Kindred
By Sweetprincipale
Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, and the kind guest reviewers (particularly the one who had a birthday today). Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon (S.C. Principale. The New and Improved CrossRealms:Shattered just came out in Kindle and paperback). All the wordy hugs ;)
Author's Note: There is awkward, smutty, loving, mushy stuff. You have been warned. Also, if you are going to get impatient about when our duo finally "go all the way" you will need to wait, because there is something significant involved that I will not spoiler. Just saying, patience is a virtue (that I barely have), but please try to give our guys some slack. Remember, to Buffy, it's been days. To us, it's been months of chapters.
Part XIII
"Wanna go out?" Spike whispered in a little bit. "Dust a few?"
"Yes. Oooh, but I just feel like regular anxious for a patrol, not like I will die if I stop moving. This is definitely good. Oh, and I promised I'd call Giles! I should call my mom! Wait, it's earlier there, she's probably still at the showing."
He smiled, watching her move easily next to him, reach for the phone, lay back beside him, tucking the sheet around her as she dialed. Then he looked startled. Wait, she's calling the Watcher while I'm here? Naked in her bed beside her? Where she is also completely, gloriously naked… His hands ached to go wandering. He felt like that might be a bit of a risk to his self-preservation.
Buffy seemed to have second thoughts as well, as if Giles and his innate Watcherly abilities would somehow know her phone call was being completed in the nude with a sex-god beside her, though they hadn't quite had "sex" as far as the practical definition would go. But they had certainly made love. Some couples didn't have the standard "equipment" or had lost ability due to injury, but when they bonded and pleasured and loved- she presumed they called it sex. Hm. Maybe that was sex, but I'd still call it making love. Because I love him.
And I want him. "Cover up, I can't think if you're all huge and pointy at me," Buffy hissed.
He smirked and rocked his hips pointedly in her direction, stiffness obvious. Even though he complied and tugged the sheet up- it did absolutely nothing to hide the "huge and pointy" object.
"Buffy?" Giles sounded puzzled.
"Oh! Hi! I think it's working! Spike and I- it was good. Like, better. I think we're getting better."
"Better at creating this connection that will break Dracula's hold, or the hold itself is lessening?"
"Both!" Buffy sounded gleeful as she realized it was true. "I don't feel 100%. But I don't feel… like I'm drugged. When Dracula had me under a thrall, I felt like I was moving through quicksand, going in slow motion, struggling. When he left, I felt like I was on speed, hyper, twitchy and itchy."
"Perhaps the hold has to work harder the farther it is?" Giles hazarded. "It can't influence you directly, but can irritate your physical self, make your body work harder to rid itself of foreign influences."
"Either way, right now, I still feel better. Clear headed and only a little bit restless."
"Wonderful! Well, I urge you not to do anything rash. I know you can't wait for Spike to release you- what was that?"
She whimpered, he snarled.
Giles cocked his head. "Is Spike at your house?"
"Yeah, Mom's out of town, we thought it'd be nice to have some privacy. Locked doors."
"Oh, Buffy, is that really…" Giles hesitated.
"Riley could burst into Spike's crypt at any time. Not comfortable. Can you de-invite a human?"
Spike's eyes went wide and he dropped the framed picture of Buffy, Willow, and Joyce that he'd idly picked up off the little table by his side of the bed. The good girl asking to de-invite the Soldier Boy from the demon's lair? World's on its head.
"Spike! Be careful with that, that's from last Christmas!" Buffy chided in a tone of voice that Giles found familiar.
Affectionately scolding. The engagement spell. Willow!
No. Wait. She was adamant about that. It hadn't been a spell of betrothal anyway, but a spell that had gone wrong, and Willow's magic is improving constantly, especially with a partner like Tara to assist her and anchor her. "No, I- uh, don't believe we can do that. I'm not sure. Although, Willow and Tara had the ingredients for the protective charm they're making him. Not that they know it's him."
"Making me what?" Spike overheard bits of the conversation. Rather, he could hear the conversation with his advanced senses, but he was only focusing on bits of it.
"Willow and Tara are making a protective charm for the vampire helping me. They don't know it's you. Actually, they probably do think it's you, but they won't tell."
"Like hell! Red's too sweet, you can smell sincerity in her- and power. Oh, I don't know," he sounded suddenly frustrated. He'd love to show the world the woman who loved him, he'd always shown off his lady. But the previous owner of his heart hadn't come with an insecure, vamp-hating git looking for one good excuse to stake him. He raked a hand through his hair and settled deeper into the bed with a moody frown. "If anyone ever tried to hurt her bird, you'd get somethin' that'd make me look like a choirboy. But lyin' for my sake to Finn? Might as well clear some space on the mantle for my remains, Luv. Think Watcher'd spread my ashes back in Blighty next time he's home for a visit?"
"You are not going to die, I need you, and you are too stubborn, anyway. Willow can totally lie if it's for a good cause, and believe or not, this is good." Momentarily lost in the conflicting emotions of fear and love, she forgot her Watcher was still listening, she snuggled closer to him and murmured in a playfully seductive voice, "Very, very good."
Giles cleared his throat forcefully, hoping his voice didn't belay any panic. "Stop! Stop, it seems things are in order. You're well. Riley's out of town and therefore I'm sure Spike is able to safely return to his crypt. No one say any words of release until-"
"About that." Spike took the phone from Buffy, ignoring the alarm in her eyes. He rolled his. He was no fool. Except in love. So he supposed she had the right to worry. He winked and shook his head, easing her fear. "Slayer has to kill the bastard."
"Riley?"
"No! Although, I wouldn't mind…"
"Spike!" Buffy elbowed him.
"Drac. Look, I can break the hold, but he might be put out, don't you think? He's weakened now, but won't always be. Slayer raised a good point tonight. She asked how long before he'd move onto another target. If she were my girl- I'd never let her go. But he doesn't love her. Just wants her, probably wants her badly. She is the best and she's the slayer. She'd be his bloody crowning glory." He stopped speaking. Stared at her. The way she looked at him... Found out stilled hearts can still leap. "I know she's mine," he breathed so softly only she could hear, making her flush and look away, slow smile spreading over her face.
"So what do you suggest?"
"Get the hold broken, and he'll get shirty about it. Want his pride to be assuaged and all that ruffled shirt garbage. Probably come back to take another stab at getting her to be his, or turn her out of spite, kill her, even." He forced himself to sound cold, clinical. Inside, the words were lashes across his heart.
"Riley said we had to kill him," Buffy whispered.
"Riley's looking at this from one viewpoint, and that particular view is only useful with militaries observing the rules of war. This is anything but. We don't even know how to kill him in the permanent sense of the word! Some say it's three times, some say one of the ways must not be staking, some say a spell must be used, some say it can only be successful if he's in his own homeland…" Giles raked his hands through his hair, tossing his glasses aside angrily.
"It's not impossible. Spike's going to help us. We're going to find a way. But first, the hold has to break. That was Riley's big oops. He thought I could kill him while under his spell. I did a pretty good job, made a good start, but it was hard, Giles. I don't think I can do this when I'm weakened by him. First, break the hold, then make sure he's dusty so it never gets put back in place."
"This is insurmountable, it's- it's been over 500 years since he was-"
"Then let's make sure he doesn't make it to 600," Buffy said firmly. "I can do this. Death is my gift. I am the weapon. I am the Slayer, made to put him down."
Spike lunged for her suddenly, growling and kissing her throat and shoulders. "My girl's so bloody powerful. All that strength…"
"Spike! Wait!" Buffy's breathless voice was torn between amusement and annoyance.
Giles smiled. He'd never heard her sound like that, so comfortably loved. And then frowned. Oh no. Oh dear.
"Um. W-we're gonna go do a sweep," Buffy said, edge of something behind the breathlessness in her voice.
Giles wasn't a fool. He tried to ignore and repress a lot of things about his young charge, but he couldn't deny the sound that indicated desire. "Buffy?" he said seriously.
"Yes?" her tone changed as well. She sat up straight, and Spike sat behind her, face now grave.
"Please remember something?"
"Anything. What?"
"You have so many people that love you. Don't get hurt seeking love that - that may not be … reliable."
"I promise." Buffy gently hung up the phone and turned to face Spike, who looked like he was steeling himself for something painful.
"I heard." Spike moved back from her.
"Well… we can put distance between us. Or we can prove that we're reliable, that we don't change, even if the hold breaks or gets removed."
"Second option." Spike rose at once and pulled on his clothes. "Patrol?"
"Sure." She moved gingerly, limbs still a little rubbery from the bout of orgasms he'd given her, feeling tender from the hard thrusts of his fingers.
"Then?"
"I don't know." She pulled her bra and underwear on. "I don't… tell guys I love them. It hurts. I shouldn't have told you, because like I said… painful."
"The only part that hurts is when they leave. I won't go." Slid on the belt, shoulders tight, back turned.
"Come home with me again?"
All the pain that he expected buggered off, tension in his face replaced with simple delight. She means it.
"Lemme stop and get some blood first?"
"Okay." Her smile was restored. The aching in between her hips was restored, too. "You know, I said I wasn't hyped up anymore, but I'm still not tired. Nope. Not at all."
"Baby's up for seconds? Thirds?"
"Fourths, fifths, who's counting?" she teased, eyes regaining their sparkle.
"That's my girl."
"That thing was hideous! What was that?"
"Putrification Spawn. You're lucky it wasn't full grown!" Spike shook slime from his hands before tossing his coat out on the porch rail. "Gimme your jacket."
"It's in my hair! Oh my God, my eyes! Am I going to go blind?" Buffy spluttered and wiped a viscous-coated arm across her eyes and back through her drenched ponytail. So not working. This is like slime squared.
"No, but you'll get sores if you don't get it off you. Let's go, hustle in, shower, soap, lighter fluid."
"Lighter fluid?" She unlocked the front door and pulled it shut behind them.
"Covers the stench."
"I have candles for that."
"I prefer them like this, as opposed to the other way." He winked.
"We will never speak of that."
"A pale substitute, hey, Luv?"
"Yeah, I think I just prefer something pale and authentic."
He chuckled and she chuckled back, leaning against each other, thoroughly horrific looking and smelling worse. "You have some seriously strong soap, Luv?"
"I have this plumeria stuff that I swear smells like my grandmother's entire closet in a tiny bottle. I never use it."
"Let's use it."
"Okay. Uh- together?" Buffy realized that he was stripping off as she was.
"Unless you'd like to have to fumigate your dear mum's house…"
"Come on. One essence of old lady's potpourri scrub down comin' up." What is this? When you laugh at all the gross stuff and you're relaxed and you're horny and you're happy and you don't care that you almost got your arm bitten off by a slimy thing the size of a Buick?
"You got a washer? And a gallon of bleach?"
"My nose is melting, screw the laundry."
"I'll do it. I don't have to breathe or inhale, remember? Point me at it, meet you upstairs?" He took the pile of clothes with a wince and followed Buffy's directions to the basement, shoving the stuff in the washer, pouring in triple the dose of washing powder and praying to any deities who might take a vamp's call that he wouldn't destroy Joyce's appliances. Not a good way to get the mum of your girl to like you.
The mum… of your girl… What in the world?
What the hell is this? Even with Dru- it was never like this. Companionable, the fightin' the near-shaggin', the laughter, the jabs. Smilin' when you're covered with the equivalent of shit in sneeze form.
No, I don't care. Not even a bond could do this. This is real. Oh, shit, why's it gotta be real?
Why'm I so happy about it?
"I'm coming in."
"You're supposed to knock!
"I've already been invited." Spike slid into the shower and inhaled the highly floral steam. "Hell, you're right about that, like someone's gran's parlor on steroids."
"But so much better than Mr. Stinky and Oozy."
"Amen to that." Spike took the pink loofah puff whatsits she offered him. "Sponges have gotten awfully fancy since my day," he muttered, puzzled.
"You want a plain, boring washcloth? I have one."
"I'm good."
"Are you?" Buffy leaned against the wall and watched the vampire scrub himself clean with her personal bath puff, and wondered why the heck they were there together. No soul. Chip. Chip is metal. Machine. Removable. Insertable. Am I only in love with the modified version of this guy?
"What's up, Pet?"
"If you got the chip out tomorrow, what would happen to me?"
"Well… reckon the biting thing'd happen a shade quicker, but not much. I don't want you to hurt, of course. So we just wouldn't have to worry about my head, but I'd still worry about you. No fear there, Luv. I wouldn't stop takin' care of my girl."
She nodded. Came up to his smooth, ivory back, and sluiced it down. Laid her head against it as her arms went around his waist. "And what else?"
"Hm? Oh, I suppose we'd celebrate. Although," he turned and faced her, "you don't think it's much of a celebration?"
"It depends. Angel had no chip. He didn't bite people. He had a soul. But you don't have a soul. And you love me. You care about me."
"Yeah. So. Lemme ask you. If I got it out tomorrow, what'd you do? Stake me? Dangerous beast, me. A killer."
"Killer is what they call you when you end lives. Bad or good. I killed something tonight. You were with me. One weapon and another. We kill."
"We protect."
"You've got light in there, but -"
"You wanna know if I would use it."
"Yes. Just 'cause… well, I really hate when my boyfriends go evil. And you're already evil, so I was hoping I could avoid that step."
"You called me boyfriend."
"No! Well, as an example. You're more. You're kindred." She bit her lip, eyes wide, unwittingly seducing with their glints in the steam. "Never had that before, don't care what the Caped Wonder says."
"I'll use my weapon the way you use yours. Can you give me that?"
"What would you drink?"
"Blood."
She smacked his arm, and he grappled with her, pressing her back in the steamy shower, feeling her hot and wet against him, all smooth, slippery skin. He growled low and playful.
"I didn't hear an answer, fang boy."
"Oh, petty insults now, Luv?"
She looked up at him, playfulness cracking. It'll hurt. If you go away, change, she thought.
He stopped the rough grip on her arms and answered. "Donated. Butchers. Hospital. Slayer's. If she'll have me." She nodded, eyes wide, silent. "All right. An' what about you? Said we were even. What if I wasn't de-fanged anymore. What then?"
"It's all about how you use them from now on. I kind of like what you do with them. But if you ever tell Riley-"
"You don't like bein' bit, you don't like vamps. You like me and you like that I give you pleasure. An' love. And that's between us."
"Good. Very good answers. Smart guy." Buffy pushed herself to tiptoes and kissed him. He kissed her back.
"Wanna play?" Spike asked in a voice that had gone raspy with desire. The reassurance and the heat, the wet silk of her skin, plus a nice, messy battle about thirty minutes ago, tanked up on aphrodisiac blood… Mmm.
"Play what?" Buffy tiptoed her fingers along his arm and up to his neck- then scraped one fingernail slowly down, removing a thin layer of skin, making white on white if one could see in this dim light.
"You name the game."
Sounded so tempting. Except she didn't know any games. Her head dipped. "Sorry. I actually don't know any games. Angel- not game playing. Riley- also not very playful." Sweet. Loving. Boring. How come every time I thought he was boring, I ignored it? Was it because he could kill demons? Giles can kill demons, and I think of him as boring all the time! I am a very messed up person. I think maybe Mom's denial is hereditary.
"Just an expression. We can play things we make up, or not. I just meant you tell me what you'd like to do. I know what I'd like to do, but it's worth waiting for. Don't look sad, Baby. You know you're gifted? A natural?"
"You always say the right thing. That's either going to make me very happy or get very annoying."
"Let's hope it's the first one," Spike laughed. "I think we're clean enough. Get out?"
"Hmm. No. I think I thought of a game," Buffy grabbed a bottle of her shower gel, which smelt like honey and vanilla, not a field's worth of dried flowers. "Human Scrubby? Or in my case, Vamp Scrubby?"
His eyes sparked. "Oh, clever Slayer. My girl's a genius. How do we play?"
"You have to get the other person extra squeaky clean, but you can't use anything but yourself and the suds you make to do it. I'm tempted to say no hands, but I love your hands, and there are definitely…" she dotted gel over them both with slow eroticism that she hadn't known she possessed, "hard to reach places where fingers are useful."
God damn, I love this woman. "You go first?"
"Okay," she wound her arms around his neck with a smile, loving how it was returned. "It's a good thing you're dirty. I'm gonna have a lot to do."
"Fuck, Buffy…" He gasped as she squirmed down him, breasts to chest, then thighs, cock in between. "How'd I get so lucky?"
"You were willing to help. Helping is a very good thing. You should remember that." She pressed her sudsy cleavage around him, sandwiching his hardness in between as she looked up at him with newfound confidence, a sinful smile on her pink lips.
His eyes rolled back and the lids closed as his fingers tenderly started massaging her scalp, neck, and shoulders. "If this is what a helpful fellow gets, Slayer, you have my help forever."
"Spike? What's going on?"
"Dreamin'?"
"I'm asleep."
"I know, I think I am, too. Must be."
"Fell asleep next to each other. You're not a blanket hog. I like that."
He chuckled. "Room temperature. Easy to have around. An' you're lovely and warm. Perfect for me. Why do you think we can't stop seein' each other when we sleep?"
"You said something. Me in thee or something?"
"Well, you and I have created one damnably strong link pretty sharpish. Your blood. My blood. Kindred. Other intimate little fluids."
"Do you think -"
"Do you think this young one can take what is mine?"
Buffy and Spike fell silent as third, unwelcome voice interjected into their conversation.
"I wasn't yours," Buffy informed it coldly.
The voice now attached to a body, an outline, shadowy with his dark flowing hair and grayed out skin. Intense blue eyes were ringed by white, pallid skin, the only color in the being invading their shared consciousness. "You still are bound to me- by a thread. And don't think that I will let you go. I like the fight in you. When you at last submit- it will be so much sweeter. And look how easily you gave your heart to him- such a warrior's heart and he's so weak."
"No, he's not!"
"You don't even give yourself fully to him. Your heart still belongs to the human. Don't you know you're more than that? You want to play at normal, Huntress. Why? You and I were meant to shine, to rule. I offer you more than merely a bridal bed. I offer you a crown. A kingdom. You will be beyond my wife, you will be my queen."
Buffy looked at him with bored eyes. "Are you done? This is very melodramatic. Besides, you're doing this all wrong. You just said I wanted to be normal, so why the hell would I want to be the queen of the undead? That's as far off the end of the normal spectrum as you can get! And you live in Transylvania or someplace rustic and castlesque, right? I'm in college! I have a social life! How would we get together with my friends? I bet flying commercial is a pain in the ass when you're limited to night flights. Spike, back me up?"
Spike smiled and drawled, "Flyin' would be a bitch, Luv. Plus, if you travel with Spooky, here, no chance in hell you can go the quick lane with carry on. He's gotta have his whole ruddy coffin and box o' homeland or he's a cranky little poof in the evening."
Dracula growled, a cat-like sound that changed to a wolf's enraged, echoing howl.
Buffy woke with a start, clutching her head. The howl reverberated in her ears. The nagging pain turned unbearable and sharp, like needles piercing the back of her eyes. She tried to stand, but slid, faltering and stumbling as her hand couldn't find purchase on the wall. "Oh my God, make it stop," she managed to say as she fell to her knees.
"The hold is still there, dammit!" Spike rolled from the bed to the ground beside her. She doubled up, head to knees, eyes squinched tight. "It'll pass. It'll pass."
But it wasn't passing. It almost seemed to get louder. From Spike's position of worry over her, she knew he couldn't hear it, wasn't affected by it now that they were awake. She gave Spike a silent, helpless look, and he saw blood trickling from one nostril. Her eyes closed and then opened, and he realized with horror that they were two different sizes.
Break it. He could almost hear the words. Drac had no hold on him. It wasn't the invader's voice, but something silently waiting inside himself was now whispering warnings, Break it or she dies. Exploding, bleeding from the inside out.
The form convulsed next to him and he pulled her close, suddenly unsure. "It's a trick, it has to be a trick."
Buffy suddenly rolled to her side, still in the fetal position, and ran her hand pointedly over his forehead, and then his lips, feebly lifting her head enough to expose her neck.
He didn't stop to consider if it would hurt. It didn't matter if it would hurt him. "She's mine. You can't have her. You'll never, ever break her," Spike growled as he seized her up into his arms, and bit her hard. She gasped and shuddered- but his chip didn't go off. Her torso went limp instantly, in relief from ending the pain.
She weakly clawed her way up him, breaking his bite and kissing him, for the first time ever while he was still wearing his fangs and her own blood stained him scarlet. "Thanks," she said in a barely audible voice.
"Bastard," Spike kept a hold of her, cradling her. He had loved to cradle Dru, but with Buffy, it was wrong. Wrong like this.
"I- can't fight him- if he can- do that to my- brain." Buffy's sentence was punctuated with shallow breaths.
"I know. But when the hold breaks-" He kept her head tilted back watched in relief as her eyes returned to normal, and his thumb wiped away the trickle from her nose. He kissed the black-red streaks it had left around her lips.
"Said I didn't give myself to you. My heart was Riley's. No. Not true. Just not ready for all the - all the things," Buffy kissed him back, reveling in his gentle, concerned touch, the way his eyes didn't leave her face.
"Pet, I don't believe a word that git says! Don't you think on it."
"Called you weak."
Spike's confident tone faded. "I'm- I'm chipped. I'm not weak. I'll match him, Luv, go toe-to-toe, only he can slip away, fog and mist and all. Maybe those wicca buddies of yours could help us with that? Get him locked down, yeah?"
Buffy's head lolled back before she made a push to rise, looking at him with a soft smile. "Such a liar."
He was tempted to drop her. He stiffened, jaw tight and eyes glaring, but she continued with the same exhausted smile.
"Has he ever killed a Slayer? Nope. Have you? Yep. Not that I'm pro-slaying of Slayers. But I am pro-Slayer of Slayers. We're going to dust and decapitate or- immolate- his ass. He's the weak one. You don't hide behind tricks. You have brains. And muscles. Soooo many nice muscles."
"He slammed into your brains but good," Spike laughed gently at the sweet form in his arms. "C'mon. Back into bed. Get some kip. I'll stay awake. Maybe he won't bother you if I'm not in there."
"Nah. He'll bother me wherever. He doesn't like when I talk back to him, did you notice?" Buffy wiped her nose and upper lip with a tissue, removing the final visible remnants of the attack.
"That I did. Pissy little blighter, isn't he? Likes to order and lord it about, probably thinks a strong woman would be a challenge, someone equal for a change, someone to - to make him feel like he's somethin' real," Spike's voice faded away. "Finn's lucky."
"Hm?" Her injured, sleepy brain fought its way back to alertness.
"You gave him a shot in a million. To be with you. No thralls. No deals. No barters and hidden contracts to be made to get you out of a jam. He was just your sort of guy an' you picked him. Lucky." He flashed her a smile that didn't match the intense and sudden sadness in his eyes.
"But I didn't love him. I tried to," Buffy confessed as they wearily settled themselves back into bed. "Spike, if I love someone in spite of the bad jams, the weird contracts- I think that's deeper. It's more work. Less fun. Less normal. If I love you with all that garbage…" she was too tired to be coy or glamorous about it. "Then it's real."
"Then it's real," he repeated wonderingly. "Sleep, Luv. I hope you an' I have a nice time in your dreams. I'll be out here. The bouncer for the misty mentalist."
She gave him a tired kiss on the ribs, the only part she could easily reach as she laid down and he sat up.
In moments she was sleeping. Spike stared at her for a long time. He had instincts inside him that were pulling at him to do something, but he didn't know if they were useful instincts or a load of rubbish. Well, who knows? We're not flying entirely blind, but with a pretty smudgy set of lenses. He placed his hand on her head slowly, softly, so she wouldn't wake up.
"She who needs no protection, is protected by me, all the same. I challenge any bond or claim any others have over her. This Slayer is mine and … I am hers. If she is under my protection then I'm under hers. Any power I have is hers. And power she shares, I'll willingly take. My sweet Slayer. Kindred one..."
For the first time in days, Buffy's heartbeat went back to its normal rhythm, and her sleep was dreamless and deep.
To be continued...
