Chapter 18: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

A/N: I am so, so sorry that this much time has passed between updates! RL has been crazy, and my burnout on all things Buffy has been worse. I'm slowly getting back on track, though, and I offer up this chapter as an apology. :)

Big, big thanks to my betas, deiticlast, murg, and satsuma and to kerrykhat for putting up with my neuroticism! And thank you so much for the reviews/love, and to ChloeBlack, DreamsHurt, emeraldsorceress, isugirl, Lala, lucidhallucinations, and SpruceGoose for the recs!

The ride back to Shreveport was a quiet one, which was more than fine with Buffy. She wasn't in the mood for talking, arguing, driving, or any combination of the three.

In fact, when Eric had held the passenger side door open for her – oh so subtly indicating that he would be the one behind the wheel this time – she simply slipped inside and fastened her seat belt, completely objection-free.

Seriously, she hadn't even thought a snarky comment. She had more important things to focus on.

And just like she had suspected, Eric was pretty happy to sit in silence, his mind obviously on other things, too. It was why she had decided to go with him and not with the others in their cars.

Even if Xander had looked at her as if she had suddenly sprouted horns.

As much as they had agreed that they didn't have time for their issues, it was hard not to be annoyed by this, and Buffy had to force herself not to overreact to this. After all, while teaming up with a vamp was hardly groundbreaking by this point, she had laid several Hellmouth-sized bombshells on him.

And now that Vi was vamp-napped? A few deep breaths were definitely in order, because Xander and Oz were right; this had 'trap' written all over it. The Council she knew and hated just wasn't in the habit of negotiating – or letting a vampire walk away – no matter what the cost.

Images of her girls flashed in her mind, and Buffy clenched her fists in anger.

Yep, things were about to get ugly, as in hideous, turn to stone kind of ugly, and all because the Council had a crippling case of tunnel vision.

Seriously, why poke the proverbial vegetarian bear with a stick until said bear snapped and drained everyone within a mile radius dry? Why not save the precious stick for those other demony bears instead? Or better yet, why not fight bear with bear?

Mixed metaphors aside, Buffy knew she was on to something.

There was obviously no love lost between these new vamps and hybrids, and she was so down with the whole 'enemy of my enemy' thing. On top of that, she was also pretty sure that Eric and vamps like him would take some drastic measures amongst their own to keep their place in the human world.

She could totally make that work – even if it did mean being around Eric on a more permanent basis. After all, she couldn't do any of this without vampy allies, and so far, he was the only one standing in line.

And no, she hadn't taken up permanent residence in the Land of Wishful Thinking. She knew that these vampires were not angels, even the mainstreamers. It was in their nature to kill – particularly her.

So yeah, allying with them might not work, and even if it did, she was thinking 'uneasy truce' at best, one where she might have to make compromises she might not be able to live with.

Still, she was starting to believe more and more that it was worth a shot, that she needed to shake up the slaying game, Buffy-style.

It wasn't like she did neat and tidy very well anyway. And really, did it get any messier and more complicated than her relationship with the vampire sitting next to her?

Buffy glanced over at Eric with a scowl. Fine. She could admit it. She needed him.

She just didn't know how she felt about that.

With a sound of frustration, she settled back into her seat and closed her eyes as she tried to regain her regain her focus, unaware of the way this drew a curious glance from Eric.

He, however, said nothing; he merely turned his attention back to the highway, eager to return to Fangtasia as quickly as possible. According to Pam, Chow was on the verge of tearing the bar apart, and in truth, he was feeling less than charitable at the moment.

That one of his own would be abducted right under his own roof was galling. Knowing that the retribution was limited was maddening.

Unfortunately, a group like the Council was well-organized and smart, and they would like nothing more than to provoke vampires into doing something rash, something that would discredit them in the eyes of the general public.

Yes, it had occurred to him that Violet's abduction was a ruse at the least, the first salvo of war at worst.

Frankly, he was surprised it had taken them this long.

But then, it seemed as though most of the Council's power relied on the slayer, didn't it? Perhaps they had simply been waiting, biding their time until now when they had their slayers in a row.

Well, almost.

As he steered the car off the main highway onto a side road he frequently took, Eric looked over at Buffy again.

She returned his gaze this time, eyebrow raised questioningly, having immediately noticed the change in direction.

Eric gave a faint smile. "Shortcut," he explained. At her skeptical look, his smile grew wider. "Nothing more, I promise."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "As if," she retorted as she relaxed back into her seat, her thoughts turning inward once again.

Eric smiled to himself. He could see why Dracula had been drawn to her. She was both life and death personified, and he found himself unable to look away.

Even if he had wanted to.

They continued to make their way back to Shreveport in silence, with nothing but the sound of the car's engine and the occasional rustle of wind to fill the space between them.

Buffy could see why Eric went this way – his Corvette was meant for isolated, windy roads like this one. The way they zipped around corners was both exhilarating and relaxing, and she felt a little lighter than when they started the trip.

For the first time ever, she totally got the whole boys and fast cars thing.

She leaned back, idly watching the scenery as it flew by.

That was probably why she didn't see the pipe in the road, the one with the spikes sticking out of it.

Eric saw it, though. Unfortunately, while his own reflexes had more than enough time to react appropriately, his car did not; for whoever had put it there knew what they were doing, having placed it on a blind curve so he would not see it until the very last moment.

Still, if that were the only issue, he could've easily handled it. However, their mystery attacker had also had enough foresight to place their little contraption in such a position that it only clipped one side of the car.

With a quiet curse, Eric gripped the wheel tightly. "Hold on," he said tersely.

Then there was a loud bang, and the car began swerving uncontrollably on the road.

Buffy, who had been caught completely off-guard, let out a yelp of surprise. Then she began grabbing at whatever she could as she sent a terrified glance over at Eric.

Why the heck wasn't he stomping on the brakes?

To her surprise – and absolute joy – he seemed remarkably calm. Seriously, how bad would it be if Mr. Cool, Calm, and Annoyingly Collected was freaking out? And was it her imagination, or was he somehow compensating for the spin so that they skidded across the pavement in an almost controlled way, slowing down little by little in the process?

Yep, for a split second, she actually thought they were going to be alright. Hence the incredible disappointment when she realized that she was wrong.

There just wasn't enough road, and what was there was way too windy.

The worst part was that there was nothing she could do except helplessly watch as her side of the car careened toward the trees.

Buffy braced herself for impact, for all the good it would do. Right before they hit, however, Eric muttered something under his breath. Then the car lurched and shuddered as it suddenly changed direction, spinning the other way and leading her away from the trees.

At the same time, Eric twisted in his seat, throwing as much as his huge, hulking body over her as possible in such a small space, using quite a bit of his strength to pin her head, shoulders, and torso to her seat so tightly that she could hardly breathe.

Her slayer instinct told her to fight back. Thankfully, her Buffy instinct knew what he was doing and told the slayer in her to shut the hell up.

There was another mind-scrambling lurch as they came to a stop with a sickening crunch of metal and glass.

But they weren't spinning anymore, and hey, she wasn't dead. Still, Buffy sat there for a moment, a little dazed and a lot sore, as she fought to get her bearings.

It was the tentative hand against her cheek that brought her rushing back to her senses.

Her eyes flew open, and her vision was immediately filled with big, blonde Viking as Eric hovered above her, with nothing but concern in those bright blue eyes of his.

She suddenly felt the urge to kick him. Hard. Because otherwise she would end up kissing him.

Sure, her leg hurt, and it felt like she was being crushed, but that was more likely from Eric and his kick ass impression of an airbag – which was probably the only reason she wasn't dead. That, and the fact that she was almost positive he purposely steered the car so his side was hit instead of hers.

She looked up at him and tried to smile back, but it came out more like a grimace. Embarrassed, she scrambled to think of something to say. Before she could, however, something else grabbed her attention – or more accurately, her slayer senses.

They weren't alone.

Eric gave a grim nod. "Werewolves," he said quietly. "At least half a dozen, coming down of the hill across the road."

Buffy bit her lip. In her experience, werewolves were just people who weren't in control of themselves three nights of the month, which meant they weren't evil and definitely not slayable. But tonight wasn't anywhere close to a full moon.

She had a feeling she was about to be unpleasantly surprised.

Buffy reached to undo her seatbelt. It had been damaged in the crash, however, and wouldn't release, so she finally just yanked it out. Then, after some finagling, she pulled her leg out from where it was trapped in the wreckage.

Eric, she noticed, hadn't moved an inch, though. In fact, he was still kind of leaning into her.

She looked over at him, ready to say something snarky about his personal space invading, hair smelling ways. The comment died in her throat, however, when she finally got her first good look at him.

The tree that had stopped their momentum had completely crushed his side of the car – and him with it. She couldn't see his legs in the heap of twisted metal, and to be totally honest, she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Buffy looked up at him, completely speechless. While getting squished wasn't fatal for a vamp, it definitely wasn't much fun, either.

Almost frantically, she leaned over as far as she could and tried to pry away the metal, pull him out,something.

After a few enormous yanks, she managed to pull out the console between them so he at least had the room to move over to her side of the car. Then she began tugging at his legs, slowly extricating them from the mess.

Eric, however, knew it was useless, as the bones that weren't completely crushed were mostly certainly broken. He put his hand over hers to still her movements.

"There's too much damage," he explained.

Buffy blanched. "I don't suppose you'll heal in, oh say, one minute?" she asked hopefully.

Eric raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Blood," he said bluntly. "Your blood will allow me to heal rapidly."

Buffy stared at him incredulously. If she hadn't known better, she would've sworn he had planned this. As it was, she was totally taking back all the nice things she had been thinking about him just seconds ago. And still, he was looking at her, waiting for an answer, like it was even an option.

"Out of the question," she hissed.

Eric shrugged. "Then we will with both die," he said, lying back, looking almost relaxed.

Just then, they both heard what sounded like a whine, which was abruptly cut off. The werewolves were getting closer.

Buffy gritted her teeth as she quickly weighed her options. Could she really let a vampire drink from her? The only other time that had happened was when Angel had been poisoned. And now that she was reminded of that pleasant time…

"What's to say you won't lose control?" she asked suspiciously.

If the situation wasn't so serious, she would've laughed at how much Eric was offended by this. As it was, she could barely contain her frustration.

She really didn't have a choice, did she? Not with zero weapons and a bum leg against a pack of werewolves. She just hoped that it wouldn't come back and bite her – pun fully intended.

"Fine," she muttered. "But this is a one-time deal."

He nodded solemnly, the effect of which was immediately ruined by the slow smile that crept across his face as he reached for the back of her neck in order to pull her closer. While he certainly did plan this, he was not above making the most of the situation.

She immediately slapped his hand away. "Not a chance, buddy," she whispered hoarsely as she thrust her wrist out at him.

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just bared his fangs as he brought his mouth down to her arm.

Unable to look away, Buffy stared at him as she braced herself for the pain. Except that it never came.

Well, okay, there was a short burst of pain when he first bit down, but after that it felt…

No, she so was not going there.

Eric, for his part, knew in that instant that she had spoiled him for any other human. He took a moment to savor her blood rushed over his tongue. It tasted of power, of spice, of her.

Still, he was very careful to take just what he needed and not a single drop more, and when he was done, he licked his bites marks. Then he leaned back as far as he could and closed his eyes, completely satiated, as he absently ran his thumb over her wrist.

Buffy stared at him in shock. The seduction she was expecting. The gentleness? Not so much. Thankfully, she caught herself before he could see. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

Eric cracked one eye open, eyebrow raised in amusement. "It will take a few minutes. I trust that you can delay them?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please," she scoffed. "I have bantering down to an art form."

She pulled herself out of the wreckage as quickly as she could, wincing when she put her weight on her injured leg. Apparently, it was worse than she had originally thought, possibly even fractured.

As if she had the luxury of being injured.

She let out a small sigh of relief when she spotted a random bar sticking out of the heap that was once Eric's car. It looked like it was a piece of the axle or something.

Ignoring the sound of protest from Eric, she yanked it out and stepped onto the road, immediately heading toward the noise so that she could head them off.

They came into view a few moments later, emerging from the other side of the road, about one hundred feet or so away.

And leading them all was Kennedy, with the Scythe in hand.