twitching. "Y...yes?"
"You're worried about me!" Anya enthused. "You don't want me to go because you're afraid I won't come back!" She ran towards him full throttle, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly knocking his glasses off in the process. She artfully avoided catching the baby in the death grip.
"And you're just figuring this out now, Anya?" Giles asked, when he thought it might again be safe to speak.
"You should have just said so," she cooed into his ear, letting her lips brush the sensitive skin. Giles shuddered slightly. Anya had always been an amazing woman.
"I suppose I should have," Giles commented, wrapping his free arm around her waist. "But I thought that it went without saying."
"Say it anyway," Anya whispered, pressing herself against him in all the most delicious ways.
"I don't want you in danger. I don't want you to go and take the chance that you won't come back. I don't want you to leave Randy, nor me. I love you, Anya," Giles admitted, burying his face in her hair and kissing the crown of her head.
She sighed, a huge grin breaking out on her face. "You're such a yummy human. Now I know why I like you so much."
Giles shook his head, chuckling. "You like me?"
She pulled her head from his chest staring up at him. "I love you. Thought that went without saying."
"Say it anyway," Giles answered, brushing his lips to hers. "And don't go there, all right?"
Anya sighed. "All right. I'll just take a peek."
Buffy dove into the middle of the pack of Vampires with reckless abandon. Spike could barely keep track of the blinding flash of blonde hair and the streak of her tan jacket in the moonlight. He dove in behind her, absolutely certain that they shouldn't be approaching them like this, but knowing that if he didn't back her up, she was liable to get herself killed.
There were eight, all told. Many of them older. Two were fledglings. She went after them first. Good tactics, Spike thought. Take out the weak and then move in for the stronger. That way some pesky fledgling doesn't clean your clock as you're standing their panting from the big battle. Spike fought his way through behind her, punching and kicking and pushing until he could see her again.
But what he saw wasn't her.
Buffy had knocked both of the young ones on the ground and was standing, one tiny booted foot on each of them. She had leaned forward, extending her reach, and was pummeling them both, beating the life, or the unlife, out of them with her fists. It took Spike a second to grasp it. To realize the difference. Except possibly to him, she'd never been cruel to her prey. She'd never treated them as prey. She fought as much as she had too to stake the creature and put it out of its misery. Buffy had never been one for the pain.
Until now.
Blood spattered from the mouths of both fledglings as Spike fended off the older Vampires, trying to stay alive enough to bring her back. "Buffy?" He called out, tossing punches that were almost lethal, but only knocking the older Vampires away from him enough to move forward. "Buffy?"
She crouched low, looking almost feral and turned her head at the sound. Buffy's eyes glinted in the moonlight, a strange eerie glow that hadn't been there before. She smiled, her teeth not quite fangs, but whiter, longer than before. Spike shuddered at the sight.
"Buffy, just kill them! They've got a sodding girl with them. Human. No time to waste beating them senseless," Spike stammered, trying to recover from the sight of her spattered in blood and gleaming at him in the dark of night.
"Don't think they had much sense to begin with," Buffy quipped, plunging the stake into one heart and then the other. She disappeared behind a shadow of dust.
A left hook took Spike down. It was a sucker punch coming almost from behind, but the effect was the same. Vampires didn't fight fair. He would be the first one to tell someone that. The dirt and grass were cool against his cheek as he hit the dirt.
A primal scream filled his ears and he lifted his head, shaking the stars and cartoon birds from his vision. There she was, taking on the Vampire who had taken him down, screaming, teeth bared, battering the creature with all she had and a bit more. Spike pulled himself to his knees, grabbing the stake that had rolled from his hand and jumped up, joining her in the fray.
There had been six. Six adult Vampires. Two of which, Spike sensed, were older than he. Strong Vampires. Not the kind that usually spent their nights haunting Sunnydale. That, in and of itself, would have been cause for concern, but there was more to worry about tonight. The little blonde whirlwind fighting beside him. Yes, she was still defending the good. Yes, she was still fighting by his side. But what was once grace and poetry was now fists and fangs. Her body was a weapon. And she reveled in it. Joyously giggling at every punch she threw. Every kick that sent a creature skittering across the grass. Ever drop of blood she could force them to bleed before she finally put them out of their misery.
Spike had mercifully dusted all but the one that she had been fighting with. The oldest of the pack. He was strong, but she was angry and happy and full of a rage that she had no clue how to control. Her punch landed on the Vampire's temple, knocking it to the ground. Buffy pounced like a jungle cat onto its prey and straddled the creature's chest. She could have staked him then. But instead, she leaned forward, whispering something into its ear that made his eyes grow wide. She righted herself, and then plunged the stake into its heart.
Spike stood, watching in horror, wondering if this is what she had seen. If this is what she had thought when they had done battle. If this is why she couldn't bring herself to love him right away. It shouldn't have bothered him. He had a patent on that kind of fight. That kind of violence without torture. But coming from her, it was just wrong.
She knelt on the ground in her victim's dust and turned, smiling. "That was fun," she purred, pushing herself to her feet.
Spike walked towards her cautiously, not sure if she had gotten it all out. If she was done with the pummeling for the evening. Not that he cared. Wouldn't have been the first time they'd fought to the pain. But bigger things were on his mind. Control. She was taking on his demon, but where he'd had over a century to tame it, make it work to his advantage, she had one day. One long, frightening day.
What happens if she gets hungry? Spike thought.
"What did you say to him, Pet?" He asked, sensing her spirit still inside this tainted shell in front of him. She was calming, her heart slowing.
Buffy smiled and her teeth were still white and shining in the moonlight. "That was between me and It."
"I see," Spike said, choosing to drop it for now. "Sure you won't tell? Seemed to scare the fangs off of him."
Buffy sighed. "You're no fun. I told him that I'd send him to hell, where he belonged. Where all of them belonged."
The words shook Spike. He had become more human in the past half a decade, but he was still a Vampire. Still one of them. "Buffy, is that what you really think?"
Her brow furrowed, her eyes glittering up at him. "Is what what I really think?"
"That all Vampires belong in hell," Spike said, moving towards the mausoleum. He watched her sniff the air, noticing the whimpering girl curled against the brick wall. Slowly, she stalked towards her, scenting her, dropping to her knees at the girl's feet. Spike watched as Buffy ran her face just millimetres from the girl's skin, as if inhaling her taste, then ran a smooth pink tongue over the girl's wounds. He shuddered in horror.
"Buffy!" He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, picking her up like an errant pup and spinning her towards him. "You should run now," Spike said to the girl. The hapless teen struggled to her feet and then scampered off into the moonlight.
"No fun," Buffy repeated, her eyes now exploring his face with the same feral look that she had worn since the fight began.
Spike took her pretty face between his hands. "Buffy? Listen, Pet."
"Okay," she drew out, her nose nuzzling his neck, her tongue tracing the pulse point at the base. He took her shoulders and pushed her away.
"Love," he whispered, taking her face again. "This spell. It's changing you. Don't want you to do anything you'd regret, all right? You're going to have to listen to me."
Buffy closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his voice. "Okay," she sighed. "What do I do?"
"We need to get you home, Love. Suss out what's going on." He stroked her hair as he spoke, feeling her starting to quiver in his arms. She was remembering. The spell was backing down. Buffy was coming back. But still, her eyes were squeezed tight.
"Spike," she whispered, her breath catching as she began to cry. "God,"
"S'alright, Pet. No harm," he whispered, fighting his own fear. "Just need to control it. I'll help you. You'll be right as rain."
Her eyes flickered open again and they were hers. Green and brilliant and sweet. "Spike, God, I'm so hungry."
To be contd.
Well, it's a little later on Sunday that I had originally expected, but I made it none the less. YAY for that!
I hope to have the next chapter out either Wednesday or Thursday, provided real life stays relatively calm.
Hope all of you are safe and well, and please, let me know how you like the story. The angst has begun!
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: Hunger (Chapter Seventeen 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 . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm .
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: Buffy and Spike patrol. Anya and Giles argue over Anya's role in helping Buffy. The One encounter a group of Vampires and realize that their problems are worlds larger than they thought.
Hunger
The night was chilly. At least for California. The air was crisp and nearly weightless as they walked as they always had. It seemed like an eternity that they had patrolled side by side along the streets and alleys, cemeteries and campuses of this town. In one sense, it had been an eternity. In another, it had been only moments since they had called a truce and became One.
They were silent, as they often were on such walks. The sounds of their footsteps echoed in the chilly night air. Not much was going on. Most of the Vampire and demon population was laying low. Most of the humans were still involved in family get-togethers in the wake of the holidays. Just the sounds of their footsteps and the feel of each other's presence.
"You all right, Pet?" Spike asked, his eyes darting over to her. She was tense, her hands already gripping the stake she usually kept hidden until the final flourish.
"Unhunh," Buffy answered, unconvincingly. This silence wasn't quite as normal and comfortable as most. Spike pondered that for a moment. How many different kinds of quiet were there?
"Forgive me for saying so, Love," he began, listening to the rhythm of her footfalls, "but I think you're telling old Spike a bit of a lie."
Buffy turned her head, smiling weakly. "I'm fine. Really."
"All right," he answered, his hands involuntarily searching his pockets for a smoke. There were none there. Hadn't been for years. Didn't stop the habit of looking. Spike took a deep breath of the cold air. "Something on your mind then?"
"Other than the me turning into a Vampire possibilities, not really," she snarked in response, trying to be at least a bit light-hearted. It didn't work. He could feel the weight of her worry pumping like thick blood in her veins.
"Can see where that'd worry you, Pet. But we'll sort it out. " Spike reached for her free hand, the one not clutching white knuckled at the stake, and took it inside of his. Enveloped it. He was still amazed how her hand just.fit.inside of his.
Buffy relaxed just the smallest bit. "I know," she answered, trying to find that little thread of optimism. She was quiet a moment, searching the night sky for answers. Only finding stars. "Why would someone do this to me? To us?"
"Could be any number of reasons, Pet," Spike replied, pulling her closer until her hip brushed his with every stride. "If it is truly that *git* we sent sprawling to hell, my guess would be to get to Emma."
Buffy crinkled her nose, staring up at his deep blue eyes. "But why? I mean, why try and make us. into each other."
He had to chuckle. Hadn't thought about it quite like that. "Well, "Spike sighed, letting go of her hand and wrapping an arm around her. "Guess is that it's a diversion. Make you all fangy grr, you'll be too upset to keep your guard up. Not to mention, preoccupied with the burning in sunlight and bloodlust."
"And can we *stop* with the graphic depiction?" Buffy whined, shuddering at the thought. "Besides, it still leaves you. Only effect it's had there is your generally feeling of non-tastiness towards blood."
Again, Spike had to chuckle. "There've been other things. But wouldn't need them. You should know by now, Pet, the best way to disarm me is threaten you or the tots. Can't seem to think straight when you're in danger."
She smiled, a big night-lighting smile. "I knew I liked you for some reason. All sweet and sappy and romantic."
"Don't say that too loud, Love. Might ruin my reputation," Spike chided, squeezing her a little tighter. His reputation had been completely obliterated the minute he fell in love with the Slayer and he knew it.
"So, what other things?" Buffy asked, her feet still making tiny tapping noises as her boots crossed the pavement.
"Come again?" Spike asked, brushing hair from her face with the back of his hand.
"When I said the only effect it was having on you was the blood thing, you said that there were other things. What other things?" Buffy asked, turning a corner into their second Sunnydale cemetery of the night. It constantly amazed her how many grave yards there were in such a small town. Made her think they hadn't worked nearly hard enough.
Spike sighed, rounding the corner still brushing against her hip. "Well, other than my lack of taste for blood, and this incredible urge to become a martyr, there's this sodding nasty feeling of goodness and light. How do you live with it, Pet? All that sunshine and roses and save the world for the sake of small dogs and baby seals?"
Buffy laughed, her whole body shaking. "You've got to be kidding me."
"No, Pet," Spike replied, smiling. "Not quite sure how to describe it, but I think I get the idea of where all the pressure comes in."
"What pressure?" Buffy asked, strolling peacefully now. Spike always knew how to take the edge off.
"Pressure to save the sodding world all the time. Couldn't understand why you *always* did the right thing. Tried to at least. Why you cared bout the fate of the lot of them. But you have this.huge.bloody light shoved inside of you telling you what to do and when and how. Don't know how you've made it this long without blowing a circuit," Spike explained, his free hand rubbing his brow.
"It's not bad," Buffy answered. "The light bit. You get used to it."
"Not bloody likely," Spike complained, his fingers working his temples.
Buffy giggled. Then she laughed. She bit her lip to stop the tears from falling down her face. Spike looked at her, head tilted, eyebrow cocked in concern. Maybe this wasn't just making her more like him, but it was also making her a little off her rocker. "What is it then?"
She blushed a deep crimson. "Nothing."
"No, Pet," Spike prodded, catching her infectious grin. "What?"
The blush became impossibly deeper. "I'm such a perv." Her hand covered her face innocently.
"Now that I like to hear," he responded, his eyebrows waggling joyously. "But why right now?"
"Um," she giggled. "That part about huge and shoved inside."
If it was possible for a Vampire to blush, Spike was giving it his best go. He'd loved her all along, but her sense of adventure had come a long way. "Trying to tell me something, Love?" He snarked, spinning her to face him. He backed her against the wall of a mausoleum, lowering his face until he spoke right against her lips.
"Since I'm all missing the light. thought maybe you could come up with something to replace it. You know. since I'm all unfilled," she taunted, her voice low and sultry. His heart skipped a beat. How he ever thought he had loved before was beyond him.
"Well, if you're asking nicely."
A noise made both of their heads spin. Just as his lips brushed her ear, a small group of Vampires emerged from the mausoleum, drunk and fired up for the night. Buffy could feel the blood pumping, not sure if it was from Spike or from the sudden urge to fight. Spike looked at her for a long moment. That horrid bright light burned inside of him. "Looks like this might have to wait, Pet."
Buffy sighed, letting the fight overcome the incredible, unbridled lust. "Can we kill them at least?"
"Vampire's love. That's your job," Spike answered, inhaling her scent in one deep breath, then pushing himself away from her.
"Yippee," Buffy chirped, darting out from under his arm and taking off towards the fight.
"I don't see why you don't just let me *go* there. I'm telling you *now* he is with Luke," Anya complained, her arms crossed over her chest and her leg cocked out to the side. Giles still sat on the hard stool, facing her. She was pressed against the wall looking annoyed like only Anya could.
"Because Willow and Tara have devised a way to ascertain whether or not Draconius is truly even there without you being in danger. You should be able to hang about long enough to try and sort out their plan without them ever knowing that you've arrived," Giles countered, shifting his sleeping son against his chest. The baby murmured and rested his head against Giles' shoulder.
"I *know* Luke. He's not a smart demon, Rupert. I can just ask. If I ask the right way, he'll spill it in a second." She paused, musing, a small grin breaking on her face. "Besides, he's always had a little crush on me. I can pass freely between hell dimensions and here."
"As much as I'm enthused that the hell god in residence of the consecutive dimension has a soft spot for you, my dear, I don't find it safe. Not to mention, have you even *tried* to pass freely between hell and earth lately?" Giles responded, the anger growing in his voice. He stood, bouncing the child a bit and patting the boy's back. Randy gurgled and fell back to sleep.
Anya looked at him a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well, no. But why wouldn't I be able to?"
"Demon or no," Giles snapped, "You've got a human soul, Anya. It may affect your freedom of movement in ways that you have not grown accustomed to."
"Hunh," Anya sighed, leaning back against the kitchen wall. "Hadn't really thought of that."
Giles looked at her, still angry. She wasn't getting the point. Not the real one. Not the reason he didn't want her to go. "That's the problem, Anya. You've all the good intentions in the world, but you don't always think."
Her face flared an angry red and Giles was suddenly thankful that he was holding their son. Still, he looked quickly down to check for signs of evisceration. They say that mortal wounds don't hurt half as much as a paper cut. His body parts were present and accounted for. When he raised his eyes again, her face had become calm, serene, the angry red fading into the sweet, honeyed glow of her cheeks. "Aw, Rupie."
Giles was startled a moment, his mouth twitching. "Y...yes?"
"You're worried about me!" Anya enthused. "You don't want me to go because you're afraid I won't come back!" She ran towards him full throttle, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly knocking his glasses off in the process. She artfully avoided catching the baby in the death grip.
"And you're just figuring this out now, Anya?" Giles asked, when he thought it might again be safe to speak.
"You should have just said so," she cooed into his ear, letting her lips brush the sensitive skin. Giles shuddered slightly. Anya had always been an amazing woman.
"I suppose I should have," Giles commented, wrapping his free arm around her waist. "But I thought that it went without saying."
"Say it anyway," Anya whispered, pressing herself against him in all the most delicious ways.
"I don't want you in danger. I don't want you to go and take the chance that you won't come back. I don't want you to leave Randy, nor me. I love you, Anya," Giles admitted, burying his face in her hair and kissing the crown of her head.
She sighed, a huge grin breaking out on her face. "You're such a yummy human. Now I know why I like you so much."
Giles shook his head, chuckling. "You like me?"
She pulled her head from his chest staring up at him. "I love you. Thought that went without saying."
"Say it anyway," Giles answered, brushing his lips to hers. "And don't go there, all right?"
Anya sighed. "All right. I'll just take a peek."
Buffy dove into the middle of the pack of Vampires with reckless abandon. Spike could barely keep track of the blinding flash of blonde hair and the streak of her tan jacket in the moonlight. He dove in behind her, absolutely certain that they shouldn't be approaching them like this, but knowing that if he didn't back her up, she was liable to get herself killed.
There were eight, all told. Many of them older. Two were fledglings. She went after them first. Good tactics, Spike thought. Take out the weak and then move in for the stronger. That way some pesky fledgling doesn't clean your clock as you're standing their panting from the big battle. Spike fought his way through behind her, punching and kicking and pushing until he could see her again.
But what he saw wasn't her.
Buffy had knocked both of the young ones on the ground and was standing, one tiny booted foot on each of them. She had leaned forward, extending her reach, and was pummeling them both, beating the life, or the unlife, out of them with her fists. It took Spike a second to grasp it. To realize the difference. Except possibly to him, she'd never been cruel to her prey. She'd never treated them as prey. She fought as much as she had too to stake the creature and put it out of its misery. Buffy had never been one for the pain.
Until now.
Blood spattered from the mouths of both fledglings as Spike fended off the older Vampires, trying to stay alive enough to bring her back. "Buffy?" He called out, tossing punches that were almost lethal, but only knocking the older Vampires away from him enough to move forward. "Buffy?"
She crouched low, looking almost feral and turned her head at the sound. Buffy's eyes glinted in the moonlight, a strange eerie glow that hadn't been there before. She smiled, her teeth not quite fangs, but whiter, longer than before. Spike shuddered at the sight.
"Buffy, just kill them! They've got a sodding girl with them. Human. No time to waste beating them senseless," Spike stammered, trying to recover from the sight of her spattered in blood and gleaming at him in the dark of night.
"Don't think they had much sense to begin with," Buffy quipped, plunging the stake into one heart and then the other. She disappeared behind a shadow of dust.
A left hook took Spike down. It was a sucker punch coming almost from behind, but the effect was the same. Vampires didn't fight fair. He would be the first one to tell someone that. The dirt and grass were cool against his cheek as he hit the dirt.
A primal scream filled his ears and he lifted his head, shaking the stars and cartoon birds from his vision. There she was, taking on the Vampire who had taken him down, screaming, teeth bared, battering the creature with all she had and a bit more. Spike pulled himself to his knees, grabbing the stake that had rolled from his hand and jumped up, joining her in the fray.
There had been six. Six adult Vampires. Two of which, Spike sensed, were older than he. Strong Vampires. Not the kind that usually spent their nights haunting Sunnydale. That, in and of itself, would have been cause for concern, but there was more to worry about tonight. The little blonde whirlwind fighting beside him. Yes, she was still defending the good. Yes, she was still fighting by his side. But what was once grace and poetry was now fists and fangs. Her body was a weapon. And she reveled in it. Joyously giggling at every punch she threw. Every kick that sent a creature skittering across the grass. Ever drop of blood she could force them to bleed before she finally put them out of their misery.
Spike had mercifully dusted all but the one that she had been fighting with. The oldest of the pack. He was strong, but she was angry and happy and full of a rage that she had no clue how to control. Her punch landed on the Vampire's temple, knocking it to the ground. Buffy pounced like a jungle cat onto its prey and straddled the creature's chest. She could have staked him then. But instead, she leaned forward, whispering something into its ear that made his eyes grow wide. She righted herself, and then plunged the stake into its heart.
Spike stood, watching in horror, wondering if this is what she had seen. If this is what she had thought when they had done battle. If this is why she couldn't bring herself to love him right away. It shouldn't have bothered him. He had a patent on that kind of fight. That kind of violence without torture. But coming from her, it was just wrong.
She knelt on the ground in her victim's dust and turned, smiling. "That was fun," she purred, pushing herself to her feet.
Spike walked towards her cautiously, not sure if she had gotten it all out. If she was done with the pummeling for the evening. Not that he cared. Wouldn't have been the first time they'd fought to the pain. But bigger things were on his mind. Control. She was taking on his demon, but where he'd had over a century to tame it, make it work to his advantage, she had one day. One long, frightening day.
What happens if she gets hungry? Spike thought.
"What did you say to him, Pet?" He asked, sensing her spirit still inside this tainted shell in front of him. She was calming, her heart slowing.
Buffy smiled and her teeth were still white and shining in the moonlight. "That was between me and It."
"I see," Spike said, choosing to drop it for now. "Sure you won't tell? Seemed to scare the fangs off of him."
Buffy sighed. "You're no fun. I told him that I'd send him to hell, where he belonged. Where all of them belonged."
The words shook Spike. He had become more human in the past half a decade, but he was still a Vampire. Still one of them. "Buffy, is that what you really think?"
Her brow furrowed, her eyes glittering up at him. "Is what what I really think?"
"That all Vampires belong in hell," Spike said, moving towards the mausoleum. He watched her sniff the air, noticing the whimpering girl curled against the brick wall. Slowly, she stalked towards her, scenting her, dropping to her knees at the girl's feet. Spike watched as Buffy ran her face just millimetres from the girl's skin, as if inhaling her taste, then ran a smooth pink tongue over the girl's wounds. He shuddered in horror.
"Buffy!" He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, picking her up like an errant pup and spinning her towards him. "You should run now," Spike said to the girl. The hapless teen struggled to her feet and then scampered off into the moonlight.
"No fun," Buffy repeated, her eyes now exploring his face with the same feral look that she had worn since the fight began.
Spike took her pretty face between his hands. "Buffy? Listen, Pet."
"Okay," she drew out, her nose nuzzling his neck, her tongue tracing the pulse point at the base. He took her shoulders and pushed her away.
"Love," he whispered, taking her face again. "This spell. It's changing you. Don't want you to do anything you'd regret, all right? You're going to have to listen to me."
Buffy closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his voice. "Okay," she sighed. "What do I do?"
"We need to get you home, Love. Suss out what's going on." He stroked her hair as he spoke, feeling her starting to quiver in his arms. She was remembering. The spell was backing down. Buffy was coming back. But still, her eyes were squeezed tight.
"Spike," she whispered, her breath catching as she began to cry. "God,"
"S'alright, Pet. No harm," he whispered, fighting his own fear. "Just need to control it. I'll help you. You'll be right as rain."
Her eyes flickered open again and they were hers. Green and brilliant and sweet. "Spike, God, I'm so hungry."
To be contd.