Chapter 17
Death
Spike and Angel wandered the streets of town, looking for any sign of Buffy, any evidence that she had been there. Having no luck, they passed through several graveyards, splitting up and then meeting at the end of each one to cover more ground. As they entered the fifth cemetery, Spike recognized it as the one he'd called home for three years.
His instincts were running on overload, caused by the upcoming sunrise threatening to spill overhead. His body was screaming for him to take cover, to shield himself before the first rays appeared over the horizon. For the first time since he'd died, he inwardly cursed himself for what he was. In all other aspects, he had always loved being a vampire. He'd tried explaining it to Buffy once, though he really didn't think she'd ever truly understand the utter power and strength he'd felt when he was turned. Though his heart didn't beat and the blood didn't flow through his veins, he'd felt alive for the very first time. He felt like he could do anything. Until now. Right now all he felt was fear.
Fear that he wouldn't be able to find her in time. He swore to himself that he wouldn't give up. He would succeed or go up in a massive ball of flames trying. Almost having reached the middle of the cemetery, he suddenly stopped when he smelled the blood. Slayer blood. He focused on Angel in the distance, who had also caught Buffy's scent, and was rapidly heading back toward him. Before Angel could reach the blonde vampire, Spike had taken off in a mad dash, running in the direction of his old crypt.
He hadn't made it too far when he stopped, paralyzed by the sight in front of him. The smell of the blood was overpowering, lying in puddles, spread over the grass and dirt. In the middle of it all, was the body of his slayer, lying face up on the ground. An all too familiar scene of Buffy entered his mind, and his body froze. He closed his eyes and pictured her, lying in the rubble, after jumping from the tower, to save the world.
He knew he should run to her, help her, but his legs felt like jelly. He was pushed off balance when Angel rushed passed him, kneeling down to attend to her.
"Spike." He thought he heard a voice, but his mind was far too lost in thought to register where it had come from. He had failed her again just like he had done the last time. He should have been with her, protecting her, not....well, he couldn't let his mind conjure up the images of where he was and what he was doing while she was out here all alone. Feelings of guilt and despair threatened to overcome him.
"Spike!" Angel yelled again, trying to get the other vampire's attention.
At once, Spike came back to reality and the situation before him. He willed his body to move, finally scooting over to where she lay. In an instant, relief washed over him when he heard the struggling sound of her heartbeat.
"She's alive," he whispered, almost in an attempt to convince himself it was true.
"Yeah. But we need to get her out of here!" Angel remarked, attempting to pick her up.
Spike pushed the other man away and slid his arms under her body. "No! I've got her."
"Spike....."
"I said I've got her!" he repeated, challenging him to disagree.
Angel nodded, allowing Spike to cradle her in his arms. He looked toward the brightening sky and down at the motionless girl in front of him.
"We'll never make it.... there's not enough time," Angel announced, knowing they couldn't make it back to the house before sunrise.
"There's another place."
Spike took off running, leaving Angel to follow. They approached the crypt and banged loudly, not waiting for Clem to answer before throwing the door open. The demon's head appeared from the trap door leading down below, and he gasped in surprise at his unannounced guests.
"Spike! Man, you're back! And with company." he added, glancing toward the stranger standing beside him. "And the slayer..." he added, noticing her obvious state of apparel. "What happened?!" he asked, rushing over to move a heap of mess from the couch.
"Don't know. But she needs help. Bandages.....supplies..." Spike answered, gently lying her down on the sofa. "I need you to go to her house. Get the watcher."
"Sure, Spike...sure. I'll go right now. Be back in a jiffy," he said, already making his way to the door.
Spike lifted an eyebrow at Clem's choice of words, but shrugged it off, instead focusing on Buffy, who was still unconscious. He moved around to sit on the edge of the couch, facing her, and reached for her hand.
"C'mon slayer, time to wake up, luv," he said, his voice full of emotion. "I know you can hear me."
Angel stepped closer, surprised by the gentle display he wasn't used to seeing from Spike. "Looks like she lost a lot of blood."
Spike shrugged, not wanting to be reminded of the pools he'd seen earlier. "She's gonna be fine. Slayer healing and all. Just needs time 's all." He glanced around, finding a discarded shirt lying in a pile of clothes at the end of the couch. Grabbing it, he began wiping the cuts and abrasions on her face and upper body.
"She needs a hospital." Angel stated, with firmness in his tone.
"Too many questions. She'll be fine here. When the sun's down, we can move her to her own cozy, little bed."
"Or Giles can take her to the hospital when he gets here. He can make something up," Angel argued, already knowing Spike wasn't going to give in.
"No! She stays here! Where I can protect her!" he growled, persistence showering his words.
Angel heard the anger but decided not to back down. "She doesn't need you! She has plenty of other people for that. It's not your job to protect her!"
"It bloody well is!" he yelled, standing suddenly, shoulders back and chest puffed out. "I let her down before.....but not again. Protect her 'til I'm dust."
Angel stared him down. "I can arrange that."
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed out loud in frustration. "Bloody hell, Angel. What are we fightin' for?"
"Because I know you. You're just trying to get in good with Buffy. I just haven't figured out what game you're playing."
"What?" Spike asked, his eyes showing his lack of understanding.
"Playing one against the other. You just left, a girl in your bed, and now you're here trying to act noble, helping Buffy....playing the hero. For what? What do you want from her, as if I couldn't guess?"
"Right now, I just want her to wake up. The rest....is none of your business." He turned around, done with the bickering, and took his seat next to her again.
"I won't let you hurt her," Angel threatened.
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you? The king of the big exits and all. Where were you when she was saving the world? Oh yeah....not here." The bitterness dripped off his tongue and he relished in the reaction he was getting from the other man.
"Don't turn this around, Spike. Buffy knows my reasons."
"Well, I know sod all about your reasons. I just know 'I' was here fighting the big fight, not you. Your say doesn't mean much around here, 'mate'."
"You forget who you're talking to....William."
Spike glared at Angel, surprised by the use of his given name. He left Buffy's side again to approach the older vampire, stopping just inches from him. "Using your trump card? Sorry, peaches. Doesn't work anymore. You lost your power over me the day you ate that gypsy girl. Angelus had power.....not you."
Angel moved in, enraged by Spike's lack of emotion to his threat. "Push me boy, and we'll see who has the power."
Spike stepped back, his lips curled in an evil grin. "Well, well. Might be a touch of the old Angelus in there after all. Good show, mate. Could come in handy with the big nasty we're fightin'." He reached up, his hand patting Angel on the back of his shoulder in a sarcastic display of disobedience toward his elder. "And as much as I would love to take a trip down memory lane, now's not the time."
"You'll get yours, Spike. I just hope I'm there on the other end of the stick when it happens."
The blond ignored the comment, not amused, and turned his attention back to Buffy. "Where is that bloody watcher?"
As if on cue, Giles, followed by Clem, burst through the door. "I'm here! What happened?!" he asked, clearly trying to catch his breath after running the entire distance.
"Something got a hold of her. She's unconscious," Angel answered, stepping away to make room for the other man. "And she's lost a lot of blood."
Giles leaned in, opening the bag of first aid supplies he'd been carrying, and grabbed some antiseptic and bandages. He quickly went to work, tending to her injuries. Spike moved away, allowing him better access to Buffy. He sauntered over to a dark corner, and sat down against the wall.
When Giles was finished, he stood, facing Angel. "That's about all I can do. The rest will take time. Hopefully, she'll wake up soon and she'll be able to explain what happened."
"What if she doesn't..."
"She will!" Spike interrupted from his seat on the floor. "She's the slayer. she's strong."
"Why don't we move her downstairs," Clem suggested. "I have a real nice bed down there. She'd be more comfortable."
Giles shook his head in disagreement. "I really should get her home."
Spike stood up, ready for a confrontation. "She's staying here. At least until nightfall."
"Spike...I really don't think..."
"You might need some one who can fight. With Buffy out of commission, you don't know who's gonna be watching. We can't bloody well help if we're stuck in here, and everyone else is there." He argued, motioning toward Angel.
"Well, I suppose you may have a point." He sighed deeply, contemplating his decision. "Alright... let's get her downstairs then."
Before Giles finished, Spike was already beside her, lifting her from the couch. He headed to the downstairs entrance, being careful not to jar her too much as he climbed down the ladder. He was surprised when no one else followed him down, leaving him some time alone with Buffy. He listened to the voices upstairs for a moment, realizing they had engaged in a conversation that hopefully would keep them for some time.
Moving aside the rumpled blankets, he laid her on the bed, careful not to stir any broken bones she may be nursing. He stood up, walking around to the other side, and crawled onto the mattress, moving close beside her. He laid his body next to hers, his head on his elbow, sharing the same pillow she was on. His hand reached up to brush her blood stained hair away from her face while he concentrated on the labored sound of her breathing. His fingers moved down to her chest, resting them over her heart, needing to feel the steady beat beneath his hand.
Leaning in close to her ear, he began speaking in a soft tone, trying to will her back to him. "Luv, it's time you wake up now, pet."
No response came. He was staring at her, looking for any sign, a change in her breathing pattern, a twitch of her eyes beneath her lids, anything would do. Tears began to form, spilling slowly down his cheeks.
"I lost you once, Buffy. I can't do it again."
He leaned his head down, resting it on her chest, listening to the quiet beating and feeling the pulse of her blood moving through her veins. As long as the blood flowed, she was still with him.
"I've been pushing you away, letting you believe everything that's gone wrong between us was your fault." He caressed her hair tenderly, his tears dampening the material of her shirt.
"But I was wrong. The truth is, I've been pushing you away because I know I don't deserve you. I don't deserve the happiness you make me feel just by being around you. When we're together, I'm more than just a walking corpse. You make me feel alive. That's the power you have over me, slayer."
He wiped the falling tears and tried to regain his composure. "I realized tonight that It'll never be over between us. We have a connection, Buffy. It's harsh, and it burns, but it's real. And I'm tired of fighting it."
He ran his hand down the side of her cheek, caressing her softly. He closed his eyes, moving his head beside hers on the pillow. There was nothing he could do but wait for her to wake up.
He found himself starting to doze off, when he was startled out of sleep by a presence behind him. He shot up, his body instinctively moving closer to protect Buffy. His head snapped around, disbelief pouring from his eyes.
"So lost, my William. I couldn't save you before... but I can save you now."
"What... how?" he stuttered, his shock getting the best of him. His eyes focused as if he were trying to wake from a dream, or a nightmare, as this was better apt to be. He prayed his mind was playing tricks on him, but Drusilla was standing there, not ten feet in front of him.
"Look at her, Spike. The slayer you love so much. The one that took everything away. Made you weak."
She began to move closer, making him ease that much farther into Buffy's space. The dumbfounded look on his face finally gave way to anger.
"You're not Drusilla."
"Oh, but I am. And I'm here to help you find your way. I've seen it, Spike. The way it should be." She was at the edge of the bed, leaning into him, one knee on the mattress, moving closer.
"I know what you really want... what you need.....couldn't you smell it? All that delicious wasted blood?" she whispered.
He was too confused to speak. Buffy said The First could take on any form. Surely, this had to be the evil in question, he told himself. But it seemed so real.
"Look at her, lying there, weak and helpless. She's dying and only you can stop it."
He looked at her, lost in her eyes, not able to avoid the words she was speaking.
"You can have her, Spike. Do what's in your nature."
He turned to Buffy, longing to do what was being suggested to him. He was lost, his desperation to hold onto her overpowering his reasoning. He tried to fight the urge, but he felt her blood crying out to him. His eyes focused intensely on the scar she bore on her neck. The scar he had avoided for so long.until now. His demon wanted to tear into her, marking her as his own. He had never been told whose mark she wore, but he had no doubt who it was that had tasted her.
"Do it, my Spike. She calls to you. She can be yours forever....."
He dipped in low, his lips finding the scar and circling around it. The blood was pulsing through her veins, the sound intoxicating to his ears. His demon emerged, moving her head gently to the side away from him, allowing better access for what was to come.
"That's it. You know what you have to do. You thought you were a tamed puppy. I know better.... I know what you really are... the animal inside. Feed my bad, bad boy, and make her part of our family."
Yellow eyes stared down at the unconscious girl, confusion clouding his mind. He wanted to drink her, wanted to taste the sweet nectar of slayer blood sliding down his throat. Not any slayer.....his slayer. His tongue traced along the backs of his teeth, now sharp and angled, waiting to slip inside.
Noting his hesitation, Drusilla leaned in closer, urging him to take what he wanted. "What are you waiting for, Spike? She'll die if you don't take her. Can you bare for that to happen again?"
She placed her hands on his back, pushing him forward onto Buffy. He repositioned himself, moving his leg over top of her body, straddling her sleeping form. He felt the impulses taking over and the excitement giving his body a sexual charge. He longed to be inside of her, taking her whole body as he took the life from her veins. Knowing there wasn't much time, and that he could be interrupted at any moment, he would have to forego what his brain was yelling for him to do. His erection almost painful, trapped inside the material of his jeans, he rubbed against her, making it that much worse to ignore.
"Take her, my Spike."
His eyes traveled to Drusilla, and then back to the exposed flesh begging for his bite. He leaned in, his tongue again circling her previous scar. His lips found her neck, sucking gently, pulling the blood to the surface. With a growl, he plunged inside, his incisors tearing at the skin, letting the blood flow freely into his mouth. Two large gulps, and he slowed his pace, wanting to savor the taste and feel of Buffy beneath him. His mind blocked out his surroundings, listening only to the sounds of her blood and heartbeat. Until he heard her moan.
He froze, fangs still imbedded deep inside, he listened. Her heart rate had sped, an unusual occurrence since it should have been slowing down.
And then she whispered, one breathless and strangled word.
"Spike."
He pulled out, his fangs retracting, along with his features back to his human mask. With stealth speed, he was off the bed and backing against the wall, shocked at what he'd almost done. No sign of Drusilla or anyone else present in the room, he shot up the stairs, guilt and panic guiding his actions. He grabbed the first blanket he saw off of the couch and draped it over his head. Ignoring questions from the other men, he threw the door open, darting out into the bright sunlight.
TBC
Death
Spike and Angel wandered the streets of town, looking for any sign of Buffy, any evidence that she had been there. Having no luck, they passed through several graveyards, splitting up and then meeting at the end of each one to cover more ground. As they entered the fifth cemetery, Spike recognized it as the one he'd called home for three years.
His instincts were running on overload, caused by the upcoming sunrise threatening to spill overhead. His body was screaming for him to take cover, to shield himself before the first rays appeared over the horizon. For the first time since he'd died, he inwardly cursed himself for what he was. In all other aspects, he had always loved being a vampire. He'd tried explaining it to Buffy once, though he really didn't think she'd ever truly understand the utter power and strength he'd felt when he was turned. Though his heart didn't beat and the blood didn't flow through his veins, he'd felt alive for the very first time. He felt like he could do anything. Until now. Right now all he felt was fear.
Fear that he wouldn't be able to find her in time. He swore to himself that he wouldn't give up. He would succeed or go up in a massive ball of flames trying. Almost having reached the middle of the cemetery, he suddenly stopped when he smelled the blood. Slayer blood. He focused on Angel in the distance, who had also caught Buffy's scent, and was rapidly heading back toward him. Before Angel could reach the blonde vampire, Spike had taken off in a mad dash, running in the direction of his old crypt.
He hadn't made it too far when he stopped, paralyzed by the sight in front of him. The smell of the blood was overpowering, lying in puddles, spread over the grass and dirt. In the middle of it all, was the body of his slayer, lying face up on the ground. An all too familiar scene of Buffy entered his mind, and his body froze. He closed his eyes and pictured her, lying in the rubble, after jumping from the tower, to save the world.
He knew he should run to her, help her, but his legs felt like jelly. He was pushed off balance when Angel rushed passed him, kneeling down to attend to her.
"Spike." He thought he heard a voice, but his mind was far too lost in thought to register where it had come from. He had failed her again just like he had done the last time. He should have been with her, protecting her, not....well, he couldn't let his mind conjure up the images of where he was and what he was doing while she was out here all alone. Feelings of guilt and despair threatened to overcome him.
"Spike!" Angel yelled again, trying to get the other vampire's attention.
At once, Spike came back to reality and the situation before him. He willed his body to move, finally scooting over to where she lay. In an instant, relief washed over him when he heard the struggling sound of her heartbeat.
"She's alive," he whispered, almost in an attempt to convince himself it was true.
"Yeah. But we need to get her out of here!" Angel remarked, attempting to pick her up.
Spike pushed the other man away and slid his arms under her body. "No! I've got her."
"Spike....."
"I said I've got her!" he repeated, challenging him to disagree.
Angel nodded, allowing Spike to cradle her in his arms. He looked toward the brightening sky and down at the motionless girl in front of him.
"We'll never make it.... there's not enough time," Angel announced, knowing they couldn't make it back to the house before sunrise.
"There's another place."
Spike took off running, leaving Angel to follow. They approached the crypt and banged loudly, not waiting for Clem to answer before throwing the door open. The demon's head appeared from the trap door leading down below, and he gasped in surprise at his unannounced guests.
"Spike! Man, you're back! And with company." he added, glancing toward the stranger standing beside him. "And the slayer..." he added, noticing her obvious state of apparel. "What happened?!" he asked, rushing over to move a heap of mess from the couch.
"Don't know. But she needs help. Bandages.....supplies..." Spike answered, gently lying her down on the sofa. "I need you to go to her house. Get the watcher."
"Sure, Spike...sure. I'll go right now. Be back in a jiffy," he said, already making his way to the door.
Spike lifted an eyebrow at Clem's choice of words, but shrugged it off, instead focusing on Buffy, who was still unconscious. He moved around to sit on the edge of the couch, facing her, and reached for her hand.
"C'mon slayer, time to wake up, luv," he said, his voice full of emotion. "I know you can hear me."
Angel stepped closer, surprised by the gentle display he wasn't used to seeing from Spike. "Looks like she lost a lot of blood."
Spike shrugged, not wanting to be reminded of the pools he'd seen earlier. "She's gonna be fine. Slayer healing and all. Just needs time 's all." He glanced around, finding a discarded shirt lying in a pile of clothes at the end of the couch. Grabbing it, he began wiping the cuts and abrasions on her face and upper body.
"She needs a hospital." Angel stated, with firmness in his tone.
"Too many questions. She'll be fine here. When the sun's down, we can move her to her own cozy, little bed."
"Or Giles can take her to the hospital when he gets here. He can make something up," Angel argued, already knowing Spike wasn't going to give in.
"No! She stays here! Where I can protect her!" he growled, persistence showering his words.
Angel heard the anger but decided not to back down. "She doesn't need you! She has plenty of other people for that. It's not your job to protect her!"
"It bloody well is!" he yelled, standing suddenly, shoulders back and chest puffed out. "I let her down before.....but not again. Protect her 'til I'm dust."
Angel stared him down. "I can arrange that."
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed out loud in frustration. "Bloody hell, Angel. What are we fightin' for?"
"Because I know you. You're just trying to get in good with Buffy. I just haven't figured out what game you're playing."
"What?" Spike asked, his eyes showing his lack of understanding.
"Playing one against the other. You just left, a girl in your bed, and now you're here trying to act noble, helping Buffy....playing the hero. For what? What do you want from her, as if I couldn't guess?"
"Right now, I just want her to wake up. The rest....is none of your business." He turned around, done with the bickering, and took his seat next to her again.
"I won't let you hurt her," Angel threatened.
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you? The king of the big exits and all. Where were you when she was saving the world? Oh yeah....not here." The bitterness dripped off his tongue and he relished in the reaction he was getting from the other man.
"Don't turn this around, Spike. Buffy knows my reasons."
"Well, I know sod all about your reasons. I just know 'I' was here fighting the big fight, not you. Your say doesn't mean much around here, 'mate'."
"You forget who you're talking to....William."
Spike glared at Angel, surprised by the use of his given name. He left Buffy's side again to approach the older vampire, stopping just inches from him. "Using your trump card? Sorry, peaches. Doesn't work anymore. You lost your power over me the day you ate that gypsy girl. Angelus had power.....not you."
Angel moved in, enraged by Spike's lack of emotion to his threat. "Push me boy, and we'll see who has the power."
Spike stepped back, his lips curled in an evil grin. "Well, well. Might be a touch of the old Angelus in there after all. Good show, mate. Could come in handy with the big nasty we're fightin'." He reached up, his hand patting Angel on the back of his shoulder in a sarcastic display of disobedience toward his elder. "And as much as I would love to take a trip down memory lane, now's not the time."
"You'll get yours, Spike. I just hope I'm there on the other end of the stick when it happens."
The blond ignored the comment, not amused, and turned his attention back to Buffy. "Where is that bloody watcher?"
As if on cue, Giles, followed by Clem, burst through the door. "I'm here! What happened?!" he asked, clearly trying to catch his breath after running the entire distance.
"Something got a hold of her. She's unconscious," Angel answered, stepping away to make room for the other man. "And she's lost a lot of blood."
Giles leaned in, opening the bag of first aid supplies he'd been carrying, and grabbed some antiseptic and bandages. He quickly went to work, tending to her injuries. Spike moved away, allowing him better access to Buffy. He sauntered over to a dark corner, and sat down against the wall.
When Giles was finished, he stood, facing Angel. "That's about all I can do. The rest will take time. Hopefully, she'll wake up soon and she'll be able to explain what happened."
"What if she doesn't..."
"She will!" Spike interrupted from his seat on the floor. "She's the slayer. she's strong."
"Why don't we move her downstairs," Clem suggested. "I have a real nice bed down there. She'd be more comfortable."
Giles shook his head in disagreement. "I really should get her home."
Spike stood up, ready for a confrontation. "She's staying here. At least until nightfall."
"Spike...I really don't think..."
"You might need some one who can fight. With Buffy out of commission, you don't know who's gonna be watching. We can't bloody well help if we're stuck in here, and everyone else is there." He argued, motioning toward Angel.
"Well, I suppose you may have a point." He sighed deeply, contemplating his decision. "Alright... let's get her downstairs then."
Before Giles finished, Spike was already beside her, lifting her from the couch. He headed to the downstairs entrance, being careful not to jar her too much as he climbed down the ladder. He was surprised when no one else followed him down, leaving him some time alone with Buffy. He listened to the voices upstairs for a moment, realizing they had engaged in a conversation that hopefully would keep them for some time.
Moving aside the rumpled blankets, he laid her on the bed, careful not to stir any broken bones she may be nursing. He stood up, walking around to the other side, and crawled onto the mattress, moving close beside her. He laid his body next to hers, his head on his elbow, sharing the same pillow she was on. His hand reached up to brush her blood stained hair away from her face while he concentrated on the labored sound of her breathing. His fingers moved down to her chest, resting them over her heart, needing to feel the steady beat beneath his hand.
Leaning in close to her ear, he began speaking in a soft tone, trying to will her back to him. "Luv, it's time you wake up now, pet."
No response came. He was staring at her, looking for any sign, a change in her breathing pattern, a twitch of her eyes beneath her lids, anything would do. Tears began to form, spilling slowly down his cheeks.
"I lost you once, Buffy. I can't do it again."
He leaned his head down, resting it on her chest, listening to the quiet beating and feeling the pulse of her blood moving through her veins. As long as the blood flowed, she was still with him.
"I've been pushing you away, letting you believe everything that's gone wrong between us was your fault." He caressed her hair tenderly, his tears dampening the material of her shirt.
"But I was wrong. The truth is, I've been pushing you away because I know I don't deserve you. I don't deserve the happiness you make me feel just by being around you. When we're together, I'm more than just a walking corpse. You make me feel alive. That's the power you have over me, slayer."
He wiped the falling tears and tried to regain his composure. "I realized tonight that It'll never be over between us. We have a connection, Buffy. It's harsh, and it burns, but it's real. And I'm tired of fighting it."
He ran his hand down the side of her cheek, caressing her softly. He closed his eyes, moving his head beside hers on the pillow. There was nothing he could do but wait for her to wake up.
He found himself starting to doze off, when he was startled out of sleep by a presence behind him. He shot up, his body instinctively moving closer to protect Buffy. His head snapped around, disbelief pouring from his eyes.
"So lost, my William. I couldn't save you before... but I can save you now."
"What... how?" he stuttered, his shock getting the best of him. His eyes focused as if he were trying to wake from a dream, or a nightmare, as this was better apt to be. He prayed his mind was playing tricks on him, but Drusilla was standing there, not ten feet in front of him.
"Look at her, Spike. The slayer you love so much. The one that took everything away. Made you weak."
She began to move closer, making him ease that much farther into Buffy's space. The dumbfounded look on his face finally gave way to anger.
"You're not Drusilla."
"Oh, but I am. And I'm here to help you find your way. I've seen it, Spike. The way it should be." She was at the edge of the bed, leaning into him, one knee on the mattress, moving closer.
"I know what you really want... what you need.....couldn't you smell it? All that delicious wasted blood?" she whispered.
He was too confused to speak. Buffy said The First could take on any form. Surely, this had to be the evil in question, he told himself. But it seemed so real.
"Look at her, lying there, weak and helpless. She's dying and only you can stop it."
He looked at her, lost in her eyes, not able to avoid the words she was speaking.
"You can have her, Spike. Do what's in your nature."
He turned to Buffy, longing to do what was being suggested to him. He was lost, his desperation to hold onto her overpowering his reasoning. He tried to fight the urge, but he felt her blood crying out to him. His eyes focused intensely on the scar she bore on her neck. The scar he had avoided for so long.until now. His demon wanted to tear into her, marking her as his own. He had never been told whose mark she wore, but he had no doubt who it was that had tasted her.
"Do it, my Spike. She calls to you. She can be yours forever....."
He dipped in low, his lips finding the scar and circling around it. The blood was pulsing through her veins, the sound intoxicating to his ears. His demon emerged, moving her head gently to the side away from him, allowing better access for what was to come.
"That's it. You know what you have to do. You thought you were a tamed puppy. I know better.... I know what you really are... the animal inside. Feed my bad, bad boy, and make her part of our family."
Yellow eyes stared down at the unconscious girl, confusion clouding his mind. He wanted to drink her, wanted to taste the sweet nectar of slayer blood sliding down his throat. Not any slayer.....his slayer. His tongue traced along the backs of his teeth, now sharp and angled, waiting to slip inside.
Noting his hesitation, Drusilla leaned in closer, urging him to take what he wanted. "What are you waiting for, Spike? She'll die if you don't take her. Can you bare for that to happen again?"
She placed her hands on his back, pushing him forward onto Buffy. He repositioned himself, moving his leg over top of her body, straddling her sleeping form. He felt the impulses taking over and the excitement giving his body a sexual charge. He longed to be inside of her, taking her whole body as he took the life from her veins. Knowing there wasn't much time, and that he could be interrupted at any moment, he would have to forego what his brain was yelling for him to do. His erection almost painful, trapped inside the material of his jeans, he rubbed against her, making it that much worse to ignore.
"Take her, my Spike."
His eyes traveled to Drusilla, and then back to the exposed flesh begging for his bite. He leaned in, his tongue again circling her previous scar. His lips found her neck, sucking gently, pulling the blood to the surface. With a growl, he plunged inside, his incisors tearing at the skin, letting the blood flow freely into his mouth. Two large gulps, and he slowed his pace, wanting to savor the taste and feel of Buffy beneath him. His mind blocked out his surroundings, listening only to the sounds of her blood and heartbeat. Until he heard her moan.
He froze, fangs still imbedded deep inside, he listened. Her heart rate had sped, an unusual occurrence since it should have been slowing down.
And then she whispered, one breathless and strangled word.
"Spike."
He pulled out, his fangs retracting, along with his features back to his human mask. With stealth speed, he was off the bed and backing against the wall, shocked at what he'd almost done. No sign of Drusilla or anyone else present in the room, he shot up the stairs, guilt and panic guiding his actions. He grabbed the first blanket he saw off of the couch and draped it over his head. Ignoring questions from the other men, he threw the door open, darting out into the bright sunlight.
TBC