Kindred
By Sweetprincipale
Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…
Dedicated to:KyanaM, Stuffn'Nonsense, Brokenblackrose, Pgoodrichboggs, Pentastic, SJwheelan, Teatime Turbulence, Omslagspapper, and Slayerette 16.
Part IV
She hit the door of the crypt with her usual attack-mode force, and then drew back before she made it open more than a fraction. She changed it to a knock. This is an appointment. This isn't barge in and demand. This is- so weird.
He came to the door and stuck his head through, quickly looking around. "Come in, then," he said impatiently. "Weren't followed?"
"No. No one knows about this but Giles. The story is that I'm doing a cleansing ritual. Alone."
"That might help, I s'pose."
"Well, it helps as a cover story, anyway. You were right about Riley freaking out if it was you. Only he seemed to think you wouldn't be able to perform."
He glared and walked away from her.
Be nice to him, you need his help! her inner Miss Manners shouted. "Here, from Giles." She hastily held out the box from the butchers'. "He said you ought to eat first."
"Why's it matter, since your boy thinks I can't get 'em up?" He swapped his handsome human features for the more grotesque vampiric ones.
"Spike, I'm sorry. I just meant- the chip is working in your favor, maybe? He doesn't suspect I'm asking you for help. I left it vague. He assumed Angel and I just… let him run with it."
"So Peaches will be getting a stake-o-gram from your tin soldier?" Spike but two containers in the microwave, back turned again. He felt jumpy and he wasn't used to this feeling. He couldn't remember having it since- since being in the Initiative, or in the Watcher's bathtub, all chained up. The feeling of not knowing what's about to happen, but it's probably going to go badly.
"I let him assume that's who I was asking for help. But I promised him I would try to look for another way to break Dracula's hold, and I am. Well, by I, I mean the gang is, and I'll help when I can. But we can try this first, since it's the only thing that we know will work."
"We don't know any such thing," Spike huffed. "We know it'd work if I can get to your neck without pain, and then there's the connection and the- other bits."
She blushed bright pink and swallowed. He looked at her as he waited for the timer to ring on his microwave. She waited for the crude teasing. It didn't arrive. "So. Um. Break any good gypsy voodoo spells lately?" she tried to joke.
He let out a laugh under a twisting smile. "Yeah, there was this vicious little blonde that almost took out the bastard, and I pulled her chestnuts out of the fire."
"You think I'm vicious?" Why am I blushing again? That's not a compliment.
"Completely lethal, Slayer." He felt like he wanted to move closer. His legs were leading, or rather his hips, a swagger to begin some unknown dance- and the micro beeped. "Ah. I've got - uh- sod all for you. Sorry. No, I do have a beer left?"
"I don't think I can drink right now. I don't drink normally and I don't think I want my perception messed with. Had a lot of that last week."
"Might get you a little tipsy, wouldn't be so tense."
"I'm not tense!" Buffy retorted, voice sounding completely tense and edgy.
"Well, I bloody am! If you don't want it, I'll have it."
"Oh, no, no beer breath and blood breath, no."
"Oh, come on, when we were stuck in that spell, you fed me while sittin' in my lap, kissin' me every other sip! With tongue!"
"Do not bring that up!" Buffy hissed vehemently.
"Sorry!" Spike winced. And winced again for the meekness of granting an apology. "I mean. No. I'm not sorry. Just- fuck, Slayer, this is a disaster waiting to happen, you do see that, don't you?"
"I expected a lot more braggy, bite-y confidence," Buffy confessed- knowing she was only telling a half-truth. It was clear that mistakes would cause both of them pain and he had legitimate fear for his life, fear that she no longer had to endure around him, hadn't had much to begin with.
"Sorry 'bout that, it's the whole hand grenade in my head sensation that's a bit off-puttin'. Plus… you don't wanna be near me, not at all. Why are we foolin' ourselves thinking we can-"
"I don't mind being near you sometimes. Like now," Buffy interrupted. "I really do appreciate the help. A lot. I'm actually - really sorry that you could get hurt trying to help me," she sighed and tried to sound matter of fact, losing it halfway through the apology. "Anything I could do? Within reason?"
"Don't nag about me eatin' first. Your Watcher was right. If I do manage to get a little nip in, I don't want the demon forgettin' its manners and thinkin' we're invited to dinner."
"You're right. See? Look. Non-naggy Buffy. Anything else?"
"How many stakes are you wearin'?"
"Huh? Oh, I always have a couple on me." Five. I'll admit to two.
"Could you put 'em in your bag and put the bag on the - where are we gonna do this?"
"I don't know! This is your place, you tell me which place has biting ambience. And no, I'm not going to put down my stakes."
"You flinch and I get knocked to kingdom come, isn't that enough firepower, girl?" He glared at her. "I can't hurt you without hurtin' myself. I don't need bein' threatened on top of it."
"Fine. Stakes in bag, bag on this charming coffin." Buffy dropped two stakes from her pockets into the bag and set it down.
Spike drained each quart container rapidly. It had the instant effect that put the warmth in his veins, the color- pale though it was- in his cheeks. He relaxed a little bit. "All right. Try me."
"What?"
"You've gotta lead the bloody thing! Like we did with our hands!" Spike reminded her sharply.
"Oh. Right. Um. Can you-" I can't say it. "Can you please-" Nope. I cannot ask to be bitten. "I can't."
"Right, then. Toodle-oo, have a nice night. I hope you like sleepin' four in a bed. He never has less than three wives."
"Bite me. Now."
"Oh, there you go. You can do it as long as you're not nice about it." Spike came close to her and tried to move behind her.
"What are you doing?" Buffy demanded, turning with him.
"I'm trying to-" He moved, she circled with him. "I'm trying to get- Slayer, stop!" He finally halted. "I'm trying to get behind you. Bite you, remember?"
"What, from behind? No!"
He chuckled, dark and dirty, "Whatsa matter, Slayer? Boy only knows one position?"
His face stung briefly from her palm across it. "This. Isn't. About that," she ground out the words.
"I always bite from the side or the back. I'm sorry about the comment, I was- tryin' to lighten the mood. You kept circlin' with me like we were squarin' off for a fight."
"Dracula bit me face to face. Angel, too. The Master didn't, and um- I think I think of attacks as coming from behind."
"Right." He nodded with genuine understanding. "That's right, makes sense. Got it, gotta keep the enemy in sight. Only, if you let me bite you an' you still think I'm just an enemy, nothin' I say or do is gonna make a difference."
"Okay, fine. But you don't have to bite from behind, right? You can bite face to face?"
"I can- I- don't. Only ever with Dru. It was love. It was affection, Slayer. Intimate."
"Oh." Her voice was small. That's right. Face to face. Into each other's eyes. Like we are now. Like we were earlier. Harder. Harder. Harder… "Intimate is supposed to be an ingredient here." Her voice was a small rustle in the suddenly too quiet crypt.
He nodded, wetting his lips. He put his hand slowly, slow up on her shoulder. Then let his hand touch her hair briefly. She was holding her breath. Her eyes watched him and her shoulders tensed. The machine gun heartbeat tripled. He stepped back. "You look like you're trying not to scream."
"Why are you touching my hair?"
"I thought you said intimate was good!"
"Oh, God! Seriously, let's just try this. Bite, right here, now." Buffy yanked her hair back and tilted her head over, eyes squinched tight.
"No! Everything about you screams 'This is gonna hurt!' I can't get any closer without someone shovin' a cattle prod into my frontal lobes."
"You're being a wuss."
"I'm being realistic. Watch. Tell me again."
"Bite. Now," she demanded, and he moved quickly. She jerked her head and let out a gasp, hand coming up between them- and without touching him found him cringing and rubbing his temples while cursing. "Sorry!"
"Okay. Don't move. Not gonna bite. Showin' you something." Spike held up his hands, panting raggedly and looking pained. "Watch."
Buffy stood still. He attacked, a hard punch to the left, to the right, center, uppercut, left, right. She dodged everything without doing more than a twist and bend. "Hey. You didn't-"
"I wasn't gonna touch you. See? I knew it. I knew my actions had no harm in 'em. Chip doesn't fire. But a hard, quick bite's gonna hurt unless you know somethin' I don't. An' you lookin' like you're braced for pain makes me think it's gonna hurt you and then- wham." He sat heavily in the chair.
"Well, I'm not quitting. You're right. I'll just- hold still. It won't take long."
Another ill-chosen thought attempted to slip past his lips, but he decided he didn't want another slap on top of the head trauma. Hope she doesn't say that in bed. No. No, but Cardboard might.
Buffy could read the sudden shifting smirk that he quickly tried to hide. She knew what he was thinking. But since he didn't mention it, she tried to be mature and ignore it. "Does aspirin help? I think I have some in my bag."
"I wish, but no. Time and vampire healin', that's all that sorts it. Gimme a minute an' I'll go again."
It was her turn to smirk, and he saw it. "Just a minute?" she asked dubiously.
"Sometimes not even," he raised his eyebrows, which only served to make his face look somehow more- human. He watched her fuss with her hair and try to hide the startled look. "All right. Got the rep to live up to, now. Let's try this the Watcher's way." He flung his legs forward and dragged himself upright.
"Oh, the 'jaws are just body parts' method?" Ew. Spike would have to just sit with my neck in his mouth like a dog with a tennis ball.
"Yeah, harder, harder, harder, contact." Spike went to circle around behind her again, finding her tailing him once more. "Oh, no for God's sake, Slayer! I can't do this with you looking at me. Can't you feel me behind you and know you're not in any danger? An' don't tell anyone I said that!"
"I'll try, okay? I'll try!" She flung her hair back, hitting him squarely in the nose, making him splutter. This is very unsexy. I guess it isn't supposed to be anything else. Dracula was sexy- but not really. The knowledge was the tantalizing part. Everything else was just smoke and mirrors. She felt him slip behind her more closely, one hand on her back, one hand smoothing her hair out of the way. Spike is real. Very obviously real. She let out a shuddering breath as his lips pressed above her pulse point, mouth closed.
"About here?" he asked, too loud for the closeness, and she jumped as his lips moved on her skin.
"Fine."
He remained there, lips slightly open. Oh, sweet little traces of salt and hormones, sweat and blood, all in the pores of her skin. Pores that blended together, giving her the texture of silk, but there was so much bloody power in her. How could you not just want to- his fangs shifted out with a low rumble and she gasped as if in pain.
And as soon as the thought "pain" registered in his mind, even fleetingly, the hammer dropped in his head. "Ow! Fuck it!"
"Spike! Sorry, I was still!"
"Why'd you gasp, you bint? Are you gettin' a laugh out of this?" He clutched his head and straightened up.
"No! No, I swear I'm not!" She found herself bending with him, supporting him, hoping that her face conveyed the genuine sorrow she felt. "Oh. Hey, is it just the blood exchange thing? What if I just cut my fingertip and-"
"If a vamp wants to 'mark' someone as his, he's gotta do a better job than that. Fangs required. I'll try it with you, face on. No gasping. You know it's going to pinch just a bit, but it'll be gradual, like the hand holdin'." At her reticent look, he pulled out the big guns. "You wanna be Mrs. Dracula? Didn't think so. No sudden moves."
Again, like a farce, two actors who couldn't find their marks on the stage, him in front, trying to line up, trying not to meet her eyes, get his mouth down, not feel her hands at her sides, stiff like a petrified victim. But at least this time she relaxed marginally against the press of his lips and she whispered, "Harder. Harder. More… Keep going… More."
Fangs descended and replaced teeth, and just as they broke skin she flinched and pulled away. He didn't get the headache, more like a warning zap. "What went wrong now?"
"I could feel it happening!"
"Where the hell is that spell?"
"No, no, I got it. Sorry. But - hey, you're upright and not hurting. That's progress."
"Yeah! It is. Not so much on the connection front, Luv. Gotta say, he must have put one hell of whammy on you…"
Buffy hesitated. "He could see the hunger in me. He called me a killer. I told him I liked slayer better and he said killer was the right word, just naked."
Slaying naked. Slayer naked. No, no, no, NO. "I suppose to our kind, you're a killer. But we don't call you that. Slayer is what you are. It's your title. An' you wanted to know what?"
"Where does it come from? Why is it hurting me, if it's supposed to be something so good?" Buffy whispered.
"It's hurting you?" Spike tilted his head. "Yeah. It does. Wears you down. You kill all night, night after night. You lose the sun. You lose the sun in your smile. The world gets hard, down to survival. Why shouldn't it hurt? Why shouldn't it be hard?" She opened her mouth, but he continued, "What you wanted to know was if you could make the pain better, maybe make it stop."
"Yes!" Buffy realized that was part of it as he spoke the words. I want my power. I want to use it. I am stronger and faster and better … and I love the power. But I hate what it's going to do to me. Make me empty inside except for pain…
He knew the answer. What makes it stop? Death. That look of peace. But she's not ready for that answer. And it might not be the only one to a girl like her. "You've been running this gig for longer than any other. Or at least, near about. You know why?"
"I'm hard to kill?"
"That, too. You're resourceful. You're talented. All that's great, but you an' me stay alive for the same reason. Love."
"Huh?" She had been falling forward as they talked, falling into his eyes and maybe into his arms, and now she recoiled.
"You got people to love. So did I. Any old vampire you meet, one who's passed a hundred, Slayer, look for what it loves. Maybe not a person, maybe a thing. Angelus- pain. The Master- his family, the worship of the whole bally line he made and how powerful they were. Drac- his power, what he can do with it."
"And you?"
"Drusilla. Slayers. Only I've lost all that now. But I remember enough, an' I'm not beat yet."
The words in her mouth bypassed her brain, that was the only excuse she could make. "You've still got one slayer here. And she- we- we're trying to find our powers together, so we can stay alive."
He visibly started. Powers together?
She swatted away the memory of the dream. Staying alive. Drowning. As long as he doesn't say-
"Sometimes it feels like you're sinkin', like you're drownin' in the pain, but you are a fighter, Luv. Me, too. So yeah, we'll- What? What'd I say now?" He stopped when she made a choking sound.
"Not a thing. I mean, nothing wrong," Buffy stammered. "Look at us. Talking. One could say connecting."
"Yeah, that's right. This is good. What'd you mean, when you said I still had a slayer?"
She trod carefully around the landmine of his question. "You and I are going to be even after this. I said so. Fresh start. If you help me with your power, I could help you with yours. Maybe we stay alive. We keep fighting. You can only fight what's evil, so by default, you're playing on my team."
He tried something, something that tugged at him, but didn't feel quite right, like cramming yourself into a tiny space. "My slayer."
She shivered, something twinged in her spine. "N-"
"I gotta. I gotta… make you something that's mine." His hand wrapped around hers, wrapped around her hair with the other, tilting her head back. "Let me kiss you."
"What?" She sounded utterly freaked, killing all of the mood.
But he was a fighter, hadn't they just established that? Had to keep going. "You made out with those boys in cars, Luv? Leavin' a little love bite for you to remember them by?"
"Not really," she gasped out as her own hands went across his back. That is a nice back. Without the bulky coat in the way- uber nice back. And the chest. It is wrong that something evil has that kind of chest. Not fair.
"Then I'll be the first. Love bite that lasts a little longer. My Slayer."
"Nnnn-" The protest died, but the sharp piercing sensation between her shoulder blades tingled again. She wanted to reject this closeness. But she needed it. And she was starting to want it.
"Spike, I-" Her hand tentatively sought out the stiff gelled hair, and he turned to look at her, predatory gleam in dark yellow eyes, fangs appearing under drawn lips.
She reacted- a quick jab to the nose, followed by his howl and her apology. "I'm sorry! Oh, oh, you looked all vampy and I-"
"Looked vampy, did I? Think it's cause I'm a vampire, maybe? Think it might be because you need a vampire to break the soddin' hold of another vampire!?"
"Is it broken?" She had the grace to look abashed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"No! But what the hell do I gotta do to you? If it's not the chip beatin' me about the head, it's you! Do I gotta tie your hands behind your back or chain you to the headboard?" he cried in exasperation.
She stared, wide eyed.
That probably wasn't wise. And in no way should that sound like a good time. Not even the properly evil good time, like torture and imminent death. The- wet, writhing, breathy moans kind of way. "I-"
"I-"
"You can't hit me for doin' this," he said as she blurted-
"I'm not bondage gal."
"Oh. Oh, no, so much no," Buffy took a turn collapsing into the chair, mortified beyond reason, head in hands.
"I know! I know, I wasn't- we wouldn't. Well- we- Should we try this tomorrow?"
"Maybe," Buffy whimpered to her knees. "I can't even look at you."
"Oh, come on now, I've said far worse to you."
"No! I can't believe I said what I said. I'm dying of shame. You can have the credit for killing me if you want. I know that's a big life goal of yours."
He had to chuckle as he sank to his knees in front of her. "That's awfully sweet an' thoughtful of you, Buffy. Come on."
"Just let me die in peace."
"Not gonna happen."
She groaned and peeked at him with one eye. "I should have guessed that, huh? No way you're giving me an easy out?"
"About your death? No! About a tiny slip of the tongue- sure I will. I thought it was funny."
"You did? Oh, because I'm so pure and good, huh? And saying that was like the-"
"Sweetheart, I know you could do unspeakably deviant things if you want and still fight for innocents in between shagging someone into an alternate dimension. It was funny because we both went to the wrong places in our heads. I'm also laughin' in relief. You coulda slugged me instead of explainin' politely that it wasn't your bag."
Under some part of that speech that should make me yell about his disgusting, perverted mind- I like what he said. He doesn't underestimate me. "Is it yours?"
"Ooh, someone's getting brave."
"Well… connection."
Wonder what else comes under the heading of connection? Spike wondered briefly as he let his hand go to the armrest, fingers just brushing her elbow. "I could do a bit of it. I like it better when everyone's free to move about. Hands have so many muscles for a reason. Just think what they can do. Hundreds of things."
Hands around her neck, pulling her hair back, and hurting her. And hands that were soft, and gentle, exploring, touching her, stroking her hair away. Her own hands, caressing a handsome face, punching a vicious one…
He looked at hers. Tiny. But not weak. Gripping, digging in, twisting a neck like a jar with a stubborn lid. Hands that had chained him, fed him, touched his cheek as they planned a wedding.
"Got talents, you do…" he tried something. Picked up one hand.
"Harder?" she offered.
"Different game. Softer."
"Softer? Okay. Softer."
Wait. I have a boyfriend. Riley.
It's okay. It's just hands.
His hand and my hand, linking up, and his hand hand starting to wonderingly trace over my arms and my neck, my face, like he's never met me before. Like he's blind and he's feeling his way, seeing by touch.
His finger passed over her lip, and she let out a puff of air, before her hands mirrored his.
Into his hair, into his scalp, soothing, down the back of his neck, over his shoulders as she leaned forward, and he pulled her. Into his lap on the floor.
"Dracula was quicker."
"That's not a compliment."
"So fast- I didn't know what was happening," she confessed. "Missed all the clues, stupid…"
"Tricky bloke. Trusting heart. Made to break. Needs a someone…" his hands pressed to either side of her face, steadying her, holding their gazes, " Needs someone who respects her. Won't break her, ever again. 'Cause she's his. 'Cause she's mine."
"His." Wow. One word should not do that to her body or her brain.
Kissed her on the mouth. Kissed her again and she kissed him back, and backwards, flattening him to the gritty stone floor.
Heads and hands, tangling and biting. He remembered this. This was how it happened. As long as she didn't overthink it, as long as he didn't ruin it.
"One kiss. Giles said- we only needed- one kiss," she spoke in fragments, broken by those needless kisses. But so hungry. And this- was filling.
"You only need to breathe to be alive, but it's the other stuff that makes the breathin' worthwhile."
His kisses changed intensity and trajectory. But so did hers. "Ohhhh, Slayer, you're good, you know that?"
"Tell me some more." No. She guessed. She guessed she was good. She hadn't been told. Angelus mocked it, then never spoke of it once he returned to his souled self. Riley told her she was beautiful and wonderful and he loved her. He didn't talk about their bedroom escapades in anything but pure sweetness. And she liked that. She liked him.
I think I like Spike right now, too. Completely different way. And this has to happen. More intimacy than the other vampire, or it won't work. And this is sure working for me! "But- we're not going to -"
"I'm gonna kiss you. Because you like it. And you're going to kiss me, because I like it. An' you're gonna do it 'cause your mine," he threw the word out with more authority.
"And you're going to do it because you're mine." She used the same phrase.
Oh no. His hand slammed into the ground beside her head and he let out a possessive snarl, a passionate one. "You're a bloody vixen. You know all the right moves an' you don't even try. When you make mistakes, you learn fast and you come back stronger. What you could do…" Doesn't bear thinking about, because you're not going to get more than those sweet rosebud lips and this satiny skin, topped off with rubies, delicious little crimson gems that she's going to open up and let you swallow.
Sexual imagery was running rampant through both minds. She tried to ignore it the lustful feeling in her hips and tried to focus on things she hated about the man over her. He's rude. He's arrogant. A cold hearted murdering- everything Dracula is, only Dracula's rudeness and arrogance come under the guise of being more polished than everyone else, and his murder comes with a side of sexual slavery. I think- if I had two choices- I'd pick the guy who wants to help me for real. Not tell me he has the answers but really just wants to add me to the collection.
"You collect slayers?" she asked in a drifty voice.
"Not like you. There's no one like you. I'll never want another one now, that's the truth." He mauled her neck with his blunt teeth until he heard her keen in pleasure. Her knees split and he fell between them, more on top and middle, no more side and half over. "Knows how to snare him and keep what's hers, pretty cat with her claws," he purred against her neck and bit again, harder, still in human form.
She moaned, head lolling back. Can't keep them. Not all of them. Lost Angel. Lost Parker. Keep Riley. Yes. And Spike. My vampire. I can have a vampire, too. Don't I have a vampire, too? She was hazy from blood pounding and rushing, and the feeling of his hands, moving all over her as desperately as she moved across him, digging herself into him. This is my vampire. He's drowning in me. I'm drowning in him. "Want you to…" Want him to what?
"Want you, too."
The bite wasn't painful, it was full of pressure, breaking skin with bruising love bites that would require turtlenecks and scarves, a champion of a hickey. A hickey that narrowed down to two tiny little holes, skin giving just as his knee slid up and hit her hard where she was softest, not pinning her, helping her. He bucked down into the bite, moaning as the blood flooded him, spurted in and overflowed, couldn't help gasping at how she tasted. Didn't want to waste a drop, and it was trickling down, moans needing to come out more than blood had to stay in. She arched up, eyes rolling back, holding herself to his black denim, slight undulations working with her short, sharp cry of pleasure. She gripped him hard as he lifted off, slamming her wet center to him one more time, before both would pretend that such a thing hadn't happened. That the sensation was more than connection- it was carnal.
He dragged his tongue over her wound slowly, taking some perverse pleasure that something hard of his had shuddered into a soft little place of hers, made her sob out his name in a good way. "How's my Slayer?"
She was quiet, nodding and pressing her hand to the bite. "You did it. No pain."
"All gain," he watched her struggle to rise and motioned her to wait. "You're heartbeat is still racin'. You lost a bit of blood, nowhere near enough to hurt, but don't want you faint from this. You faint from what I did, I'll get the world's first retroactive headache."
"Not good." She let herself recline, now sprawled beside him. The post-sex position. Sprawled, hot, sweaty, side by side, limbs sort of overlapping. Only no, there must be no overlapping. "How many bites was that?"
"One."
"Felt like- felt like it was a long bite."
"I got stamina. But, no, it was all the teasin' leading up to it. Didn't hurt, did it?"
"Not at all," she admitted easily.
"Never hurt my Slayer," he felt his eyes closing, head lazily rocking side to side. Felt it bump into hers and he slid his eyes sideways, until blue met green. He offered a smile and she met it with one of her own. "How do you feel?"
Buffy took stock of herself. "Not in pain, that's for sure. Not like I'm fighting something that doesn't feel right. When Dracula was around, he would say things and I'd do them, but I knew I shouldn't. I felt like I was moving through water. Drowning…"
"Well, I'm glad you're back on dry ground."
"I don't think the hold is broken, though. It feels…" Buffy rubbed her chest, hand nervously drifting to her stomach. Never mind that it felt tight and tense from the fear of this evening's activities. Never mind she added some odd, totally wrong lusty feelings that so should not happen and that Riley could never, ever, ever find out about. Now it felt like- being seasick. "I feel like something is pulling me in two directions."
"Hm. I guess it could be Drac's hold on you tryin' to pull you back to him. Or it could be fighting- my uh- my bid for you."
She sent him a scathing glare. "Bid? Like you got me at the victim auction?"
"No… like I helped you by trying to fight for you, anyway I could." He shut his mouth with a snap. Shouldn't sound like that. She's not who I fight for, never was. Against, sure. Side-by-side with sometimes. What an effed up mess. Never should have done this. Why did I agree to this?
Fights for me anyway he can. Not like I need someone to fight my battles- only sometimes you do. I fight for everyone else, don't I? I loved when Angel made me feel like he was going to ride in and rescue me. Right until I didn't. And now I hate it. Because he was the kind of guy you thought was going to be the knight in shining armor, and you could be the knight in a pretty pink prom dress. You could slay the dragon together- and he climbed on his horse and rode out of town. Left because he couldn't fight beside me anymore.
"I fight all my own battles."
"Yeah… all right. Sometimes you need a specialist, don't you? You consult your wicca for spells and computer help. You ask your Watcher for ancient gobbledygook and sacred trinkets and whatnot. You ask the boy when you- what the hell does the boy do for you again?"
"He doesn't have any powers, Spike, and that doesn't mean he stops trying. Also, surprisingly good with military and tactical planning. Also, construction. You'd be amazed how helpful that is."
"Fair enough. You needed a set of fangs." He flashed in and out of game face. "I got 'em."
Reducing him to a body part. Ick. No. Not okay. Wait- don't I do that anyway? I see fangs and go "vampire" evil?
Maybe if you're going to get better at this, you have to retrain your brain. At least in some cases. "It's not the fangs. If it was fangs, I could have asked any vampire to do this. No. It had to be you. I'm… oddly glad it's you." Her arm moved off her stomach and fell to her side- and onto his. They both jumped at the contact. Somehow out of context, it was unsettling.
And tempting. He didn't move away. Let her move this time. I already spent the night makin' moves and getting smacked for them, either by her hands or my electronics.
When he touched her- skin to skin- the queasiness was there. But it lessened. "If I'm calmer around you, does that mean the hold is breaking? Or- or like the polls are in your favor?"
"I'd go with the second one. If anything, it's probably a slim tie, and my proximity helps tip the scales just a bit." Still not moving away. Hard to think. Hard to think about anything but her. Why'd she kiss me like that? I'm glad she did. Shit, why'd I kiss her like that? And the blood. That blood is every upper and aphrodisiac known to a vamp, an' what use am I going to put it to? He shifted his hips, uncomfortable, suddenly aware that beside him she was doing the same. Moving her legs restlessly. She got off on that bite.
You don't know what happened. It could be- could be like adrenaline overload, she wanted to fight being bitten, all hot and bothered, churned up inside- lashing out and keeping it in, all at once. "All that control," he breathed.
"Yeah, he has it long-distance, too. If he were still in town- I'd probably be going completely insane, huh?" Buffy didn't want him to move. Maybe if we do the second bite now, this will all be over, the weird dream, the kissing and confusion. The constant fear that I might inadvertently get arrested for speeding while walking, thanks to our friendly vampire exchange student and his astrophysical version of speed.
"Not his control. Yours. Any other girl would have begged him to turn her, just to be near Ol' Spooky and his pretty blue eyes and his talcum powder face."
"So… I want to be near them? To feel better?"
"Them?"
"The ones with the bond. Dracula and you." Her voice was tiny on the last word. I do feel better touching him. I don't like that. I don't want him to have the bond, I don't want anyone to have it! "This is frustrating."
"All kinds of frustrating," he agreed. What now? "Come again?"
"No- I - I just was squirmy," Buffy blurted.
"I meant elaborate," he said slowly, deliberately, looking at her panicked face from the corner of his eye.
"I don't like feeling like I have to depend on someone."
"No one likes having to, but wanting to isn't so bad," he said easily. "Knowing someone's got your back. That's nice."
"Until they leave. Or switch sides."
"I did that for her own good! She woulda died! You think I could watch that bastard put my girl in hell?"
"Not you. My hang ups. Not yours."
"Maybe we have some of the same. Don't worry. I'll get you outta this. That you can depend on. See what I did?"
"Yeah. Hey- can you do it again? Another bite and get this over with?"
Her bedroom manners need work. No, no, wait. Not bedroom. "Sure. Come here," he motioned lazily. "Go a heck of a lot easier this time, right?"
"Right. No, stop!" Buffy suddenly struggled upright. "What if it doesn't count?"
"I'm lost. You drive." Spike didn't bother rising, and reclined, arms now crossed and pillowing under his head.
Buffy paused. He looks good stretched out. Did he grow extra muscles or something? Was his chest always that long? And tight? Argh! No, no ogling the helpful vampire.
Hey. Weird new thought. I like it better than evil, snarky vampire.
"I'm not gettin' any deader here, Luv," he prodded her leg with his booted toes.
"Helpful but snarky," she muttered under her breath.
"Fits me, don't it?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
"What if you have to bite me on two separate days? Like, because- well, I couldn't even tell how long it was."
"My ego, precious," he winced.
"No double entendres right now, I can't handle it," she cried, exasperated. "The bite didn't hurt. It was- the whole thing- was good. Oddly, sickeningly good. And I'm sorry if that's insulting. I just mean- I wasn't aware of a painful biting sensation like I could keep count. With all the kissing and -"
"Necking?"
"Yes! That! So, what if it has to be separate incidents? Or even on separate days?"
"That's a Watcher question. I never studied the preise requirements. Although," Spike finally joined her, sitting upright, "he is a ruddy powerful one. He's the only one I know that won't come along quietly after two good stakes to the heart. Overkill might be better. Break it good and proper."
"You think that's necessary?"
"I think it's your life, Buffy. You like livin' set to high speed, we gamble. Anyway, you'll know if it worked after another bite. We could do it now."
"No," Buffy felt herself wanting to say yes. But she said no because it felt far too comfortable. She was having trouble remembering why she ever wanted to stop touching him. And when she pulled away, she had funhouse stomach, full of sudden dips and spins. "I feel out of it."
He rose to his feet, concern on his face. "You gonna be okay to get home?"
"Sure."
"I'd offer to walk you, but if Finn catches me within a mile of you-"
"He doesn't know a thing. I promise." She grabbed for her bag unsteadily and gasped when he took her wrist.
"You can't leave like that."
"I- I- Look, it's not like I want to get what I need and then go- at least, not entirely. But I feel strange and I want to talk to Giles about some stuff before we- do anything else."
Spike let go of her arm. "I meant you have an obvious bite. You can't go home to Joyce like that. She'll kill me. I won't have that."
Buffy blinked. "You're afraid of my mom hurting you?"
"Hello, yes! Besides, she'll think it's not proper."
"Not proper?" Buffy slowly shook her head, trying to clear it.
"The bitin' and snogging! She'll have a new piece in the gallery 'Study in Ashes' and I'll be the bleedin' central figure. Didn't you bring a scarf or one of those frilly shirts that covers up your neck?" he demanded.
"I- didn't. Actually. Which was dumb, and I won't do that tomorrow night. No rubbing it in. I'll just turn the collar of my- where are you going?"
"Stay!" he ordered and suddenly shifted something large and grating, then dropped. Buffy gasped. "Don't you tell anyone about this!" his muffled voice shouted up.
"You have a basement?" She came closer to the edge of the squarish hole in the floor .
"Yeah, you could call it that! Hang on." Downstairs, he rootled through some of Harm's leftover paraphernalia and bypassed it all. Nothing elegant. The Slayer wasn't elegant. But… she was in a league above Harmony, by far. Astronomically far. He groaned disgusted with himself and went over to a scarred foot locker and reached down to the very bottom. Sketches and poetry, nubs of candles, and - there. Long, wrinkled black silk. It had matched her shining ebony hair, caught the blue-black of her eyes in the moonlight.
"And she doesn't need it anymore. An' Slayer'll take care of it and give it back," he whispered, running it through his hands, pressing it to his mouth and nose and inhaling. Faint, faint traces of that long-loved, oft missed scent.
He made his voice strident, "Got somethin' you can borrow to stop anyone askin' nosy questions."
Buffy backed away from the opening in the floor as he rose through it, took the dark object he held out.
"Not your style, but it-"
"It's pretty. Wow, the embroidery on it… Wow. Thanks for the loan." She looked at him, not looking at her. She knew who it belonged to. Her hands felt clumsy and talentless, touching something that she shouldn't have, that he was sharing. Like this whole thing. This whole thing was about sharing stuff we shouldn't have.
"Here." He wrapped it over once and across, pausing before covering up his handiwork. Those little marks in her skin. Me inside of her. I did that. I held her while she moaned and bled for me, pressed her hot little opening into me. I know what she needs to know. I don't like it. I don't know whether or not I should tell her. Or when.
When I can admit she held me, moanin' just as loud, wanting her just as bad.
"What is it?"
"I look good on you," he whispered and ran a finger over the bite before he could stop himself.
She backed up, fear in her eyes. Not of him. Something else.
Because you liked it. Not the control. Not the bite. The feeling. Touching the dark… and the dark is comfy with you. Rolls on top of you and purrs, moans in your ear and licks your blood like one very large, very dangerous panther.
"Good night," she backed away as he dropped the last fold of silk against her skin, concealing what they had shared.
"I'm s- good night." I'm not apologizin'. It does. I do.
Oh hell.
What's that supposed to mean?
To be continued...
Author End Note: Thank you again for those of you who are reading the "Spuffy" novel CrossRealms:Shattered by S.C. Principale. Definitely a closed bedroom door sort of book- just fair warning.
