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…
Part XXV
"Giles is going to go get completely drunk or sleep for a week after today. This rollercoaster from hell of a day. I pissed off an ex-boss and two ex-boyfriends, my mother found out about us way too fast and uber bluntly, and my honeymoon ended." Buffy pouted as they walked. The whining wasn't exactly mature. She didn't care. Her brain hurt, her heart hurt, and her head was starting to join in the fun, pressure forming right between her eyes.
"Yeah, well, the way I see it is that you an' me got paid, your ex-boss got his stones handed to him on a platter, your mum still told me we could come round for cocoa, and my girl picked me over the human I hate most and the vampire I hate most. And the honeymoon isn't over, it's only changed locations." Spike pulled her under his arm and gestured expansively with the other, smile evident in his voice.
"That's right, we were heading home to start on our 'all animal' diet," Buffy teased, tension starting to dissipate. "Where do you want to go?"
He considered. Crypt had been christened, her home had an audience and had been similarly "christened" that morning, and the car- well, they were walking at the moment and they'd need to head back and get the car, but the car didn't have much privacy. They could drive back outta town, but Joyce was expecting them to show up at some point before sunrise, which was a good while away. "Dorms. They full?"
"No, they gave me our keys, but trust me, most kids from Sunnydale head elsewhere for college. The ones who arrive in a few days will be the ones moving in from out of state or other parts of the state."
"Poor saps, never knew what hit 'em. Think I should go vandalize the Welcome to Sunnydale sign and put 'Home of the Hellmouth' on it?"
"That poor sign has been run over like three times in three years. We should put some sort of warning up, but who'd believe me- why are you looking so pleased all of the sudden?" she inquired suspiciously, a hint of a giggle in her voice.
"Nothin'," Spike said quickly, hooking his arm more tightly around her waist to guide her footsteps to the campus. "Just fond memories. I much prefer this little burg now that you're in it."
"Uh, I was here first, remember?"
He leaned his chin close to her cheek, whispering like cool night air across her skin. "I absolutely remember you being here first. First time I saw you… I couldn't wait to move with you."
Her senses buzzed and tensed, adrenaline rising in a different way. "Move with me?"
"Saw you dance. Saw you fight. Studied you. Studied with you, you jus' didn't know it. Used to inhale everywhere in this damn town and get little drifts of you, so powerful, my girl. Thought I could just about taste you sometimes… so glad I was wrong. I wouldn't want to drink all of you at once. You deserve to be savored, kept and cherished and tended. The vine that always blooms, the harvest that always yields."
Sick. Wrong. He's talking about drinking my blood, draining me, killing me.
Past tense. I wanted to kill him, too. Why didn't I?
Because he was always willing to bargain, to trade, to make a truce. Because he worked with his head and his heart, not just his fangs. "When we get your chip out…" Buffy began, voice low, a mere shadow of itself, "we'll move together like that." She pivoted, stopping him, light foot between his heavy boots, something ready to lean in her step, a move before the fight. Her fingers crept down his arm and found his fist, knuckle to knuckle. "Hard?"
"Harder," he snarled, eyes narrowing.
"Hardest." She nipped the word against his lips as she rocked back, stealing kisses from him and looking so bloody pleased about it.
His eyes lit up and he purred, a low, rumbling growl that jostled the warm wetness inside her, a bass thump that flipped some internal switch. She'll be my Slayer. Through and through. He couldn't wait to fight with her, no punches pulled, yet no blows landed, anticipating each other, scoring little victories over each other, until one was pinned and the other gladly gave, releasing tensions at the end. He loved it even more, the way she said that "when we get your chip out." Not if. Not maybe. Not you. We.
It was one of those little phrases that speaks whole novels of intimate togetherness. He'd said it to we get you cured. When we have you strong again.
He'd said it to Buffy. When we break this hold. When we get you free.
Someone finally said it back.
It burst out of him as he grabbed her up in a crushing hug, just as she was moving out of his range."Love you, woman."
"Woman, huh?" Buffy let out an amused laugh at the sudden passionate phrase, harsh against her skin as he hugged her tight. "Love you, too, man."
"Sounds different when I say it," Spike chuckled and released her.
They walked faster, eyes alert. They saw one vamp stalking along behind a pair of teens and made quick work of him. The kill used to sate her. Dracula had known that rush was growing unsatisfying, that was how he lured her, caught her unguarded hunger, guarded weariness. Because there was always more, always more, never done. Not unless you die.
But now… "Need a bit more?" Spike grunted, watching her pant and shrug her jacket back into place.
"Yeah, more," Buffy agreed breathlessly. She waited.
He came through. "Think you can get me?"
"I've always been able to before."
His smile was wicked. "I quite like that part, now."
He knows just what to give.
Maybe I do, too. "If I catch you, then you have to catch me."
Chasing her down dark streets. Pinning her against walls. Legs up over his waist in a desperate coil of lust and want, not force and fight. "On three?" he asked.
"Three," she replied, and swung.
She made him work for it, by God. He didn't get her until they were on campus, hot kisses against a tree as his hand snagged her arms and twisted them back, loving the struggle against him, soft curves to his hard, heaving chest. It was a playful struggle, she could have snapped his grip in seconds, and he would never harm her. He released her arms with a soft sigh as she eagerly kissed him back. "I knew you'd win," she said with such relief and delight. "Always there."
"Never gonna leave." He could feel her heat pressing into him, concentrating into two spots, her soft pink delta and the throbbing mark on her breast. "Baby's got geysers for me, right floods inside of her, waiting to burst. Fill me up, won't you?" He teased with his lips, against her throat and her ear, hands undoing her ponytail and luxuriating through her silky tresses.
Buffy whimpered. Filling his mouth with her blood or her rapidly collecting juices, either one was fine, and oddly enough, both traced the erotic, hungry center in her brain. "What about you? Are you going to fill me up?"
He could spend oceans inside her, pumping out relentlessly, high on her blood. He could watch her swallow his scarlet stains off pale white forearm, like he'd done the second night they were together. Bathe her in him. Drown himself in her.
Always have been, drownin' in her. She breathes for me. Air was thick, couldn't swallow it, voice coming out rough and broken with gasping."Fuck, Buffy, we have to-"
"-get upstairs right now," she urged, and they parted long enough to run through the almost deserted dorm.
"We didn't make the bed," Buffy groaned as they fell through the door, clothes already clawing off, her hair hanging free across her face.
"We'll chuck a sheet on it, it'll be fine." Niceties be damned. They'd had the big bed and the pretty view last night, wedding night. They'd have it again later.
"But it-"
"It's gonna have to go straight to the laundry room anyway, Slayer," Spike reminded her pointedly, hands on her hips, standing behind her.
She felt it happen. The smooth forehead tucked and gathered into ridges against her shoulder. Never really felt it, so aware of it, she realized. Feel someone changing forms… That's amazing. Could anyone feel me turning from "normal" girl to "Slayer Mode"? "You're amazing," Buffy breathed out, turning to him. Her hands went to his face with gentle fingertips, and his ridges dropped in surprise. Funny, once so ugly, horrific, so grotesque, to her, still so horrific on the others she was hunting… but not on him. Not my Spike. He's magic. I can touch both halves of him, and he finds both halves of me. "How's it do that? Your eyes change color. Do you see me differently? Does the demon, does he-"
"The demon belongs to me, part of me. There's not really some 'split personality' goin' on inside of me, more like somethin' that's a driving force. In tune. Tried to get bossy with me sometimes, early on, but… I think hatin' Angelus helped 'tame' it. He wanted me to be like him, and I couldn't pull off that same level of bloody stupid poofery and arrogance, so… he did things. I got plenty of evil, plenty of hate, Luv. It's tucked away. Now, it's like a bit of your brain or a thought process,that's all," Spike tried to explain in terms she'd understand easily. "I don't see you any differently, no matter which color lenses I've got up."
"Mmm. Pretty eyes." Buffy tilted her head and he shifted with her, centimeters apart, weaving and swaying, eyes locked.
"Really?" His voice sounded pleased. It also sounded more bestial, more guttural, the accompanying purring came from his center, not his throat, a noise of amused pleasure.
"Pretty everything." Buffy's voice mesmerized him without any magical aids, her hands finding his temples and working their way down the ridges in his skin, watching his eyes close. No. Want him to see. Her fingertip hooked over his lip and slipped carelessly over a fang, the action so simple, but so deliberate. His eyes flew back open.
"Ambrosia. Everything pretty, that's you. You taste it."
"So do you."
Did he?
Definitely.
He tastes like… freedom. And darkness and that good kind of fight and -oh, fuck, I love him. Have to have him right now.
"Whoa!" Spike lost his more predatory face as he found himself suddenly pinned back to the bed, his wife feverishly kissing every inch of his face while her hands tugged at his belt. "I gotta say- you keep me guessin', Slayer," he gasped in pleasure as her teeth raked his jugular and she panted against him, hips squirming in a low-slung arc against his hardness.
"Mmhm. Always will. Like you, full of surprises," she laid on her back and pulled him on top, letting him have a turn to devour, greedy hands shoving her shirt up, pants down. "You think we can always do this?" she murmured as teeth nipped and lips fluttered over, a dance of sharp and soft.
Spike paused. Always was a powerful word. And yet… it fit. Wasn't really a question mark. "Of course. You're mine. I'm yours. No one can break-"
"Don't." Buffy frantically shushed him, eyes suddenly tense, even though her voice stayed breathless and her back stayed arched, legs stayed spread and hooked around him.
"My kindred. My light. Sun doesn't exist without moon, day without night."
"One day, you could exist without me. I'm mortal. I'm-"
"Not like you once were. Me, either. But I promise you, call it an added wedding vow if you like, that I end when you end. An' after- I go where you go."
She breathed easier. The day had been a whirlwind of stress and painful things to deal with, his presence like a shield and a supporting arm all at once. The joy and meaningfulness of last night's vows could never be erased, but they could be temporarily dulled. Now, things slowed back down, even as bodies sped back up, and the honeymoon air returned.
"It's our one day anniversary," Buffy reminded him as they moved together, legs twining over the hastily covered mattress.
"Hmm. That's not the silver anniversary, is it? Is it the pearl? Or perhaps linen?"
"I think it's the orgasm one."
"God, that's my favorite," he chuckled. "Can we have a repeat of that anniversary every night?"
"Sounds good to me. Every night. Forever. Always…" Buffy's eyes were luminous, even in the dark room.
"That's right. That's my girl. My wife," Spike pulled the damp fabric of her panties away from her soft pussy and pushed easily inside, making her moan. Filled her all up. Me in she and she in me. His own eyes glowed, golden embers twinkling as she gripped his cock and pumped him hard.
"Yours, ever and always. Past life and death… We said that. Past life and death. To a second life and beyond. What does that mean?" Buffy asked the serious question in a dreamy voice, lost in the sensations of her husband kissing her breasts, biting and breaking the skin just enough to make her wince in pleasure, just enough to feed the tiger, enough to make the wildcat in her stretch its claws.
"I dunno," Spike felt the ambrosia rush his tongue and he licked her fingers after taking them from her hot, wet center. "Oh, God, what a cocktail."
"Cock tail," Buffy giggled at his enraptured expression and her dirty, floaty mind.
"Your sweet blood and sweeter pussy. Hmmm. Wonder if…"
"Wonder if what?"
"We'll come to it later," Spike assured. Wonder if I can taste my wife every day of the month? Every single day? His wicked mind wanted to know, to explore, to revel in the taboo of it, the good girl spreading herself and letting him drink in whole new ways.
"Because we have forever?" Buffy took a trickle of blood beading up from one shallow bite and painted his lower lip with it.
"Exactly," Spike sighed. She didn't sigh back, even as he took hold of her hips and slipped inside more deeply, through her clutching hands, letting them re-settle on his waist. "Problem?"
"Second life and beyond. Blood of my blood. Heart's blood, life's blood, my blood. Yours, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond."
"That's what we said."
"Does that mean- we don't separate after we die?"
"After? We're already dead, Pet. This is our second life. You bit it for a second, I did for a lot longer. You came back. So did I. We do the hard things, Baby. We beat death once. Do you think we can't do it again?"
Buffy read the seriousness under the light tone, the hardness under playful eyes. "Spike?"
"He crawled out of hell for you. But he wouldn't stay in the same damned town."
"Honey, don't-"
His fists crumpled the mattress beside her shoulders as he rose above her, thrusting into her as she moved back with equal fervor, eyes never leaving hers. "He couldn't give you what you need. I'll do that. Always can give my girl what she needs, even if it kills me to-"
"It can't kill you. Because I need you. What I need is someone who never leaves- or at least, always comes back."
He nodded, dipping his head to hers, "They'd be bloody fools to try and take us apart, Luv. You know I'd do what he couldn't. I have the demon working for me, not against me. I'll always come find you and we'll be back together again. 'Sides, that's just me, one lowly little vamp…" Spike stared at her until the realization dawned on her face.
"What's the universe compared to a pissed off Slayer who has a standing sex date with her eternal squeeze?"
"Mmm, squeeze me some more."
"Never stop."
"Promises, promises. Never stop, you said," Spike teased saucily to the woman above him, the woman who was only wearing his scuffed up silver band and a semi-high expression.
"If I break this bed-" Buffy took his full length in and out of her this time, loving the rushing sensation of empty to bursting, and also the look of desire in his eyes when he got back inside her. She did this to him a half dozen times before he snapped and held her on, lovemaking turning into love-wrestling for a minute.
"I can take you, you know," Buffy quipped as he pinned her.
"You just did. Very bloody thoroughly."
"Yet someone seems unsatisfied." Her wrists broke free, grabbed the pendant he wore, simple black cord highlighting the snowiness of his pectorals. A twist and a pull, and he was supine under her again. He wouldn't risk damaging the wiccas' gift.
"Ah, ah, ah, not unsatisfied, Slayer. Just an addict. I can never get enough of you."
"Mutual."
Words suspended. Too much effort in the frantic quest of trying to sate their shared desire. He flashed in and out of fangs, she keened in and out of mini-orgasms that were building and building.
"Floor." Spike heard the bed creak alarmingly and they moved just in time. They toppled, her underneath this time, tight globes cradling his cock and rubbing a slippery path that made them both moan. He straightened up behind her and waited for her to turn to face him or get back on top. She didn't, stretching forward and wriggling her hips in a clear invitation. Well, no man alive- and definitely not otherwise- is gonna resist that, Spike thought, feeling his fangs shift down hard.
Oh, right. That soft sleek place, where neck meets shoulder, hiding under all that lovely sunshine-golden hair. All that silky skin, never marked. Never owned. I don't own her.
"Not filled up. Wife's a-waiting, here." Buffy kicked her feet petulantly, pouting over her shoulder. Seeing his changed face, her own shifted as well, something more sensual, more seductive slipping over her features. "Oooh. Hello, Tiger."
"Hello, Kitten," he rumbled, hands skimming up, curling into fists meant to encourage self-restraint. She bumped her hips back into him pointedly, and self-restraint was shot. "Oh, fuck, stop that, Luv."
"Stop?" Buffy's jaw popped down, ruining the seductive look. "You were the one who was just complaining that I-"
"I want to bite you. Right there." Spike's fingers traced gently, then dug in, massaging the unblemished spot.
"Well, unless I'm missing something, your mouth will reach that spot while your cock is all the way inside another spot of mine, so stopping is totally not necessary."
"It's not mutual if I do it there, y'see?" Spike shook his head hard and blue eyes returned, pleading with her to make this simple. "That's like ownership. I don't want it to be like that."
"You are mine. You kneeled down next to me like the knight in the fairytales, pledging himself to the queen."
She gets it. "That's what I was going for, yeah."
Her eyes were big and bright as she twisted to her knees, facing him, pulling his head to hers. "I am yours. From now on, I kneel beside you just as much. If I'm your queen, well… you can be my king."
"I'm not a-"
"You're my everything," she whispered firmly. "Am I your everything?'
Flashes of an old life flickered before his eyes. Dark-haired beauty promising him eternal life, all the blood he could drink, all the mayhem he could render- and whirling away, leaving the world broken and bitter. "Yes," he admitted, suddenly breathing hard. "Mine."
"Mine."
It was perfect. She'd never been one to try this position. She loved the feel of his arms stretched over hers, his fingers gripping over hers as they braced together on the floor, knuckles clenched, white over tan, hips slamming into each other, the wet sound of her slick pussy making a soft slap against him as they peaked. "Now, do it now," she panted out, feeling her body start to spiral, muscles inside going into one long clench as if she could pull his release from him.
"Is that an order?" Spike laughed one short bark before he crashed across her.
There was an edge of playful warning in her voice. "Wanna disobey it and find out?" Damn stubborn, sexy, wonderful, husband-vampire.
"Never. You really don't mind?"
"Shut up and bite me right now!"
Words I never thought to hear. "Yes, Kitten." Or say.
Fangs slid into that soft, silky space with a rich, red gush that made her soak him and he felt himself burst with her as if perfectly orchestrated.
Buffy's knees gave out and she hugged the floor. He licked and kissed her shoulder and neck with a dozen whispered endearments before easing out and falling back on her almost at once, knees gone to rubber. In a second, the tired groom rolled off and lay on his back, arm open for her to fall across him. "That was… powerful. Like you."
"Like us."
He craned his neck a bit to stare down at her as she snuggled up and made herself comfortable against him, deliciously hot skin soothed by his lukewarm body. He shouldn't make so much of such small words, and yet he did. Shouldn't compare so often, and yet he did. With Drusilla, she knew he was powerful, but she'd made him. She'd watched him change, and she always had Angelus to use as a yardstick for him to measure up to. "You really believe the things you say, don't you, Slayer?"
"Typically," Buffy answered in a winded voice. "That was… wow. I didn't…. I never…" Come on brain. You can do this. "When you were with me, behind me- well, it's always good. But that was something extra. I trust you, like I don't trust anyone else."
"You can rely on me like you rely on yourself?"
"Kind of like that."
"I get that. I feel about you… the way I never felt about anyone." His voice struggled over a sudden lump of emotion. "Not even her."
Her fingers tightened around his, head on his chest now. "Same. Not even him."
It had been a beautifully long day. A hard, long day. "We gotta get up," Spike murmured, but didn't move. "Can't stay here, all shagged out."
"Who says?"
"Promised your mum we'd come by, anytime of day or night."
"We did?" Buffy frowned. "Spi-ike. Nooo."
"Don't pout. When you pout, I wanna fix it. Or get into your other little pouty places," Spike shushed, hand starting to wander.
"But, my mother-"
"Deserves to know you're happy and safe."
"A phone call couldn't do that?"
Spike looked for the clock and found none. He suspected it was in the wee hours. "Give her a call then. Ask her if we can come tonight instead, or over for breakfast. Oi, and tell her if she wants us there now, we'll come straight over."
"I can't go over now anyway. I have sex-hair."
"They have showers."
"I'd have to unpack towels."
"We'll dump out a few boxes. We gotta get this place shipshape by the end of the week anyway, don't we?"
"Um. Maybe? I was thinking about that." She stretched against him, propped herself up to look at the jacket that held a folded piece of paper worth quite a bit of money. "That check…"
"I was thinking that, too. You could get a little flat off campus and-"
"We. We could get a little apartment off campus. And a ring. I'm getting you a ring." Buffy subconsciously touched her finger, her ring finger, which was bare. It seemed to hold some phantom weight, and had their world not been spinning, and their "marriage" not been a secret, she would have asked Giles a little more about it, about all of it, the words they heard, things they felt, knew, and shared- without ever speaking a word.
Spike blinked at her. "I don't need a ring. I got plenty of 'em."
"Do you usually win arguments with me?" Buffy demanded, biting at his nipple gently.
He hissed in pleasure. "Seems to work out to a draw," he conceded. "But don't make it somethin' too flash. Your mum'll notice. She's hawk-eyed, that woman. How the bloody hell she didn't cotton to you bein' the slayer, I'll never know."
She waved him off that road to nowhere."Deep denial aside, you notice everything about everyone. I kinda hate it. Kinda love it. When she notices, she notices. She'll have to sooner or later, if that's how we plan to get my Translyvanian ex over here. Dracula hears I'm about to cause him some serious disgrace, he comes to kill me, and we can kill him instead. And Riley, and Angel…" She sighed. So much drama. And violence. I'm betting on violence. "We gotta get that chip out." Room spinning. Head spinning. Need sleep now.
He returned it."Quite the to-do list. Wait, did you say I could kill Finn? And Angel?" Talk about a wedding present.
"No! They get the 'Married Forever' memo. We don't kill the good guys."
"Are you sure they're the good guys?" A single brow was raised in challenge.
"Of course I'm-" Buffy paused. She'd been so sure Spike was the bad guy. Angel was good. With conditions. Riley- the good was fading fast. Had it ever been more than a veneer? "We don't kill them," she finally said after moments of mulling the situation over. "Unless they try to lay a hand on you."
"Or you."
There are people you will kill and die for. Without hesitation. Or conditions.
It's a scary thought to know you're one of those people.
"I love you, William," Buffy said in a small, soft voice.
"I love you, too. That's one thing you can be sure of."
Dark or light, we're together. Dangerous or mundane. "Stay here with me tonight? We'll get the car later before dawn and then go over?"
"Anything you say, Precious. Only, call your Mum first. Tell her we'll be round for breakfast. But- uh- it's okay with me if you make it sound like we spent the night chastely in our own accommodations after I walked you to your dorm."
Buffy rolled her eyes and crawled off of him, hating to leave his comforting presence even for a second. She grabbed the slim white phone perched on one of the mass-produced dorm desks. "In two weeks, you'll be the favorite, you know that right?"
"Two weeks? It only took a week with you, Slayer."
Spike ducked a well-thrown shoe and chuckled as she dialed.
To be continued…
Author's Note: Thank you guys for reading and supporting me here and supporting S.C. Principale on Amazon and Pat-reon, too! Couldn't do it without you!
Love, Sweet
