"Lucy, I'm home!" Buffy called into their apartment of four days as she closed the door and set her bags down.
"I bloody hate that show," her handsome male friend called from the bedroom where he was on the computer, studying Mapquests of the surrounding area.
"How can you hate I Love Lucy?" she gasped, entering the doorway and taking in his shirtless appearance with artistic appreciation.
"Simple. It's sodding awful." He turned the chair around and slid out of it, coming towards the entrance which framed his girl. "I hope you got me my Wheetabix." She rolled her eyes as he embraced her, burying his head in her floral-scented hair.
"I almost forgot, but then happened to glance at my shopping list, and decided to take a second look at the item circled, underlined, exclamation-pointed, and with stars drawn around it."
"You forgot my vodka the other day." She stood on her tiptoes to plant a tiny, happy kiss on his smooth lips.
"I didn't forget it; I'm not old enough to buy it, Spike." He followed her to the door to pick up her two grocery bags, and then to the kitchen where he helped her shelf the newly purchased food. "What did you do today?"
"I scoped out the area on the computer, though I still prefer leaning the layout myself. There's a dozen shoddy complexes in the area; should make many a meal for me."
"Remember what you promised; only bad guys." He sighed at the reiteration.
"I swear, luv. Pickpockets, rapists, prostitutes, maybe a crime lord or two." She nodded and smiled, and went to go put a carton of orange juice in the fridge.
After the incident with the man at the motel, she had begged him to only feed upon society's dregs. Food was food to the Vampire, and if it would keep him from disappointing Buffy, it was worth the extra few minutes of sniffing to track down a do-wronger. It was how they'd come into the apartment; Spike had tracked two convenience store robbers back to the small, but clean and cozy set of rooms. Consisting of a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen/miniscule dining area, living room, front hall, and balcony, it came equipped with a television set, phone service, computer with internet, fully furnished, and cupboards well-stocked with tofu and cheap beer. Luckily, they had found plenty of money under the mattress, which Buffy was using to buy edible food and drink for the new residents. They knew they could only live there for a few weeks, a month at tops, but they would repeat the house-hunting process in the same way the next time. For now, Spike felt comfortable leaving her alone at night when he went a-hunting, and was even fine with her leaving the house at certain points during the day to stock up. In the future, she was interested in going back to school, under a false name of course, and he wouldn't mind finding some undead buddies to hang with when she was at said establishment. For now, though, Buffy could almost compare them to newlyweds, what with their developing pattern of staying home at all hours, unless it was truly necessary to venture from their little sanctuary. A good percentage of that time was being spent in bed, adding to the similarity.
"What should we do tonight?" she asked as she finished putting away the items. He hopped up on the counter, and let his eyes slide slowly over her California-girl form. Dressed in snug jeans and a tank top she'd insisted on paying for (though they'd used stolen money; he decided not to point the irony out to her in the event that it got her riled up again), she looked radiant.
"I can think of a few things," he suggested in a much deeper voice than he'd intended, licking his lips. She giggled, and tucked her hair behind her ears.
"I was thinking more along the lines of that thing."
"What thing, pet?"
"That thing you said I could do once things settled down..." she trailed off, looking hopefully at him. Spike sighed, and slid down from the counter.
"I think it's too soon, baby. You've only been gone a week."
"My mom could have worried herself into an early grave by now. I want to do it, Spike." he sighed again, remembering making the promise to her that she could get ahold of her mum to reassure the lady she was alright.
"I suppose, if you were willing to wait for me to go feed, and nick a car along the way, we could drive to an out-of-city payphone and be back before sunrise. But if you don't want to wait, we don't have-"
"Thankyou thankyou thankyou, Spike!" she squealed as she threw herself into his arms, peppering kisses on his bare chest. He chuckled, holding her to him.
"So easy to make you happy." He kissed the top of her head. "But what shall we do in the mean time?"
"Let me guess; you can think of a few things?" He scooped her up in answer, and carried her into their bedroom. The hilarity of the situation- A Vampire Master playing house with an underage human girl- struck him often, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment. He dumped her on the bed, adopted a sinister, yet human, looking face, and crawled up the bed towards her.
"Don't hurt me, Mr. Vampire," she mock-pleaded, a smile evident in her voice, scooting backwards.
"Why not, little girl?"
"Because I'm terribly afraid of your fangs. I don't want them to bite me." He reached her when she couldn't back up anymore, and pulled himself over her tiny body.
"Not like this, you mean?" he asked, letting his blunt teeth just graze her neck.
"I-I suppose that's okay, as long as your fangs stay hidden." His eyeteeth traced her jugular, and her heart began to race. She forgot about the playful scenario going on as she thought back to musings she'd been having lately. Living with a Vampire, kissing Spike goodbye as he left to go hunting each night, she had begun to wonder what it felt like...Spike stopped his teasing as he felt her swallow.
"What's wrong, luv?"
"Nothing. Why stopping?" she asked with a grin.
"There's something on your innocent little mind. Tell me," he commanded softly, pushing himself up with his elbows, and trailing a finger along her jaw line.
"It's not important."
"If you won't tell me what, clearly it is." She bit her lip, staring into his icy blue eyes. She'd told him how beautiful they were the previous night, and had discovered something fascinating; Spike had an inferiority complex when it came to his looks. He had stuttered something between a brush-off and a thank you when she told him, and giggling, she had repeated herself over and over throughout the night. She wondered why, when he was so very...good looking. Very very good looking. Being rejected? She knew about Drusilla, was it possible that another lady had refused Spike? She didn't know much about his past at all, and was determined to find out in the upcoming months they'd spend together. She wasn't sure how long she would stay with Spike overall, especially with her human aging. Maybe he'd keep her with him until she died; maybe he would find a safe place for her within a few years. Or maybe, she thought with a shiver, which he of course noticed, he'd turn her. "Pet, what's the problem?" She did not want to be a Vampire. That she was sure about. She kept Spike in line as a human; if she was turned, she wouldn't care about him eating bad guys or not. Plus, Giles would be so upset...not that he would be thrilled with her present situation, if he knew about it. But her being a Vamp would kill him. No turning. However, turning was not always the result of...
"Spike, hypothetically, would you ever bite me?" He rolled off her so he was beside her, keeping his fingers at her face.
"Is that what you're worryin' about? Sweetheart, I would never hurt you."
"Would you if, um, if I, uh, asked you to?" He blinked. And blinked again. And a third time for good measure.
"Well...as long as it didn't hurt you, I'd do anything you asked of me. But fangs are painful things, Buffy." He blinked a few more times in thought. "How hypothetical is this?"
"I wanna know what it feels like..." she whispered. "Is it like sucking?"
"Now you're talking feeding, not just biting." He closed his eyes, trying to keep calm. Her voice was inquisitively naïve enough, but if she was asking him to taste her...he'd wanted nothing more since first meeting her, when he'd made his little bargain NOT to bite her in exchange for being brought to his lair safely. But he'd refrained, not only because of the bargain, but because she was more than food almost from the beginning.
She was looking at him with those big green eyes, and he still wasn't sure what she wanted. He felt it best not to assume anything.
"You made me promise never to bite you, if you recall. Ever. I swore I wouldn't. It'd be going against my word." He was close to shaking now. Always attuned to the coppery smell coming from her, it was now overwhelming his senses.
"I change my mind," he faintly heard. She saw him gulp. She realized she was pressing the issue, but now that she'd officially voiced her request, she didn't think she could handle taking it back. "Please, Spike. Show me?"
"Are you sure?" he asked after a beat, still sounding hesitant. "Yea, it can be pretty bloody erotic, but there's still a fair amount of pain involved."
"Erotic how?" she asked, sounding like a little girl again. Again, he started to shake. This was not something he should have gotten himself into; if she changed her mind, there would be no going back for his inner demon now that it was hungry for her. But he was furiously trying to get her to change her mind, still unable to take advantage of her in a food-like way. He couldn't do it. He kinda needed to.
"Feels pretty damn good," he muttered. "Don't ask me to hurt you, Buffy."
"Please?" His eyes were closed again, and she saw faint movement behind the lids as his face erupted in bumps and ridges. She gasped as he grabbed her before she could move away, wrenched his mouth to her neck, covered her mouth with his hand, and bit down, instinctively, terrified.
She screamed into his hand, as raw, animalistic force ripped her veins open to him. The first pull was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, but a cruel wave of flaming tears to Buffy. The second numbed her, but still stung as it left her body. The third...she began to see stars. Was it because it hurt so much? Or because she was tingling all over, completely at the mercy of her trusted monster, crying for something only another pull could satisfy. Careful not to take much, Spike only took one more mouthful, feeling her gasping into his hand.
He took his hand away, removed his bumpies, and began to lap at the marks he'd just given her. Such a shame...he'd always admired her soft, white neck. But on the other hand, the little red marks against the pale skin gave him a dominant feeling over her. Claim...no one else to touch her. His. And of course, she'd allowed him the pleasure no other Vampire would ever experience. Hers.
She looked straight at him, mouth still in an O. His mouth curved into a smile as he felt her hands pawing at him, benefiting from the sensation she'd just experience. She wasn't fully satisfied yet. He could fix that.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Not having the desire to feed on watery blood with absolutely no comparison to his Buffy's, Spike chose not to go hunting that night. He went out for about ten minutes to jack a car, and then the two were speeding off on her errand, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes every now and then to smile shyly. What they'd just done...neither knew of anything else like it. To both their knowledge, the most personal, intimate sharing of self possible of being experienced. She touched her neck, and he watched her do it with a smirk.
"Do me a favor, pet?"
"Anything," she said softly, making him grin. Grinning without malicious intent behind it was new to Spike. It felt awkward but nice on his face.
"Don't put a Band-Aid on that." She laughed lightly.
"I won't." Apart from that, they didn't speak as he drove her to a suitable phone for calling Joyce. She wrenched her hands in her lap, trying to plan her words in advance, as Spike tried to focus on the slithering city traffic. It was hard with Buffy beside him, her wounds still open enough to let the scent of blood waft from her body more than usual.
He pulled up to a gas station thirty minutes later, shutting off the engine of the stolen Volvo as she stared at the rickety phone booth.
"Go on now, if anyone comes toward the booth, I'll get out of the car and send them on their way." She gulped, but he knew that really wasn't what she worried about. He leaned over to unbuckle her, and cup her chin with his hand.
"Or we could go back?" She pursed her lips and shook her head.
"No. I need to do this." He nodded as she pulled back and got out of the car. She reached the phone booth and pulled the door closed, picked up the receiver, and deposited the coins she'd gathered from underneath the couch cushions before leaving the apartment. She dialed the familiar number, and listened to it ring.
"Buffy?" her mother's anxious voice on the other end greeted her. She gasped, wondering how her mother had known, then realized Joyce had probably been answering the phone likewise for the past four days. Her face screwed up as hot tears settled in her eyes, but she couldn't make a sound. She missed her mommy, and it broke her heart to have put her through this ordeal. "Buffy, is that you?" Joyce's voice sounded so hopeful that the greeting was torn from Buffy's throat thoughtlessly.
"Hi, Mom."
"Oh my God, Buffy!" Joyce's voice bordered on hysterical as she sank to the kitchen floor on the other end, pressing the phone painfully to her ear. "Oh, God, Buffy!"
"What's up?" she heard her daughter's small voice on the other end. Buffy was trying hard not to lose it, but in Joyce's state of mind, all she heard was a calm, happy teenage girl.
"I've been so worried...where are you?"
"Um, can't say. But I'm safe. That's mainly why I'm calling." She sniffled quietly, trying to keep up the Buffy-esque banter with the person most familiar with it.
"Please come home, sweetie. Please, please come home."
"I can't. I want to, but I can't. I'm really, really, really sorry." Joyce moaned.
"No, don't tell me you've been kidnapped again?"
"Uh..." What to tell, what to tell? She hated hearing her mother crying and moaning; it would be much better for the both of them to make Joyce angry. "I met this guy." It was true, technically. "And we ran away together." Still true. "And he's taking care of me, so I'm perfectly safe, in this location I cannot reveal to you, with my heroic boyfriend." She continued to try and stress the safety thing.
"Buffy...I have no idea what to say. You worried me SICK to run away with a guy I've never met before?" Mission accomplished; Joyce's anger was dissipating as she began to get pissed. Buffy winced automatically, but figured she had to keep going. Joyce would hate it, but she wouldn't fear for Buffy's life.
"Yea, pretty much. I'm really, really, really sorry, again."
"What-you-why-how-Buffy!"
"So anyway, now you know the truth, and you can stop worrying."
"Stop worr- Buffy Anne Summers, you get your ass back to Sunnydale NOW!"
"No can do, Mom. Wish I could, though."
"Why can't you?" The freaked-out edge came back to Joyce's voice. "He won't let you go?"
"No, no, not at all! He's not like that at all!"
"Who the hell is this boy? And why can't you come home?"
"His name is...Will. We can't come home because, uh, because he's wanted by the FBI for a crime he didn't commit, and we have to stay on the run until his name is cleared."
"BUFFY! HOME! NOW!"
"I love you Mom, but I want to stay with him until this horrible ordeal is over. Don't know when that could be, probably awhile...but I'm safe!"
"Bring him with you then," Joyce ordered.
"Mom...I can't. I have to go. Give my best to Giles, Willow, and Xander."
"All people who are worried completely SICK about you, though not as much as me! I'm going to find you, young lady, I'm going to get people on it, and they will find this criminal boyfriend of yours, and drag you home screaming, and preferably shoot him for taking you-" Buffy hung up, not wanting to listen to her mother's misguided rant. It had been hard, but she felt like she had done the right thing. She climbed back into the car, and quickly related the conversation to Spike as he drove her home. He seemed amused by her story, and as they laughed at the ludicrous parallels between the fake situation and their own, she felt a little bit better. Spike had that effect on her.
