Service Unit

Chapter Forty-Two – Bonded

A swirl of steam heralded Spike's exit from the bathroom. He stepped into the bedroom, a towel draped around his neck as he used one end to dry the longish fuzz on his head. Buffy wasn't in the bedroom, so Spike wrapped the towel around his waist and headed for the living room.

Buffy was standing there in her robe, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared at the spot on the floor where Liam had died.

Spike walked up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her. "I made sure to get every bit, Buffy. Even wiped down the floor with a wet cloth."

She turned in his arms and pressed her cheek to his chest. "Was it hard?"

"The cleaning?"

"No, staking him."

"No, not really. I've no feeling left for the bastard, not that there was much to begin with, and besides, he asked me to. Begged me to, actually. It wasn't stakin' him that spun my head; it was everything else. Wondering if some choice I'd made brought us to this. If I'd done something differently, or not at all, then none of this would have happened. If I'd left LA when I first had the notion, for example, then I wouldn't have been languishing in an infirmary bed when Blazczak came to collect. I should've hit the road in Angel's Viper right after I finished kicking his arse all over that opera house. I wouldn't have spent more than two decades bein' tortured and you wouldn't have to deal with all my current and possibly future issues."

Buffy lifted her head. "Everybody has issues, Spike. Yeah, yours might be a little more unusual than most, but we'll deal with them together." Her mouth turned up in a slight smile. "You beat up Angel in an opera house? Why?"

Spike shrugged. "Something to do with a Cup of Perpetual Torment and the end of the world. You know, a normal Tuesday for you."

Buffy's smile widened. "Yeah. Normal. Whatever that is."

Spike nodded at the hall closet. "You'll need a new Hoover, pet. Chucked yours in the bin."

"Okay."

"I can replace it once I get this collar off. If you'll spot me a few quid, I'll find a demon poker game and raise the funds to buy a new one."

Buffy frowned slightly. "About that…"

"I won't cheat, Buffy… well… not much, anyway. And no kittens, I promise."

She shook her head. "Not the poker… the collar."

"You've changed your mind about the blood bond." His shoulders drooped and he dropped his gaze, looking at her shoulder instead of her face. "I understand. Um… then I'll need your permission to leave the building. Or… you might need to take me to the game. I haven't gone anywhere unescorted since I was given into slavery, and I don't think I'd be able…"

Buffy raised a hand to his face and cupped his cheek, lightly pressing until he lifted his eyes to hers. "I don't care about the vacuum, Spike, and I haven't changed my mind about the bond; I'm just not sure we should do it right now. Neither of us seems to be in the right frame of mind, so maybe we should wait a day or two, until we've processed everything."

He looked back at her for a few quiet moments then nodded. "All right. We'll wait."

She lowered her hand to his, clasping it tightly. "Let's go to bed. I don't know if either of us will sleep, at least not right away, but I know I could use some cuddling. I just want to be close to you. Okay?"

"All right, pet. Lead the way."

XXXX

They'd spent nearly two solid days in bed, leaving it only for nourishment and bathroom trips. They'd spent some time sleeping or laying quietly in each other's arms, but they'd spent most of the time talking. They'd told each other about their childhoods, their schooling, and their first loves. Spike had tried to keep his growling to a minimum when Buffy had told him about her relationship with Angel, but Buffy had sat straight up and yelled, "That bitch!" when Spike had told her the full story of Cecily.

They'd listed their favorite music, books, foods, movies, school subjects, and lots of other things, and they'd reminisced about the happier times back in Sunnydale. Buffy had been surprised at just how many times Spike had visited Joyce, and Spike had ducked his head shyly and mumbled, "Your mum was a nice lady, and she always had a cuppa for me." They'd even had a good-natured argument about who was the better fighter, which had led to furniture being pushed against walls to clear a space big enough to demonstrate their favorite moves.

XXXX

Buffy blocked a punch then dropped and swept Spike's legs out from under him. He crashed to the floor and she scrambled on top of him, miming bringing a stake down to his chest. "You're dust. I win."

Spike chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. "All right, pet, you won." He smirked. "This time."

She leaned down and nibbled up his neck, causing him to groan. "I win every time. The score's four for me and zero for you."

Spike grasped her hips and pulled her tight against him. "You have an unfair advantage, luv, considerin' most of my blood's not in my brain at the moment. Happens every time we fight. Happens if I'm just watchin' you fight."

Buffy sat up and stared down at him. "Really? Every time?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah. Even back when I was tryin' to kill you." He nodded toward her naked torso. "Although, your advantage might be a bit greater in this instance, considerin' you're starkers."

Buffy smiled and climbed off him. "And sweaty and gross." She slid a hand up her thigh. "And getting hairy." She reached down and grasped his hand, pulling him easily to his feet, then she trailed her fingers up his arm and across his chest. "I'm all processed and ready to do this thing… if you are."

Spike groaned again when her mouth closed on his nipple. He gently grasped her arms and pushed her back just enough to dip his head and catch her lips in a kiss. "I'm ready, kitten." He glanced down at himself with a smirk. "As you can plainly see."

She looked down and smiled then said, "Yeah, I see," as she stepped back and looked him over from head to toe. "You're looking a lot better than you did when you first got here, you know. You were way too skinny. I think you've put on some weight."

Spike looked down at himself and nodded. "I have. I'm almost back to where I was in LA. I'll have to be careful, though. Don't want to get podgy."

Buffy leaned into him and nipped at his chest. "Don't worry; I'll make sure you get enough exercise." She smiled up at him. "I'm gonna go get ready. Might take me a while with the shaving and plucking and stuff, so go get something to eat." She reached around him and smacked his butt. "You're gonna need your strength."

Spike yelped and Buffy laughed as she turned and headed for the bathroom. He rubbed at his backside then said, "Call out when you're ready to shower, luv. Want to join you." Buffy nodded with a grin then disappeared into the bathroom. Spike headed for the kitchen, laughing quietly, and heated two mugs of blood. He leaned against the counter while he drank his dinner and waited for Buffy to shave and pluck so they could shower.

XXXX

Spike stepped into the bedroom and looked at the rumpled bedding then smirked and reached down, grasping the covers in a fist. He flipped them into the corner with a muttered, "They'll just be in the way." He grinned at his handiwork then turned for the bathroom.

Buffy was standing at the sink, holding his toothbrush out to him as she started to scrub her own teeth. He took the brush and they spent a few minutes practicing good oral hygiene, taking turns spitting foam into the sink. With that job done, Spike stepped to the shower and started the water. "You get everythin' shaved and plucked?"

"Yep. I'm all smooth and hair-free Buffy." She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, trailing her fingertips over his stomach, then murmured against his shoulder. "Is it weird that I'm nervous?"

Spike turned and took her hands, stepping backwards as he pulled her into the shower. "Nervous about which part, the shaggin' or the bitin'?"

She smiled up at him. "Definitely not the 'shagging,' you goof. You know you're good at that. It's… I know you'll be careful not to take too much, but how will we know when you've had enough to seal the bond?"

"We'll know, pet. Not exactly sure how, since I've not done this before, but we'll know. And yeah, I'll be careful. If I feel like I'm takin' too much, I'll stop and we can finish up later, after you've had some food and rest. Won't hurt you, Buffy, not if I can help it."

He led her under the water and used a finger to lift her chin so he could kiss her. "Considerin' how much I've had so far, shouldn't take much more." He smiled against her lips. "Might only have to bite you three, maybe four times."

Buffy melted against him. "Sounds like I'm gonna have a busy day."

"That you are, luv. Plan to keep you real busy."

She slipped her arms around him and pulled him tight against her. "You'd better get started then, 'cause I'm getting kinda bored over here."

Spike leaned back and quirked an eyebrow. "Bored, eh?" He took a step back then reached for the body wash. He used his hands to soap her from head to toe, taking care to caress every inch of her skin. He also massaged as he went, and by the time he reached her feet, she was a standing pile of Buffy-shaped goo.

He rose to his feet and guided her back under the water to rinse. She sighed in contentment then giggled quietly when he asked, "Still bored?"

She shook her head. "Nope. That was amazing. Can I keep you?"

"Always, pet. Ready for the next bit?"

She looked at him with languid eyes. "I think I might be ready for a nap, actually. Can't remember when I've been this relaxed."

"How 'bout this? You go get comfy in bed and I'll have a wash then join you in a few minutes."

"What if I fall asleep?"

He smirked. "Think I can find a way to wake you up if I put my mind to it." He patted her backside as she stepped out of the shower. "Remember, no knickers."

Buffy smirked. "Still haven't done laundry, so that won't be a problem."

XXXX

He stepped into the bedroom, toweling his hair, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that met his eyes.

Buffy was lying on the bed, leaning back against a stack of pillows. She wasn't wearing knickers. In fact, she wasn't wearing anything at all. She smiled up at him, fondling her breasts as he stood at the end of the bed gaping at her. "How do you want me, Spike?" She bent her knees, opening herself to his gaze, then trailed a hand down to the junction of her thighs and circled her nub with a finger. "Like this?" He licked his lips. She rolled to her hands and knees then arched her back, presenting herself as she looked over her shoulder. "Or this?"

Spike stepped closer, placing one knee on the bed as he tossed the towel to the floor. "I'll have you both ways, plus several others 'fore we're done. Come 'ere." He reached out and grasped her hips, dragging her toward the end of the bed, then he slid to the floor beside it and buried his face in her. He licked, nipped, and sucked until she was panting and thrusting herself back onto his tongue then he rose to his feet and impaled her with a swift, hard thrust.

He pounded into her, his fingertips digging into her hips as she fisted the sheets and pushed back against his thrusts. She looked at him over her shoulder, her hair swinging wildly, and grunted out, "You can't bite me like this."

He grunted back as his hips continued their movement. "Not gonna bite you this time. Just gettin' you warmed up." He reached around and slid his fingers firmly over her nub then growled, "Come for me, pet."

She did.

XXXX

Buffy rocked her hips languidly as Spike's mouth closed on her nipple. She was sheened in sweat and her breathing was ragged as she slowly climbed toward the peak. The sweat was stinging the three bite marks Spike had already left on her, one on each breast, and one on the inside of her right thigh. He'd taken enough blood from them that he thought one more bite would cement the bond.

Spike's hands tightened on her backside as he thrust into her, pulling her down against him as he raised his head. "You ready, pet?"

She nodded and slid a hand around the back of his head, pulling him closer and presenting her neck to Spike's waiting fangs. "Do it."

Spike licked across the mark on her neck then gently sank his fangs into her flesh. Buffy tensed as he started to draw her blood into his mouth then she threw her head back as white light exploded behind her eyes and her entire body froze in ecstasy.

Spike felt the bond lock into place as his orgasm boiled through him. He held his fangs in place to extend Buffy's orgasm and swallowed the last mouthful of blood. When Buffy started to go limp, Spike withdrew his fangs and gently licked at the punctures, sealing the bite, then tipped them both to the side. They flopped onto the bed, breathing hard as their limbs twitched.

Buffy panted, "It worked. I can feel it. I can feel you…" She reached up weakly and tapped her chest over her heart. "…in here." She reached further up and tapped her forehead, "And here." She fumbled for Spike's hand and grasped it tightly in her own. "You're mine."

Spike squeezed her hand, "And you're mine. Forever."

Buffy murmured, "Forever."

Blackness consumed them both.

XXXX

Spike sat leaning against the headboard as Buffy slept beside him, his fingers trailing lightly along the necklace he wore – his collar. He should be able to take it off now that he was bonded with Buffy, should want to take it off, but…. he thought he'd feel more naked without it than when he was completely without a stitch. While he didn't think of himself as Buffy's property anymore, mostly, claiming him with it the way she had showed how much she'd wanted him, loved him, and he logically knew that taking it off wouldn't negate that, but... what if it did?

He looked over at Buffy, smiling slightly at her quiet snoring, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He'd worry about the necklace later. Talk to Buffy about it to see how she felt. He headed for the kitchen to make a mug of blood. He wasn't really hungry, the blood he'd taken from Buffy would hold him for several days, but he couldn't sleep, and he was bored.

He put his mug in the microwave and set the timer then started digging through the cupboards in search of a snack. He'd find something suitably crunchy then look through Buffy's bookshelves for something to keep his mind occupied while she recuperated. He opened a cupboard door and reflexively caught a box of votive candles that came tumbling out. He moved to place them further back in the cupboard so they wouldn't fall out the next time the door was opened and nearly dropped them.

He absently set the box on the countertop then stood staring at the mishmash of items in the cupboard. Perched on top, at the very back of the pile, was a binder with 'Unit 238' printed along the spine. Spike closed his eyes and stepped back until his bum collided with the island. He reached back, bracing his hands on the edge, and took deep breaths until the microwave's beeping startled him.

He peeked at the open cupboard then moved to the microwave and took out the warm mug of blood. He set it on the counter and turned toward the open cupboard door again. He knew what was in that binder; what story it told. It held no surprises for him, not one. He'd lived that story, every agonizing, torturous moment of it, but… he still wanted to… not read it, exactly, but… see what Buffy had seen.

Before he could change his mind, or actually, before his mind could take control of his body and prevent him from doing something he'd very likely regret, he moved quickly to the cupboard and snatched the binder out of it. It felt heavier in his grasp than it had any right to, but he clutched it tightly and started out of the kitchen, barely remembering to pick up his cooling mug of blood on the way by.

XXXX

Spike muttered, "Seems he was a wee bit obsessed with my bits and pieces, the bloody bastard," as he flipped another page in the binder. The picture on that page also showed his mangled cock, just like the dozen or so pictures he'd already looked at. Spike muttered again, "In full color, of course, the sick fuck."

Spike kept flipping pages, not really reading the text, just scanning it and picking out the odd word or phrase. Each one brought up vivid memories of that particular renter or punishment, and he'd let his mug of blood sit and go cold after nearly vomiting the first mouthful all over the details of his first punishment.

The pages describing the hood and its use sat in shredded piles of paper on the floor near his feet mixed with a few colorful bits that used to be the picture of him 'demonstrating' a huge dildo. The first several renter reports had joined the pile, but the cathartic feeling of tearing them to itty bitty shreds had worn off rather quickly, so Spike had stopped tearing out the pages and was now just numbly working his way through the binder. He could've closed it anytime, set it aside and never looked at it again, but he needed to finish the task he'd set himself.

He grimaced as a description caught his eye and the remembered pain of that particular renter's favorite pastime flashed through his body. He was nearing the end now, only a handful of renter reports left to look at, when a noise from beside him made him jump. He looked over to see Buffy's sleepy expression quickly turning to horror and disgust as she realized what was sitting on his lap. She dropped down beside him; firmly keeping her gaze locked on the wall across the room, and said quietly, "I didn't mean for you to find that, Spike. Not yet. Not until you were ready."

Spike slid the binder off his lap to the cushion and turned to face her. He reached up and took her chin gently in his fingers, turning her head toward him, then leaned in for a kiss. "It's all right, pet. I'm doing… okay, I guess." He dropped his hand and gave her a small smile. "Not sure I'd ever be fully ready, but I haven't run screamin' into the night, and you didn't find me curled into the fetal position droolin' on myself, so… I'm all right. I'm gettin' through it." He nodded toward the binder. "Nearly done, actually. Just need another few minutes and then…" He shrugged. "Not sure what comes after that."

Buffy waved a hand vaguely at the paper on the floor. "I'm guessing you don't want to put it in the box of keepsakes we don't have yet, but will be getting, so… incinerator? Wood chipper? Throw it in the ocean or down an abandoned mineshaft? Douse it in lighter fluid and roast marshmallows over it? Steal another rocket launcher and blow it to hell? Ask Willow to zap it into the world of nothing but shrimp? I'm good with any of those. I just want it… gone. Obliterated."

"As do I, pet. No argument from me on that point, I just don't know how it should be done. Not sure if a quick toss down the incinerator shaft will be enough of a… not a celebration, exactly, but..."

"I get what you're saying. It should take longer than opening the door and letting go. There should be a process or something. Steps." She stood up and walked over to the phone then dialed a number. "Dawnie? Could you get Jason to give Spike and me a ride to the beach after the sun goes down?"