Darkening of the Light by Addie Logan

Chapter #1 - Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If that came as a surprise to anyone, well, you need to get out more. This is for fun and not profit. Rating: VERY NC-17 (This is a darker fic, and not at all for the kiddies. Don't read if you're not old enough.) Author's Note: The one sort of fic I always said I wouldn't write was vamp Buffy. I have nothing against the people who do write them, and there have been some very well done ones out there—it's just never been something I've particularly liked. But then there I was, minding my own business, when this rabid plot bunny just jumped right up and bit me on the ankle, and damn it if the little bastard wouldn't let go. So here it is…my version of vamp Buffy. *kicks fanged plot bunny* WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC. It's not like my lighter fare, and not even as light as my angstier stuff. There is rape (though not particularly graphic and not between Spike and Buffy), character death (and more than Buffy's character undeath), graphic violence, and HEAVY angst. If any of this is a big problem for you, don't read this fic. If you do anyway and you're bothered by one of these things, it's your own fault for not paying attention to the warnings, and I will not tolerate flames regarding these issues. Hopefully we're all clear now. Feedback and Archiving: Both are welcome, but if you haven't archived one of my fics in the past, please ask permission before you do. Contact Info: email: addie_logan@yahoo.com website: http://www.dark-desire.org/blood updates list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/addielogan/ *** *** *** "Evil is neither suffering nor sin; it is both at the same time, it is something common to them both. For they are linked together; sin makes us suffer and suffering makes us evil, and this indissoluble complex of suffering and sin is the evil in which we are submerged against our will, and to our horror." —Simone Weil, "Some Thoughts on the Love of God" Where the clouds Pull apart Where the moon changes faces In the quiet Secret places Are you there? Are you there? Shine on friend. Goodnight. Why, then, the darkening of the light? —Concrete Blonde, "The Darkening of the Light" *** *** *** It had taken days for the screaming to begin. She'd been so stoic, so strong, but eventually, he'd broken her. He always broke them eventually… The screams and cries were nearly constant now, her conscious mind finally retreating, unable to take the torture from a demon wearing the face of the man she loved. The sound of them made Spike uneasy, made him shift uncomfortably in the chair she'd forced him to be confined in. He knew, being what he was, he should revel in those screams—or at least be able to deal with them better than he was. But he couldn't. The sounds she made now twisted in him, made him feel sick in a way he hadn't in over a century. She was a Slayer—a warrior. She was meant for a better end than this. Spike had fought his share of Slayers—killed two of them—but never had he even thought to torture one. It wasn't how that fight should end. The battle between Slayer and vampire was something mythic, something sacred. Or as sacred as a something damned could hold it. Angelus's defilement of the girl he had now was an insult to that. He hadn't been able to best her in a battle, so instead he'd chained her down, broken her to the point where she was finally someone he could control. And eventually, he'd claim the life of a Slayer, get to tout that honor as if he'd earned it. It made Spike sick. Part of him, too, felt sorry for the girl, though that was the part of him he was loathed to admit existed. As much as a Slayer was meant to die in battle, she also deserved that final fight. When Angelus finally decided to end her life, there would be no glory for her. And in the end, what did a Slayer really have except a glorious death? Nothing. "Why the sulking, my sweet Spike?" Spike turned towards the sound of Drusilla's voice, watching her as she danced naked in the pale moon light that filtered in through the mansion's high windows. Her ivory skin was covered in blood—that of the Slayer's—and it had a decidedly different effect on Spike than he was used to. He turned away from her again. Drusilla didn't take the hint. For all her intuition, Spike noted she could be so blind to what he was feeling sometimes, though whether it was intentional or not, he couldn't never figure out. She sauntered over to him, placing her hands firmly on his useless legs. "Do you feel left out, my darling? Too broken to play with the new dolly?" She couldn't be more wrong… Spike sighed. "Dru…" Drusilla stroked his face, leaving a trail of the Slayer's blood across his cheek. "You don't have to fret, my sweet. Daddy is going to make it all right again soon. He's going to make our family four again, they way it should be." Her words made Spike look up sharply. Drusilla couldn't possibly mean what it sounded like she meant… "What's Angelus going to do, luv?" he asked, dreading the answer as much as he needed his fears confirmed. Drusilla jumped to her feet and spun around once, clapping as she did. "He's going to make her like us! He's going to make me a sister, and he promises me I can play with her all I like." The sick feeling inside of Spike grew. Drusilla was obviously blinded by the idea of a life-sized dolly to add to her collection, but Spike had a feeling things were not going to play out the way she and Angelus hoped. A turned Slayer… It just wasn't done. It was wrong; it went against the natural order of things. Vampire fights Slayer. Vampire kills Slayer. It was the way it went, and changing it could only lead to badness. "Dru, I don't think…" She didn't let him finish. This game was too fun for William to spoil it with his sour mood… "Come with me. I want to watch Daddy make her one of us." Spike couldn't think of a thing he'd rather see less than that. He'd avoided Angelus's bedroom not just because he hated to see the older vampire's hands all over Drusilla, but because he didn't want to watch as he defiled the Slayer. It didn't thrill him, didn't make the demon in him shout for joy. It made the demon in him snarl in outrage. But Drusilla missed the protest that started on his lips and moved behind the chair, wheeling him in front of her as she returned to Angelus's side. Spike turned his head at his first glimpse of the Slayer since Angelus had taken her. The chains hung unused now, the broken Slayer past the point of fighting what was happening to her. Instead, she stared off into the distance, her mind somewhere else as Angelus moved brutally on top of her, violating the body the rest of her seemed to want to vacate. Drusilla jumped onto the bed, crawling over to the far side before kneeling beside the Slayer, her eyes wide with delight. "Do it now, Daddy." Angelus looked up at Dru and grinned before his face shifted, the demon emerging. Spike watched in horror, both man and demon inside of him for once in perfect agreement. This was wrong…no good could come of this… He didn't know what compelled him, and didn't fully realize he'd done it until it was too late, but Spike reached out from his wheelchair, his hand taking the Slayer's as it hung limply from the bed. She was just close enough to touch… And as his hand closed over hers, her head turned, and what he saw in her eyes made his stomach lurch. Recognition. Part of the girl was still there, still knew what was happening to her. Their eyes locked, and Spike mouthed what was only the second genuine apology he'd given anyone since he'd become a vampire. "I'm sorry…" The Slayer smiled softly at him, sadness in her eyes, yet understanding, too. Then Angelus's fangs entered her throat, and she bucked, her eyes rolling upwards as he fed from her one last time. Spike tightened his grip on her hand and didn't let it go until it fell away from him, lifeless. *** *** *** Any interested readers for this one? Please leave a review and let me know!

Chapter #2 - Chapter Two

When she woke, all she knew was hunger. Intense, searing; it made her scream, made her tear at the sheets around her with her claws. Until a rough hand pushed on her chest, holding her down. "Buffy. Stop." She turned, yellow eyes blinking slowly as she gazed upon Angelus. She stilled for a moment, taking in her surroundings. All around her, she smelled old, dried blood. Her blood. She remembered what had happened here, remembered what had gotten her to this state. Angelus… He'd cornered her, caught her at a weak moment, then brought her to this place. There, he'd broken her. Then, he'd done to her the one thing she'd always feared the most. She remembered. She remembered it all. And she would never forget... A slow smile spread across her face, her fangs glinting in the pale light. "I'm hungry…sire." Angelus's own evil grin met hers. *** *** *** The first kill had been so easy. The girl had cried, begged for her life, and yet there had been no soul inside of the newly-risen vampire to hear her pleas. Instead, she sank her fangs into the girl's fresh neck, unable to stifle her moan of pleasure at her first taste of human blood. It was better than anything she'd ever tasted before, better than anything she'd even been able to imagine. When the girl's heart stopped, the vampire threw her down to the dirty ground of the alley and licked her lips. Angelus moved behind her then, his arms wrapped around her waist. "See, baby? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Buffy turned, the smile on her face sultry. "No. It was… magnificent." Angelus ran his finger across her lips, then licked off the trace of blood he'd gathered from them. "I knew you'd love this, Buff." He smiled coldly. "Besides, what better way to thank you for helping me out with that pesky soul problem than to take yours." Buffy giggled, the sound taking on a chillingly evil quality. "And don't you worry, baby—I'm gonna do everything I can to thank you for this." "Mmm…that's my girl." Angelus grabbed Buffy by the waist, lifting her up until her legs wrapped around him. He kissed her harshly, fangs hitting fangs, tearing at each other's lips. He kicked the body of the dead girl out of the way as he brought Buffy to the brick wall and pressed her against it. *** *** *** It was nearing dawn before Buffy crept out of bed, careful not to wake Angelus and Drusilla. The other female vampire had been quite upset about not being allowed on her new "sister's" first hunt, but Angelus had made up for it upon their return, allowing Drusilla to play with them as much as she'd liked. Buffy padded down the hallway, rolling her shoulders as she did to work out the kinks. She knew not too long ago, she would've been disturbed by her nudity, but now, it seemed trivial. She stopped when she found Spike, his head tilted to the side as he slept in his wheelchair. He was pale and gaunt, and her newfound instincts told her he hadn't fed properly in quite some time. She watched him for a moment, trying to decide what she should do. Her initial thought was to not trust anyone, especially someone who had, at one point, been her mortal enemy. However, one memory stood out in her mind. Hazy, but there nonetheless. A hand clasped over hers… She walked over to him, crouching in front of the wheelchair. "Spike," she whispered, shaking him lightly as she did. When he didn't answer, she tried a little louder. "Spike!" Spike shook his head, his eyes blinking open. He frowned at the naked girl kneeling at his feet. "Slayer?" he asked groggily. "More or less," she replied. "Come on, I'll get you into a bed. You'll be more comfortable that way." Spike's brow furrowed, the situation seeming absurd, especially to his starved and sleep-addled brain. "Why do you care where I sleep?" Buffy reached out and stroked his cheek, the act the first gentle one she'd performed since she was turned. "Because you were the only one in this house to show me any kindness." Something was off, Spike knew, but he allowed her to roll him into one of the bedrooms, then help him into the bed. He'd expected her to turn around afterwards and go back to Angelus, yet she surprised him by climbing in with him. She slid down to the end of the bed, sitting up to take off his boots before she reached for the fly of his pants. Spike's hand shot out to still hers. "What are you doing?" "Making you more comfortable," Buffy replied, her wide, green eyes holding an innocence Spike knew he couldn't trust. "Pet, you shouldn't. Angelus…" She smirked. "Somehow, I don't think you much care what Angelus thinks." Spike sighed. To a point, she was right. But the way things stood now, with him being as weak as he was, he didn't want to run the risk of playing with his grandsire's new toy before the older vampire had had a chance to break her in as much as wanted to. Maybe, later, Angelus would allow Spike his own go with the blonde, but taking it for himself now was running a risk he couldn't currently afford. "I don't, but…" Buffy placed her cool finger against his lips. "Shh… Just let me take care of you, baby." The situation made him uneasy, but Spike was too weak to fight it. He let Buffy undress him, though when her hands came up to grip his flaccid cock, he sighed. "There's no use trying, pet. I can't feel a bloody thing from the waist down thanks to your little organ-dropping stunt." Buffy pouted, a look that certainly would've brought life to his cock had it been a possibility. "Bad, bad Buffy," she tsked, shaking her head. "When you've gotten your strength back, you'll have to punish me." Spike's only response was a cocked eyebrow. "In the meantime, though, you need to feed." Buffy pushed her hair away from her neck and leaned in, her flesh now against Spike's mouth. "Here. I fed enough for both of us tonight." Spike jerked his head to the side. "No." Buffy sat back up, frowning. "What? Why? Come on, Spike. You know you always wanted to bite me…" She was right there, of course, but now wasn't like before. Something was very off here, and more than just the fact the Slayer was now a vampire. The chit was up to something, and it made Spike too nervous to ask what. Buffy wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Spike, you need to feed, and my blood will help you. It could still be Slayer blood—wouldn't that make you heal faster?" He regarded her for a moment, his head cocked to the side. He wanted what she was offering—but could he take it? Buffy didn't leave the decision up to him. She grabbed him by the back of the head, ignoring his snarl as she forced his mouth to her neck. "Drink me, Spike. Come on, baby—you know you wanna." Spike snarled again against her dead flesh, his mouth refusing to open. Buffy straddled his limp lower body, grinding herself against him with a low moan. "Please, Spike… I need your fangs." He tried to fight her, tried to resist being forced to do something he didn't want to do, but she was working herself hard against him, her pussy growing wet and the scent of her arousal assailing him. It was the sweetest scent he'd ever known, doing things to him even though his cock couldn't as much as twitch. Yet his fangs did break through her skin, and he snarled as he feasted hungrily, her borrowed blood still holding a trace of warmth. Buffy gasped and writhed, her body writhing in pleasure until Spike finally pulled away with a growl. Buffy smiled at him, her unneeded breath coming in harsh pants. She leaned in and licked the excess blood from his mouth before meeting his lips in a strangely gentle kiss. "I have to go back," she told Spike as she climbed off his body and tucked a sheet around him. "I can't risk Angelus getting upset with me now. But things will be different with me here, Spike. I'm going to take care of you." Spike knew Angelus wouldn't like that, and that it could very easily lead to the older vampire simply offing him in his weakened state. "Buffy, you don't have to." "I want to," Buffy insisted. "Pet, you…" He reached out and gripped her hand, then froze immediately as he did, remembering the last time he had held her hand in his. Buffy must've too, because a look of something akin to horror crossed over her face, and she jerked away from him suddenly. Spike couldn't protest her help anymore. Despite the fact that the demon she was now was sure to be able to handle what she'd suffered at Angelus's hands better than the girl ever could have, it was clear some part of it still haunted her. If it helped her to help him, then he couldn't bring himself to deny it to her. "Thank you, Buffy." She met his eyes slowly, blinking as she did. Had he ever called her by her name before? She couldn't remember… "You're welcome," she replied, her whisper barely audible even to his ears before she slipped out of the room to return to her sire's bed. *** *** *** Angelus's first suggestion of how Buffy could make her mark as a vampire had been to kill her mother, but something inside of her had balked at the suggestion. She didn't particularly feel the need to see the woman again, but at the same time, killing her didn't seem right. It was something she didn't want to think about too hard. That didn't, however, mean she wanted to leave everyone she'd known in her human life unharmed. She stood outside of Xander's door, her arms wrapped around herself as she did her best to look completely terrified. By the time he finally peeked his head out, she'd worked up to tears. "Buffy!" he exclaimed in shock and elation. "Oh god, Buffy, we all thought you were dead!" "Xander, please, you have to let me in," Buffy begged, glancing behind her in well-acted panic. "I just got away, and I think Angelus is following me. Please…I can't go back there, after… Oh, god, Xander, the things he did to me!" Xander glanced out quickly, searching for Angelus himself. "Yeah, come on in. I'll make sure he can't get you." Suddenly, Buffy's fearful expression changed to a sly smile as she stepped over the threshold. "Really, Xander, you're too kind." In that instant, Xander knew something was wrong, but his brain couldn't seem to process what it was. Then, he saw Buffy's beautiful features shift, revealing what she was now, and he screamed. "Shh…I'll do it quick," Buffy told him. "Besides, haven't you always wanted my mouth on you?" "Not like this," Xander replied, shaking in fear. He glanced around the room, desperately searching for some sort of weapon, yet coming up empty. Buffy grabbed Xander with preternatural speed and slammed him against the wall. "Gotta take what you can get," she told him with a shrug before her fangs tore into his neck. After Xander's lifeless body hit the ground, Buffy stepped back out of the house, licking her lips. Angelus waited for her outside, a wide grin on his face. "How'd he taste, baby?" he asked, his arm going around her waist. "Delicious," Buffy replied as she nuzzled against his side. She looked up. "I want another one." Angelus chuckled with delight, proud of his childe. "Lead the way then." *** *** *** Thank you for all the support you guys gave me for the last chapter. I am a little nervous about this one since it's so different from most of my stuff, so it was good to see I had so many people on board!

Chapter #3 - Chapter Three

Willow couldn't sleep. In truth, she hadn't been able to sleep for days, not since Buffy had disappeared. There wasn't any real question about what had happened to her, not with Angelus on the loose. It tore Willow up inside to think of Buffy at the hands of that monster, and what he must've already done to her while they'd been unable to track him down. The old factory was in ruins, destroyed in Giles's attempt to get revenge for the death of his beloved Jenny Calendar. Willow had no doubt Angelus had escaped the blaze, and had since taken Buffy, but there hadn't been any sign of either of them. Buffy—her best friend—was gone. Willow couldn't help but feel that she had somehow failed her. A strange noise outside of her room made Willow bolt upright in the bed, and she reached under her pillow to grab the large wooden cross she kept under there just in case. She feared the day she had to try to explain to Ira and Sheila Rosenberg why their only daughter slept with a cross, but with everything that was going on, she felt safer with it. Another noise, this time a definite knock at the French doors across from her. Tentatively, she crept from the bed and to the doors, gasping as she pulled the curtains back and saw a terrified Buffy standing outside. Immediately, she dropped the cross to the floor and opened the door. "Buffy! You're alive! I thought for sure Angelus had killed you!" Willow exclaimed, tears in her eyes. Buffy shook her head, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. "He…he wanted to break me first. Oh, Wills, the things he did to me!" Buffy glanced over her shoulder, as if in panic. "I snuck out the first chance I could, but I think he's following me. You have to let me in, Willow. Please." Willow opened her mouth, the words almost coming. But then, she froze. Something was…off. She was still standing inside of her room, yet the door was wide open. If Angelus was chasing her, why hadn't Buffy already run inside? She didn't want to give into the nagging worry in the pit of her stomach, but Willow knew she had to at least entertain the thought. If she was wrong—and god did she wish she was—then Buffy would understand. If she wasn't… Well, she didn't want to think about that because she had to be wrong. Willow took a few steps back into the house. "Um, just a moment, Buffy." "Willow, please, hurry! He could be here any second!" As quickly as she could, Willow snatched the large cross back off the ground and brandished it at Buffy. Horror filled her as she got the response she'd dreaded. Buffy hissed, her face shifting to its demon form as she stumbled backwards, away from the cross. "Bitch," she snarled at Willow. The sight of her friend as a vampire was almost more than Willow could take, and she closed her door shut before stumbling back to the room. She fell to the ground, clutching the cross to her chest as she began to sob, rocking back and forth on the floor. All hope was lost now. Buffy was dead… *** *** *** "She wouldn't let me in," Buffy said with a pout, kicking a small rock at her foot. "Stupid Willow." "There, there, Buffy," Angelus said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "How about we burn the house down? Would that make you feel better?" Buffy shook her head, her pout firmly in place. "No. I wanted to eat." "Baby, you've already had Xander and that homeless guy. Just because you're undead doesn't mean you can't get fat." "But I want to eat someone else. I got my fangs all in the mood for high school girl, and then she wouldn't invite me in." Buffy turned her gaze up to Angelus and batted her eyelashes. "Take me to the Bronze?" Angelus sighed. "Fine. But only because I'm in the mood for that, too." Buffy squealed in delight, bouncing slightly. "Yay! Let's go now." She tugged on his arm until he started walking. A grin spread across her face as she realized how easy it was to manipulate her sire. Just a little more blood, and she'd have enough to take home to Spike… *** *** *** Spike woke to the feel of Buffy lapping at his neck. He moaned, his arm coming up instinctively to wrap around her waist. "I brought you dinner," Buffy told him as she nipped gently at his jugular with blunt teeth. He didn't hesitate this time as Buffy pulled him up to a sitting position and directed his fangs to her neck. Already, the blood she'd given him the night before was having an effect, and he'd been able to maneuver himself from the wheelchair to the bed, albeit with some struggle. Buffy moaned and bucked in his lap, and for the first time in what had seemed like an eternity to Spike, his cock twitched. He groaned in pleasure as he continued to drink, her borrowed blood filling him with new strength. When he'd taken enough for the night, Spike pulled away and lapped at Buffy's neck. "Fuck, you taste sweet, pet," he murmured against her skin. Buffy giggled. "I bet you do, too." He smirked. "Well, I've never had any complaints, but doesn't it defeat the purpose of feeding me if you go and take it right back?" "I didn't mean that," Buffy replied, shaking her head. She slid down so she was kneeling between his legs, her hands at the buttons of his jeans. "I meant this…" Spike groaned as she opened his fly and pulled his cock out into her hands. "Buffy…Angelus wouldn't…" "I don't care about Angelus," she said, the name of her sire tinged with disgust, before her tongue darted out and licked the head of his cock. "You should, pet," Spike said, even as he thrust his hips up as best he could. "You're just a fledge, and I'm in no position to protect you." "Would you, if you could?" Her question helped clear the lust-fog from his mind. "Would I what, Buffy?" "Protect me," she clarified, her eyes wide, alluring. "From Angelus…" Before Spike could answer, she lapped at his cock again, this time adding a quick bite to the tip. Spike moaned in pleasure. "Fuck, pet…yeah…" "So you'd protect me from him if I needed you to?" she asked again, then licked the shaft. "Yes. Anything…anything you needed…" Spike said, the pleasure of her mouth on him intense after being denied sexual stimulation for so long. "Looks like little Spikey's got his strength back," Buffy teased with another lick. Spike looked down at her, one eyebrow arched. "Not so little, Slayer." Buffy giggled. "Nope. Not little at all. Wonder how much I can fit in my mouth." She slid down, her eyes widening as she realized the answer to that question. She pulled back up, grinning. "Okay, I'm totally loving this no breathing thing." Spike grabbed the back of her head and pushed her back down. "Yeah, me, too. Now stop talking and suck it." Buffy met his eyes as she rolled hers, but she didn't pull up. Instead, she sucked him with everything she had, keeping his long shaft fully down her throat as she swallowed around him. "Oh fuck, yeah," Spike moaned, shivering as he felt Buffy's teeth clamp down near the base of his cock. He fisted his hands in her long, blonde hair and began moving her head up and down, fucking her mouth. In life, Buffy didn't think she ever could've enjoyed something like this—even if it wasn't with Spike. But now, in this time, in this place, she was loving it. All she had to do was move her tongue a bit, and Spike was completely and totally hers. It really put the world in perspective. "That's it, Slayer. Swallow my cock," Spike sneered, his hands tightening in her hair. "Swallow it all." Buffy happily complied. When Spike came in her mouth, it was hard and fast, but she swallowed every drop, determined to see it through to the end. Finally, Spike slumped back, spent. Buffy climbed up his body, feeling the vibrations of a low purr in his chest. "Just as tasty as I thought," she told him with a lap to his neck. Spike couldn't do much more than pant, his body still trembling from his orgasm. This was the woman Angelus had added to his bed? He hated the wanker even more… "I really, really don't want to leave you," Buffy said, pouting as she sat up. "But I don't want Angelus to get all cranky. He says I have to sleep in there with him 'cause I'm his. But can I tell you a secret?" "What's that, pet?" Buffy leaned down, her lips against his ear as she whispered, "I don't want to be his. I want to be yours." Then, she was up and gone, leaving Spike gaping. *** *** *** Angelus was waiting for her when Buffy came back to his room. He sat up in the massive four-poster bed, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Drusilla slept beside him, oblivious to what went on around her. "And where have you been?" Angelus asked, his eyebrow cocked. Buffy met his eyes defiantly. "Playing with Spike," she answered. In a blink, Angelus was up, his hand wound tightly in her hair. "Did I say you could play with Spike?" "It was just a little bit," Buffy said, giving Angelus her best wide eyes. "I can make it up to you." "You better," Angelus said with a growl. He threw her to the ground. "On all fours, bitch." Buffy did as he said, her eyes rolling as soon as Angelus was behind her. She hoped Spike regained his strength soon. *** *** *** Willow hadn't moved from her spot on the floor by the time the sun began to rise. She's stopped crying, stopped rocking, hours ago—now she was simply staring at the wall. The possibility of Buffy dying had always been in her mind—especially after what had happened with the Master—but Willow had still managed to hold on to the thought that Buffy was somehow invincible. The blonde Slayer had been though so much; she'd even managed to cheat death. So how could this have happened? Willow couldn't help but wonder if this was all her fault. Buffy had gone out on patrol alone the night she'd been captured. Would it have made a difference if Willow had just forgotten about doing one last study session for a test she was already more than prepared for and insisted she go with Buffy, or would she be dead now, too? Had she let Buffy down by not being able to find her after she'd disappeared? Had she not searched hard enough, too afraid of what she might have to face to give her friend the help she needed? She supposed it didn't really matter now. Buffy was gone. She was like Jesse had been, just a demon who had taken over the body of her friend. The part of her who had really been Buffy—her soul—had left the moment she'd died. Giles had driven that fact about vampires home so many times now, Willow knew it was as good as gospel. Giles… As much as she was loathed to do it, Willow knew she had to get up now. She needed to go to school so she could give him the news. She shivered at the thought, not knowing how she was going to break it to the Watcher. Willow knew he'd loved Buffy as if she were his own daughter, and now this so close to Jenny's death… It would be enough to possibly break him, she knew. Still, it had to be done. With resolve she hadn't known she possessed, Willow pulled herself to her feet, determined that she could face this day. And whatever came after it… *** *** *** A lot of people have been saying they're confused because they don't know what Buffy's up to with Angelus. You're not confused—you've only read a couple of chapters. I haven't given you all the details yet on purpose. It wouldn't be much of a story if I just told you everything that was going to happen right off the bat. Just sit tight, and you'll see where I'm going with this soon enough. As for Buffy being evil—yes, she is. No, she does NOT have a soul. If you can't handle an evil Buffy, this isn't the fic for you. There's so many stories where she retains her soul when she's turned, and I wanted to do something different in this one. So, evil soulless Buffy here. If you don't like that, then you can stop reading. I won't be offended—I know people have things they like and things they don't, and I'm okay with that. What I do ask is that if you have issues with evil Buffy, but you continue to read anyway, that you don't complain about her evilness. This is what the story is, and I've been very upfront about it being dark and angsty.

Chapter #4 - Chapter Four

Giles knew the moment Willow came into the library something was wrong. The red rims around her eyes gave away that she'd been crying, but her face… She was stricken. He braced himself on the counter, waiting for the worst. For her part, Willow had rehearsed in her head over and over again what she was going to say to break the news to Giles. She needed to ease him into it, maybe tell him to sit down like they always did in the movies. But when the time came, all she could do was blurt out, her voice cracking from her tears, "Buffy's dead!" Giles had somehow known she was going to say that, even if his heart hadn't wanted to believe it—still didn't want to believe it. "Are…are you sure? Willow, what happened?" "I saw her last night," Willow said. She paused, a sob bursting forth. "Giles, she's a vampire!" It was even worse than he thought, and Giles stumbled, barely managing to grab on to the counter with his other hand and use both to pull himself back up. "No…please, no…" "She…she came to my house," Willow continued. "She tried to get me to invite her in, but something felt wrong, and I held up a cross. And then she…I saw her face, Giles." The redhead stopped for a moment and shuttered. "She ran off then." "I can't…" Giles shook his head, removing his glasses so he could wipe away his tears. "I failed her." Willow opened her mouth to respond, to try to assure Giles it wasn't his fault at all, but before she had a chance. Cordelia burst through the library doors. "Xander's dead!" Willow and Giles both whipped around to look at Cordelia, identical looks of shock meeting the sobbing brunette. "What did you say?" Willow asked, her brain unable to process the news that she'd lost her two dearest friends in only a day. "Xander's dead. I…" Cordelia stopped, her usual in-control demeanor completely gone. "I went by his house to drive him to school, and there were cops everywhere. They wouldn't tell me much, but when I explained I was his girlfriend, they did tell me his mother had found him dead this morning." Willow sank to the ground, her head buried in her hands. "This is all my fault." "No, Willow, it isn't," Giles insisted. "It is! It was Buffy who killed him, Giles, I know it. It just…it has to be. He must've invited her in! But he wouldn't have if I'd just warned him!" Cordelia took a step back. "Wait…what's going on here? Did we find Buffy?" Willow looked up at the cheerleader. "Buffy's a vampire. She…she tried to get into my house last night. She must've gotten Xander." She looked away, her head hanging. "Only she wouldn't have it I had had the sense to warn him instead of just sitting on the floor all night like an incompetent idiot." Giles took a tentative step forward and put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "You cannot blame yourself for this. For one thing, you have no idea if Buffy even did this—or if she did, if Xander wasn't already dead before she came to your home." Willow shook her head, her body drawing in on itself. Her world was crashing down around her, and the only person she felt she could blame was herself. *** *** *** Buffy was bored. She looked over at Angelus and Drusilla. Painfully bored. It hadn't taken her long to decide she didn't like hunting with Dru. The other female was petulant and fickle, and the entire night had revolved around her from the beginning. Buffy knew she, too, was manipulating Angelus with batting eyelashes and a strategic pout, but honestly… Drusilla just kept pushing the envelope. And if she called Angelus "Daddy" one more time, Buffy might very well put herself out of her misery and just stake herself. "Daddy, can we go find some nice little children to play with? I love the way they giggle in my tummy." Okay, that was officially it. Buffy decided she'd find someone else to eat on her own. "Why don't you two do that. I'm heading back to the mansion," Buffy announced. "On your own?" Angelus asked quickly. "Are you…" "I'm done for the night." She smiled sweetly at her sire. "You really wore me out." Angelus puffed up his chest with pride. "Did I now?" "Yup. So it's quitting time for me. You two go, slaughter an orphanage or whatever." "You're still a fledgling, Buff," Angelus pointed out. "Are you sure you can…" "Daddy, I want to play now," Drusilla said angrily, stomping her foot. "Let the dolly go on her own, I don't care." "I'll be fine. Besides, I think Dru wants some alone time with 'Daddy.'" Buffy winked before turning around and disappearing off into the shadows, grateful when she heard Angelus and Drusilla walk off in the other direction. She wasn't sure how much more she could take of the two of them. At least Spike was sane. Relatively speaking, anyway. Buffy turned onto Crawford Street, keeping her eyes open for potential prey, when she spotted a girl probably around her own age on the corner, her eyes wide as she trembled. She looked up towards the mansion, realizing how close the girl was, and a plan formed in her head. It looked like Spike would be getting a hot meal tonight… "Are you lost?" Buffy asked the girl. Her demon face was long gone, and she looked every bit the part of the high school student she used to be. The girl turned, startled, but immediately relaxed when she saw Buffy. After all, she'd been conditioned not to talk to threatening strangers—not small, blonde teenaged girls. "Yeah, I think I am. I'm new to Sunnydale, and I got all turned around. I was trying to find these friends I was supposed to meet, but now…" She shrugged sheepishly. "I have no idea where I am." "My house is just up the street," Buffy said with a perky smile. "Do you want to come in and use my phone?" "Would you let me?" the girl asked. "I'd be so grateful." "Sure. Wouldn't be a problem at all," Buffy replied, trying to keep herself from dancing at the ease of this. "Follow me." Without any protest, the girl followed Buffy, not a thought in her mind that she may be being led to her death. "The phone's right in here," Buffy said as they walked into the mansion. "I can't see anything," the girl protested, trying to squint in the dark. "Sorry. The light burnt out right before I left, and these high ceilings are a bitch to deal with. But the phone's right in here. Come on." She placed her hand on the girl's arm and led her into another room. It took a moment for the girl's eyes to adjust from the darkness to the dim candle light, but when they did, she gasped. She was in a bedroom now, a man dressed all in black reclining in the bed. The man grinned, and the girl's earlier ease was gone. Whoever this man was, one look from him could fill her with sheer terror. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Did you bring me delivery, pet?" "Yup, sure did," Buffy replied, obviously very pleased with herself. "I thought you'd like something fresh." Panicked, the girl turned, only to scream when she saw Buffy, the blonde's vampire face now in place. She stumbled and turned again, only to see Spike's face had changed as well. Buffy grabbed the girl and shoved her onto the bed, forcing her in Spike's lap. The girl struggled, but she was no match for the vampire's strength, and soon, Spike's fangs were embedded in her neck. Buffy watched Spike feeding, the sight making her tremble in desire. While she'd found him attractive before—even if she wouldn't have admitted it—knowing what he was kept her just repulsed enough to never dwell on his looks. But now… He was a vicious, bloodthirsty killer… And it really turned her on. When the girl was drained, Spike pulled up, his tongue coming out to lick the excess blood off of his face. Buffy grabbed the limp body and threw it to the other side of the bed before she jumped into Spike's lap, straddling him as she grabbed his mouth and kissed him, moaning at the taste of both him and fresh human blood. "Fuck me, Spike," she begged, writhing in his lap. "I want you…" "Where's Angelus?" Spike asked, Buffy's kisses making him pant. "He and Dru are still out. We're alone." That was all Spike needed to know. With a snarl, he flipped them over, relishing Buffy's squeal of delight at his actions. He wanted her—had since the moment he'd seen her really—and he wasn't going to pass up his chance at her now. The Slayer was a hot little thing, even if that was more figurative than literal now, and with warm blood in his veins and Dru's bed denied to him for so long, he wanted nothing more than a good, hard fuck. There was no caress, no foreplay as Spike pushed Buffy's skirt up past her hips, snapped open his fly, and thrust into her body. She cried out in delight, her legs wrapping around him to hold on as he set a fast, punishing rhythm. Buffy's eyes rolled back in her head, a fang-filled smile on her face. Angel had never been able to give it to her like this—with or without the soul. Spike was so long, so thick, and he filled her until she thought she would burst. As her orgasm approached, his thrusts only grew in strength, making Buffy scream. She reached out blindly, searching for something to hold on to and finding the dead girl, frail human bones crushing beneath her superior strength. The second he felt her muscles fluttering around him, Spike let himself go as well, shouting out in heartfelt release. He collapsed on top of her, but Buffy didn't push him off. Instead, she held him closer, letting him bury his face against her neck. That had been… Well, to say he'd rocked her world certainly wouldn't have been an overstatement. Still, her real joy lay in how much Spike seemed to have enjoyed it. She wanted him to desire her—to desire her enough to want more. Buffy sighed. "I wish it could be like this always. I'm so much happier when I'm with you." Spike looked up, his head cocked to the side. "You don't like Angelus?" Buffy shook her head, pouting prettily. "No. He doesn't know how to really please me." She stroked his cheek. "Not like you, Spike." Spike had to admit, were he a lesser man, he'd be putty in her dainty little hands right now. However, he was smart enough to know when he was being played—even if his cock was screaming at him to just go along with it if it meant more sex like what they'd just had. He pulled up, refastening his jeans before he knocked the dead girl to the floor and took over the spot where she'd been. "All right, Buffy. Just tell me straight—what game are you playing?" Buffy blinked and straightened out her skirt. "Game?" she asked. "You want something out of me, and you're playing me off Angelus to get it. So cut the crap and give it to me straight." Buffy was silent for a moment as she decided what to do. She'd picked Spike out at the very beginning as her only possible ally, and she hoped she hadn't been miscalculating. Finally, she spoke, giving him the blunt answer he wanted. "I want to kill him." Spike's eyebrow arched up, Buffy's response not entirely what he'd expected. "You want to… I thought you were all in love with him an' whatnot." "I hate him," Buffy replied with a snarl. "I remember my last days as a human, Spike. I remember every sick thing he did to me, just to hurt me. And this…what I am now—he did that to hurt me, too." She paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Granted, I don't know what I was so afraid of when I was alive, 'cause this whole being a vampire thing is wicked cool, but Angelus knew when he was doing it to me that he was going to be forcing me into my worst nightmare. He wanted to break me. But he didn't—and now I want my revenge." Spike looked at her for a moment, processing her little speech. It wasn't common for a fledglings to be so vehement about killing their sires, no matter what the circumstances behind their turning was. Maybe it was a bit of the Slayer left in her, Spike didn't know. "So you want me to kill him for you?" Spike asked. Buffy shook her head. "No. When I find my chance, I'm killing him myself. But I…" She stopped and looked down, almost afraid to admit the whole truth, but knowing she had no choice but to lay her cards out on the table if she wanted to get what she needed from him. "This world is all new to me, Spike. I don't want to be alone in it." Spike searched her voice for any sign of guile this time, but found none. He knew what she was feeling, remembered the early days of his vampirehood and the uneasiness that came with finding everything suddenly different. On the one hand, it was all amazing, but on the other, it was overwhelming. "You just want my promise I won't abandon you then?" Buffy nodded. "And…and I want you to be like my sire. I want you to teach me what I'm supposed to do." "You want me to be like your sire when you off your actual one?" Spike asked, wanting to clarify for himself that she really was making such an unusual request. "Yes." He took a moment, mulling over her request. Offing Angelus certainly didn't rank high on his list of things that he least wanted to see happen, but it could still cause ripples in his little macabre family. Big ones. "You're going to do this, regardless of my response, aren't you?" he asked. "I am. And honestly, if you get in my way, I'll dust you, too." Spike gave her a quick nod, appreciating her truthful answer. "I wouldn't mind the wanker gone either, but the fact remains, Dru's quite fond of him. He dusts, she's not going to be happy." Buffy rolled her eyes. "So you're what, going to let him live because you're psychotic ho of a girlfriend wants him to keep banging her?" In an instant, Spike's relaxed demeanor was gone, and he rolled over, pinning Buffy down to the bed with bruising force. "Don't you ever talk about Drusilla that way, you hear me, girl? You're nothing to me compared to her." Buffy nodded, even as she struggled under him. "Yeah, okay. Get off me." Spike squeezed her wrists, making her wince, but rolled off again. "I never said I didn't want him gone because of her—I just said she wasn't going to be happy. She's going to make quite a fuss. What I need from you is a promise you'll let me handle her and not harm her in any way. I won't lose Dru." Buffy really didn't like that amendment to her plan. She'd sort of been hoping Drusilla could meet the pointy end of a stake, too. But she supposed she could put up with her as long as Angelus was gone—and as long as Spike still paid attention to her. And hell, maybe Buffy could eventually convince him she was the better woman anyway, and he'd ditch his loony hobag sire. "Deal," Buffy replied. "Only Angelus fits in a Dust Buster." "Then you've got my support." Buffy smiled brightly and leaned in to seal the deal with a kiss before she rose from the bed. "I'm going to clean up before Angelus gets home. You should, too. He won't be happy if he smells us on each other, and I so don't feel like having to spend another night pretending to be terrified. Hello, vampire here—like I'm going to tremble at the prospect of whips and chains." Spike allowed himself a blissful moment to indulge in the image that brought to mind before he shook his head. "Right, clean up. And we should probably take out the garbage, too," he added, nodding his head back towards the corpse. "Yeah, that. I'll come back for it soon." She gave Spike a quick wink before leaving the room. *** *** *** Please review!

Chapter #5 - Chapter Five

Spike could tell as he began to wake that sunset was still hours away—so why wasn't he still asleep? Granted, he still had the first real meal he'd had in weeks humming in his veins, but with his body still healing, he shouldn't have been doing anything but sleeping deeply now. Then, he noticed something else that hadn't happened in weeks. Drusilla was in his bed. She was licking and sucking his neck, her fingernails scraping down his bare chest and leaving trails of blood in their wake. "Dru?" He frowned, finding her touch wasn't affecting him the way it normally did. If anything, he was angry with her. She was his sire, the woman who was supposed to love him, and yet she'd left him to suffer, broken and discarded. Granted, Spike knew Dru couldn't be trusted to take care of a goldfish, never mind him, but at the same time, her treatment of him once Angelus had re-entered the picture had cut him deeply. After over a century of him catering to her every whims, followed by his dedication to her after the run-in with the mob in Prague, it hurt to know she wouldn't reciprocate—and would instead, ignore him in favor of another male. She'd never once brought him a girl to feed on the way Buffy had for him the night before. Instead, she'd insulted him with mangy little dogs that weren't even fit for a snack. Part of him said he was only being petulant, and he should simply revel in having her back, grateful to be again worthy of the touch of his dark goddess. But he couldn't seem to make that part of him be the dominating force. For one thing, Drusilla still reeked of her sire… In the past, before the onset of "Angel," Spike had been able to deal with having to share Drusilla. He didn't like it, but he'd understood his place in the hierarchy of their group, and he'd accepted it. However, things were different now. He'd killed two Slayers—the proper way, at that—and earned himself the rank of Master in his own right. He didn't care who had sired whom; he was not beneath Angelus. Not anymore, and not ever again. "Dru, don't," he said, pushing her away. Drusilla sat up, stunned. Never had Spike rejected her. She pouted, making a soft, whimpering sound. "My Spike, why are you doing this? Don't you want to play with Mummy?" "No, I don't," Spike snapped, surprised at how much like truth the words felt. Drusilla regarded him for a moment, her head slightly cocked, before a fire began to blaze in her eyes. "It's her! You let her into your bed! You're mine, mine! The bad dolly can't play!" She launched herself at Spike, screaming as she clawed and bit at his flesh. Spike grabbed her arms and threw her from the bed, his arms coming up to block Drusilla's attacks. Still, she didn't stop, his unwillingness to take her blows seeming to only enrage her more. "You were mine, only mine!" Drusilla screamed over and over until finally, Spike snapped and his passive defense shifted. He rose from the bed and grabbed Drusilla roughly, slamming her against the wall. "Is that what this is then? I'm yours, but you're never going to be mine? Is that how this works?" "I made you for me!" Drusilla screamed. "You made me to be your toy!" Spike yelled back, though as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stared at her in shock. They were true—he'd always known, in some way that they were true—yet finally speaking them aloud made the truth too real. He let Drusilla go and dropped her to the ground. "I can't do this. I can't…" Drusilla slid to the floor, tears in her eyes. "Just leave her alone, Spike. You're for me—be for me." Spike turned and looked at her, holding her gaze for a moment. He wanted to be just for Drusilla. He always had. She was his dark princess, and he wanted to be her knight. But after what he'd felt with Buffy the night before, he knew he couldn't make the promise to never touch her again. He wouldn't be able to control himself. "Drusilla, I'm sorry, I can't give you that anymore." "I hate you!" Drusilla screamed, making him flinch even before she leapt from the ground and attacked him again. Spike tried to wrestle her away, to keep her hands back as she attempted to claw his face. Entangled, they stumbled backwards, crashing through the bedroom door. "What the hell is going on out here?" Angelus raged as he stormed out of his own room and over to Drusilla and Spike. He grabbed Spike and threw him off of Drusilla, who immediately began to cower and whimper. "He…he tried to hurt me, Daddy," she said, pulling her body inwards. Angelus turned to Spike, a sneer on his face. "Have you gone and forgotten your place, Willie boy?" Spike rose to his feet, hoping his legs were strong enough now not to give out on him. He wiped blood from his face and met Angelus's eyes. "Sod off." Angelus arched his eyebrow. "So you have forgotten then." He leaned down and picked up one of the splintered pieces of wood from the broken door. "Maybe I should remind you then." Almost as soon as Angelus moved, he was tackled down to the ground, and it took Spike a moment to register the tiny blonde who had done it. "Stay away from him!" Buffy snarled, smacking Angelus hard across his face with the back of her hand. Angelus blinked, stunned, but only for a moment. "You little bitch!" he snarled at Buffy. "You don't challenge me like this." Buffy knew she may be playing her hand too soon, but she was already tired of going along with Angelus. Never in her existence had she been filled with more hatred for someone, and she couldn't stand it anymore. She raised her head, her eyes defiant. "I can and I will." Angelus reached out and grabbed Buffy, jerking her up hard as he got to his feet, then tossed her across the room. She hit the wall with a grunt. He tsked. "You really shouldn't have done that, Buff. Now I'm going to have to punish you," he said, his tone mocking. Buffy pulled herself back up, her features shifting to demonic. "You'll never touch me again." Spike watched, seemingly frozen in place as the two vampires squared off. He'd known Buffy was going to attempt to challenge Angelus at some point, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. The night before she'd seemed like she was going to bide her time until she knew she had the definite advantage. This was not such a moment. However, she'd have decidedly less of a chance of success if Drusilla jumped into the fray, and Spike could tell that was exactly what his sire was about to do. Dru moved to strike, but before she could, Spike was up. He grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides. Drusilla let out a shriek as soon as Spike grabbed her, and Angelus turned quickly, the sound distracting him. Buffy seized the moment. With all of her strength, she pushed Angelus backwards, sending him flying right through a large window. The curtains tumbled to the ground and he fell backwards through the glass, screaming as the sun's rays hit his flesh. Buffy rolled backwards, panting as she now ducked in the shadows. Spike rolled as soon as he realized what Buffy was about to do, trying to bring both himself and Drusilla out of the light. However, the move loosened his hold on her, and Drusilla jumped up, only to be hit by the sun now flooding the once-dark room. She held up her arms and screamed, forcing Spike to watch helplessly as she exploded into flames, then dust. The room grew suddenly still, the only sounds those of the birds chirping too-cheerily outside the window. Spike cowered in the shadows, unable to stop tears from forming in his eyes as he stared at what was left of his maker. Buffy stood, her legs shaky, and watched him. The patch of sunlight dividing the room kept her from him, and while part of her told her that may be for the best since he could certainly hold her accountable for the death of his sire, another part of her wanted to go to him, wanted to try to take away some of his pain. Instead, however, she slipped back into the bedroom, wanting to escape back into the dark. *** *** *** Spike sat, huddled and alone, waiting for the sun to set and allow him to move without fear of burning. A part of him felt empty, hollow. Drusilla had been more than his lover, more than the woman who owned his heart. She'd been his sire—his salvation. What was he without her? As soon as the sun was gone, Spike crawled over to the pile of Drusilla's ashes, his tears spilling into them. "Why did you do that, baby?" he whispered, a lump in his throat. "We were happy without him before; we would've been happy without him again." Still, as heartbroken as he was, a part of him remained angry. Drusilla had abandoned him, left him crippled and starving so she could play with her precious "Daddy." Then, she'd left him alone for good by being foolish enough to let this happen. But he didn't want to be angry with Dru, not when all he had left her was a dampened pile of dust. He raised his head, his eyes flashing with gold as he looked towards the master bedroom. It was her…all her fault… With a snarl, Spike jumped to his feet and stormed into the room, snatching Buffy roughly up by the arm when he found her on the bed. "You stupid bitch!" he roared, shaking her. "This is all your fault! All of this is your bloody fault! You've been ruining my life since the moment I stepped into Sunnydale, and now you've gone and taken Dru away, too!" "Spike, I didn't mean to," Buffy said, genuine fear in her eyes for the first time since she'd turned. She had now doubt that Spike was fully capable of hurting her, especially in this state. "I didn't even think when I pushed Angelus, I just acted. I remembered our deal, and I didn't break it on purpose." Spike's only response was another roar as he refused to let Buffy's words soften his anger. Rationally, he knew she was telling the truth, but the moment was not one for reason. He tossed her to the ground, her body hitting the floor with a satisfying thud. "I'm going to make you suffer," he told her, his eyes and voice cruel. "I'll make you hurt for what you did to her." Buffy didn't move from her spot on the floor, nor did she protest against Spike's words. If he needed to mark her flesh to compensate for the death of his sire, then she would allow him that. After all, she had told him with Angelus gone, he could step into the older vampire's place. She hoped if he could get what he needed from her in retribution for Drusilla, then he would still stay with her. She didn't want to be alone… She'd expected him to beat her. Angelus had left behind chains as well as a variety of torture devices, any one of them Buffy was sure Spike would know how to use. Instead, however, he snatched her back up and threw her on the bed. He had been clad only in his jeans, and he shucked those quickly before he pounced on her, shredding her clothes with his hands. When he thrust into her, Buffy tried to reach up and touch him, but Spike snarled and backhanded her. She dropped her arms to the side, catching on to what he needed. He fucked her ruthlessly, his demon in full control. For hours, he moved over her, releasing only to harden again and start anew. Through it all, Buffy stayed in place, willingly offering him whatever it was he needed to take from her body. Finally, he came one last time, the sound he made as he did like a whimper, before he rolled over and collapsed at her side. Buffy lay silently in the darkness and listened to him weep. *** *** *** Please review.

Chapter #6 - Chapter Six

Come nightfall of the following day, Spike still hadn't left the bed. His eyes remained open, yet when Buffy spoke to him, he showed no type of response. She knew he was hurting. Even with as much as she'd hated Angelus for what he'd done to her human self, a part of her still ached with the loss of her sire. If she could hurt even this much, then the pain for Spike must've been unbearable. She wondered if a vampire could dust from force of will alone. If nothing else, he showed no interest in feeding. How long could a vampire last without blood? It was a question she didn't know the answer to, and she may never know if Spike wasted away and left her alone. The thought of losing Spike now terrified her. As odd as it seemed to the part of her who was still just Buffy Summers, the demon part of her recognized him as family—and the only family she had left. If he were gone, too, then who could possibly ever fill that void? Buffy dressed herself and left the mansion, noticing with a strange pang in her heart that Spike didn't even seem to care she'd gone. She didn't like him like this. Spike was supposed to be, well, Spike. Without the snark and the swagger, he just wasn't right. She made her way to the Bronze, sure she could find something there to whet Spike's appetite. Perhaps with a nice, firm-breasted meal, he'd start to feel like his old self again. A grin spread across her face as she saw her quarry for the night. As annoying as that little bitch had been, Buffy would enjoy watching Spike make her scream. "Hey, Harmony," Buffy said cheerily, relishing the look of contempt she got in response. It would be one of the last ones Harmony Kendall gave, after all. "Uh, like who died and gave you the right to speak to me?" Harmony replied, rolling her eyes. Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, I know we're not friends or anything, it's just, well, I heard about this really awesome party going on tonight with lots of college boys and free beer, and I thought maybe if I showed up with someone as hot as you, they might actually let someone like me in," Buffy replied, fighting the urge to laugh. Harmony paused, her eyes lighting up at the prospect even as she continued to look at Buffy as if she were dirt. "There's an awesome party tonight?" "Yep. On Crawford Street. I heard some guys from the USC football team are even in town for it. Big stuff." Harmony flipped her hair. "Oh, that. I knew about that, of course. I just didn't think anyone as lame as you could know about that party." She rolled her eyes dramatically, then sighed. "But I guess I could do like, my good deed for the day and let you go with me." "Oh, thank you, Harmony," Buffy replied, glad Harmony was too stupid to recognize fake sincerity. "I'll owe you so much." "Uh huh. Of course you will. Now show me where this party is." Harmony stopped for a moment. "Not that I don't know where it is, I just want to make sure you really do." Buffy fought back a smirk. "All right then. Let's go." *** *** *** "Are you sure there's a party going on here?" Harmony asked as Buffy brought her into the mansion. "It's all dark, and it smells funny." "Oh, there's a party here," Buffy said, smiling as she stood behind Harmony. "Right through this door." Buffy led her into the bedroom, but Harmony stopped when she saw Spike on the bed. "What the hell? Are you trying to like kidnap me to force me into some freaky threesome? Because I only do that if it's boy, boy, girl. With me being the girl of course." "Oh no, Harmony, I didn't lead you in here for a threesome. I led you in here so he could kill you." Harmony sighed in relief. "Oh, that's good… Wait, what?" Buffy chose that moment to shift into her demon face, and Harmony screamed at the top of her lungs. She tried to run, but Buffy moved too quickly, and soon had a hold of her. She brought the screaming, struggling teen over to the bed and dumped her next to Spike, straddling Harmony's waist to hold her down. "Here. It's fresh…I didn't even take a bite, even though I had to listen to her yammer on and on all the way down here. Come on, baby, eat something." Spike stared ahead, not looking at either of the blondes in his bed, and Buffy sighed. "Look, I know you're hurting because of what happened with Dru, and I am sorry for that. Really, I am. But you have to eat. It'll make you feel better. At least a bite?" He still wasn't responding, and Buffy sighed heavily. She needed to get his attention, needed to snap him out of this. She knew he could hear her, but he was just being stubborn… Knowing Harmony would try to run the moment she got up but wanting the girl still alive for Spike, Buffy pulled back and snapped both of Harmony's legs, relishing both the other girl's screams and the sounds the bones made when they broke. Beautiful music to her evil ears. Harmony whimpered and sobbed, flopping like a fish, as Buffy climbed over to Spike and straddled him. She leaned in and nipped at his neck, then licked it with a slow, languid lap. "It'll be okay, baby," she purred in his ear as she began to grind herself against his cock. "You and me—we're gonna fit so good together. You'll see. We could bring this town to its knees, Spike, just the two of us. But you're going to have to snap out of this first." Spike snarled, and Buffy delighted in his first response all day. "That's it, baby. Show me what you are. You're a demon, Spike. Ruthless. There's a screaming, crying girl in your bed. Kill her. I wanna watch you rip her throat out." Spike snarled again, this time pushing up and knocking Buffy back down to the mattress. She squealed in delight as he then turned to Harmony and hauled the girl's broken body to him. "Please don't kill me," Harmony whimpered, flinching away from Spike's demon face. "I'll…I'll do anything." Buffy leaned forward on her haunches, evil glee twinkling in her eyes. "Kill her, Spike. It makes me so hot to watch you feed." Spike trembled at Buffy's words, the tone in which she said them alone enough to drive him wild. His demon took over, pushing away the pain of the man, his world focusing in on two things only—the blood pumping in his prey's veins and the sweet scent of arousal coming off the female vampire nearby. He opened his mouth, ready to rip open Harmony's neck, when Buffy reached out and stopped him. He turned, looking at her quizzically. "No, I don't want you to drink her there. Drink her here." Buffy's hand molded over Harmony's soft breast, then squeezed hard enough to make the girl whimper in pain. She needed him to give into the demon fully, remember what he was. Spike met Buffy's eyes, a slow grin going over his face. God, she was a fucking twisted little thing… He loved it. "Share her with me, pet," Spike said, his voice rough as he got caught up in the moment, in sensation. "You take her here." His hand ghosted over Harmony's inner thigh. Buffy's grin widened, excitement humming in her. A shared look, and Spike and Buffy both ripped at Harmony's clothes, her pleas only making them savor it more. In unison, they sunk their fangs into supple flesh. Buffy looked up from her spot between the girl's thighs, watching with lust as Spike pulled blood from Harmony's full breasts. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever seen, and she knew she wouldn't be able to keep her hands off of him once their prey was dead. Still, they drank slowly, savoring both the taste of Harmony's blood and the sound of her tears. She eventually became too weak to scream, yet her pitiful cries were still enough to please the vampires. When the body beneath them finally stopped its trembling and grew limp, Buffy and Spike pulled up, their yellow, feral eyes locking. Spike grabbed her and threw her facedown over Harmony's waist before he pushed up Buffy's skirt and thrust into her from behind. Buffy was coming in moments, the gruesome version of foreplay they'd engaged in doing more than enough to get her ready. Spike continued to pound into her, snarling fiercely, the action drawing out her orgasm until Buffy was wailing. He leaned down and bit her when he came, his fangs imbedded in her shoulder. It only served to set her off again, and Buffy's eyes rolled up as she jerked and trembled, then finally collapsed, sandwiched between Spike and Harmony's corpse. After a moment, Spike let her up, and Buffy turned to face him. His lips were still covered in blood, and she grabbed his head, pulling him in for a kiss. They licked at each other's mouths, sharing the last bit of their meal, and moaning in pleasure. When they broke apart, Spike met Buffy's eyes, then stroked his hand across her cheek. "Thank you." She looked down, her sudden shyness belying what she really was and what they'd done. "I couldn't lose you. I need you here with me, Spike." Spike cocked his head to the side, regarding her before he asked her the one, all-important question. "Do you need me, or do you just not want to be alone?" Buffy paused, searching a moment for the answer, then feeling a little surprised when she found it. "I…I need you." She knew it could possibly be only because she didn't know any other vampires, but somehow, she didn't think that was the case. Since her first moments in this dark new world, Spike had beckoned to her. Perhaps it was something left over from her final moments alive, when Spike had been willing to reach out to her, to give her that last moment of peace. Whatever it was, she didn't want to analyze it. Agonizing over her every little emotion had been something she'd done when she was human. She was free of that now, free of everything. No more sacred duties, no more always having to be strong for everyone else. Though she doubted it had been his intention, Angelus had done her a favor—he'd released her. And now, in death, she wanted to experience the joy she hadn't been allowed to in life. And she wanted to experience it with Spike. "The night's still young, you know," Buffy said with a slow smile. "I'm sure we could find more mayhem to cause." She looked around. "Besides—I'm getting really sick of this place." Spike nodded slowly, things whirring around inside of his mind that he couldn't quite put words to. "Yeah, me, too." Buffy got off the bed, straightening her skirt before she stretched, working out sore muscles. Spike regarded her, his head cocked to the side. She was so different from Drusilla. Even in death, she was like a ball of fire, and her golden skin had yet to pale from lack of sun. Her blonde hair fell in waves around her face, so different from Dru's dark tresses, and yet no less alluring to Spike. In fact, they were perhaps more so, an observation that surprised him. The loss of his sire still cut, but perhaps if he lost himself in Buffy for a while, he could find a way to go on. She was still a fledging, and therefore, she was still new to the rush of a good kill. If he let her, she was bound to take him on one hell of a ride—and Spike wanted to let her. "I'm going to get dressed," Spike told her as he stood. "Wait for me, pet." "I will," Buffy told him with a nod, letting Spike leave the room. Once alone, she turned back to Harmony, poking at the corpse with one dainty fingernail. Less than an hour ago, she'd be alive, vibrant. She'd been dancing with her friends, enjoying a night out, but Buffy had changed it all. In one swift move, she'd brought the girl to her death. The power that came with that gave her even more of a rush than slaying ever had. It was one thing to kill something that was already dead, but to end an actual life… It was a heady feeling. Like playing God, and she loved it. Buffy looked down into Harmony's lifeless, glassy eyes, a look of horror frozen on her face forever, and giggled. "Something funny, luv?" Buffy turned towards Spike as he came back into the room, a shiver going through her as she saw him back in his leather duster. She'd always liked that coat… "Yeah, that look on her face," Buffy replied. "Come here and check it out." Spike walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist before peering over her at Harmony. He chuckled. "Yeah, that is a good one." Buffy craned her neck up to look at him. "So are you all ready to go? Have everything you need?" "Yeah. Right here," Spike told her, squeezing her waist. Buffy smiled at the response, relieved that Spike didn't seem to be holding her responsible for Drusilla's death anymore. Personally, she thought they'd be better off with out the psycho running around, and hopefully, Spike would come to see that in time, too. They walked out of the room, Spike stopping short when he saw the pile of Drusilla's ashes. Buffy took his hand, gave it a squeeze, and Spike looked at her. He glanced back at the ashes one more time before nodding to Buffy. They left the mansion, still hand in hand. *** *** *** Please review!

Chapter #7 - Chapter Seven

Buffy stopped suddenly, her continued grip on Spike's hand making him stumble. To his surprise, she then began to bounce, her face lighting up. "Spike! I know this house! Xander pointed it out to me once when we were doing a patrol in this neighborhood!" "And what's so great about it, pet?" Spike asked, unable to keep himself from smiling at the sight of her so excited, despite everything else. "It's Principal Snyder's house! He's so mean to me all the time, the little rat-faced bastard. He's the one who made me do that stupid parent-teacher night thing that you crashed." Buffy turned to Spike, her eyes wide and pleading. "Can we kill him? Please?" "Of course, pet. I've got no problem with it. Let's go." Buffy threw her arms around him. "Thanks! You're the best, you know that? I love killing with you the most." Her smile grew. "We should go on some sort of…of spree! We could be like…an undead Bonnie and Clyde!" Even with the events of the day before still weighing on him, Spike couldn't help but find Buffy's joy in her new evil status anything but infectious. Ever since he'd arrived in Sunnydale, it seemed as if all the fun had been sucked from his unlife. He longed for the days when he could just cut loose and revel in bloodshed and destruction like a demon should. Perhaps with Buffy he could find that again. He chuckled. "I think I'd like that, too." "But first, Snyder has to die." Buffy ran up the stairs to the porch, laughing all the way. Spike bounded up behind her. She pounded on the door, her excitement palpable as she waited. Finally, Snyder answered, a scowl on his face as he tightened the tie on his robe. "Well, if it isn't my least favorite delinquent—Buffy Summers." Snyder looked up at Spike and sneered. "Doesn't surprise me to see you with the likes of him. What are you doing at my house at this time of night? Did you want me to call the cops, because I'm going to." Buffy shook her head. "Nope. See, Spike and I were about to go vandalize the school, but we were fresh out of spray paint and wanted to know if you had any," she said, her eyes wide with uneasy innocence. Snyder pulled himself up. "The nerve of you children. I can't… Get in this house right now and wait while I call the cops. You're going to jail where you belong, missy." "Do you want us both to come in and wait for the cops?" Buffy asked with a pout. "Yes! Get in here right this instant. You little hooligans are going to learn a thing or two." Snyder stormed into the house, the two blonds behind him slipping into game face before they followed. "That was freakishly easy," Spike said as he shut the door. "Yeah, I know. He's stupid, And he seems to think he's got the power to strike fear in people's hearts." Spike tossed his head back and laughed. "Oh, I love those the most." Snyder turned. "What are you two…" He stopped, his face growing pale as he realized what he was faced with. "You…you're…I know the mayor!" "I hope you know God, too, 'cause you're about to meet 'im," Buffy said. She looked over at Spike. "You know, there's something I really want to try." "Go for it, pet." Buffy punched Snyder through the chest, managing to break through his skin and ribcage with her full strength. There, she grabbed out his heart, ripping it from his chest as she watched his eyes, a look of surprise there before they went lifeless. Snyder slumped to the ground and Buffy chuckled, his heart still pulsing for a second in her hand before it stopped. "Okay, that was just really awesome." Spike nodded towards her with his head tilted. "Bite it, sweets." Buffy did, moaning at the rush of blood that filled her mouth. "It's like candy!" she said excitedly. "Yep. Nothing better than a fresh heart." "Here, you have some, too," Buffy said, handing the heart to Spike. "I wanna do something." She dropped down to her knees in front of Snyder's body, then stuck her thumbnail into his eye and popped it out. When she did the same thing to the other one, Spike asked, "What are you doing?" "He always said he could see what was going on behind him," Buffy replied as she took his eyeballs and replaced them in the sockets—only this time facing backwards. "Now he can!" She laughed with delight at her handiwork. "Brilliant, pet," Spike complimented. "Let's go through his stuff," Buffy said, hopping back to her feet. "I want to see what sort of sick stuff he was up to, 'cause I know this man has to have skeletons in his closet." She bounded up the stairs, still laughing as she did. Spike let the heart slide from his hands to the floor and licked the blood off of his fingers as he followed her up. *** *** *** "Okay, I'm a vampire, and I'm disturbed by the amount of porn he has in here." Spike's head peeked around the corner of Snyder's closet door. "Bloody hell. Was he setting up his own video store?" "Xander would be jealous." Buffy shrugged. "Or at least he would be if I hadn't killed him." "So you offed your mates, then?" Spike asked. "Only him. I tried to get Willow, but she figured out what was up and chased me off with a cross." "Are you going to go after again later?" "Maybe." Buffy's nose wrinkled. "Most of this is slutty cheerleader stuff. No wonder that man was a high school principal. Ew." "So no burning need to go after the people you knew in life?" Spike asked, obviously more into this topic than Buffy. While, upon his turning, he'd felt compelled to wreak vengeance on those who had wronged him, he hadn't wanted to hurt the people he'd cared about. From what he'd heard, that was highly irregular for vampires, and he wondered if Buffy was the same way. If she was, then maybe he wasn't as strange as he'd thought, and something about sharing a trait like that with his new paramour was comforting. "Not particularly. I probably wouldn't have bothered with Xander, but Angelus was pushing for me to kill my mom, and I wanted to distract him." She wrinkled her nose as she flipped to a new page in the magazine she was perusing. "Okay, that is a seriously disturbing thing to do with a pom-pom." "You don't want to kill your mum?" Spike asked, surprised. "No." Buffy shrugged. "The thought just doesn't really thrill me that much. I don't really want to kill Giles either." At the next page, she rolled her eyes. "Oh please. I am so bendier than her." Spike knelt beside her and stroked her hair. "Does part of you still love them?" Buffy stiffened. "Vampires don't love, Spike." "Pet, I've been a vampire a little longer than you, so I think I can speak for our kind better than you can. Some of us can love. It may be a different sort of love than what humans are used to, but we still can. I loved Drusilla. And…" He paused for a moment and swallowed. "I loved my mum, after I was turned." Finally, Buffy's attention was away from the magazine and on Spike. "You…you did?" "Sure. Angelus was just one type of vampire. He was a bastard when he was alive, and he was a bastard when he was dead. But vampires like us, we're different, yeah? We can be evil and still care, at least a little bit." Buffy smiled at him, her expression softer now than the evil one she'd worn so frequently over the past couple of days. "So…does that mean you care about me?" Her eyes were so wide, so welcoming…how could he not? "Yeah, baby. I do." In a move that surprised him, Buffy threw her arms around him. "I care about you, too. I thought it was kind of weird, 'cause we're vampires, and when I wasn't, you were my enemy and stuff, but I like being with you and you make me happy, so if you say vampires can care a little, then maybe it's okay." Spike returned her embrace. "Yeah, it's okay." He pulled back and cupped her chin. "But be careful who you show it to, pet. Some might see it as weakness." "I'm not weak," Buffy replied, her back suddenly growing stiff again. "No, you're not. But vampires, we're predators—always looking for an in, yeah? But I know what you're feeling, and I know it doesn't mean you can be anything but a Big Bad." He winked. "I'm gonna be," Buffy said. "I've never felt this free in my life, and I'm going to relish it—do everything my evil little heart desires." Spike smiled. "That's my girl." As Buffy smiled back, Spike couldn't help but feel disloyal to Drusilla. Never in all their years together had they had a moment quite like this one—yet Dru had never felt love the way he did. Granted, she'd retained some of her capacity to love, but never the way Spike himself had, even if he'd tried so hard to convince himself she could truly reciprocate his feelings. But Buffy… Could she be different? Could the loss of his sire somehow be a blessing in disguise—his chance to finally know the sort of love he'd craved for well over a century? His unbeating heart clenched with hope. This tiny blonde could be the answer to his, well, not exactly prayers, but what he was looking for nonetheless. Earlier, she'd said they could be like an "undead Bonnie and Clyde," and Spike found himself wanting that more than anything. The thoughts alone of what they could do together were enough to make him tremble. "Sun's going to be up soon, kitten," he said, kissing her forehead. "We should be finding ourselves a place to bunk for the day." "Can we put Snyder in an embarrassing position before we leave?" Buffy asked. Spike chuckled. "Of course, pigeon." *** *** *** She ran through the graveyard, laughing, and Spike couldn't help but give chase. It had been a long time since he'd felt this carefree, not since before that mob in Prague. Being with Buffy was like finding a part of himself again. As much as he hated to even think it, losing Drusilla had been, in some ways, a relief. Recently, things hadn't been with her like they'd once been, and in all honesty, he didn't think they could ever go back, not after the way she'd treated him. He knew there was no question about whether or not he would've forgiven her, but even if Angelus had wandered out of the picture again, things never would've been the same. But now, it was like getting a fresh start. Buffy was beginning her existence as a vampire, and tonight had been like getting to see it all through her eyes. It was all fresh to her, all new, and she had reveled in every sensation. Seeing the look on her face when she sank her fangs into Snyder's heart was something Spike wouldn't trade for the world. Still, Spike had never really played the roll of sire before. His only attempt at turning someone other than a minion had met with disastrous results, and since then, he'd made no childer. He stopped short, something catching his eye. "Pet! How about over here?" Buffy halted, turned, and came to Spike's side. "Cozy little crypt for two?" she said, wrapping herself around him. "That's what I'm thinking." Spike replied with a smile. "Wanna go in and check it out?" Buffy nodded enthusiastically, and Spike led her in, his hand linked with hers. "A couple rugs, some throw pillows, it could be homey," Buffy said, looking around the dusty crypt in approval. "We can fix it up later. Right now…" Before Spike could finish his sentence, Buffy had tackled him to the ground. Without another word, he grabbed her face and kissed her hard. *** *** *** I don't know why people assumed the last chapter was the end. If it was the end, I'd say so—I didn't; it wasn't. Remember all those warnings of angst at the beginning? Trust me, those were for more than the little bit of angst I've had in here so far. This story was not all about Buffy getting rid of Angelus. Honestly, he wasn't even ever meant to be the focus of it. I have something else entirely planned. So sit tight, and I'll let you know when I've reached the end. Please review and Happy Halloween!

Chapter #8 - Chapter Eight

Buffy stretched as she woke, a contented smile on her face before she even opened her eyes. She could feel Spike's firm chest beneath her, could smell his scent all around her, and she loved it. She rolled onto her side, taking the opportunity to inspect him while he slept. His pale skin was covered in small marks left by her teeth and nails, while the curls in his bleached hair were rumpled, her hands having freed them from their usual slicked-back style. Buffy wondered if she could convince him to let her do his hair from now on... But what she loved most were her marks—especially the very distinct bite mark on the side of his throat. He looked like hers, and she loved it. She doubted he'd completely forgotten about his sire and former lover, but Buffy was determined that in time, Drusilla would be nothing more than a distant memory. She wanted Spike all to herself, wanted him to belong to her and no one else. So she was a greedy little bitch, but hey—vampires didn't like to share. She leaned in and licked his neck, her tongue moving over her bite mark. Spike moaned in his sleep, his cock growing harder and longer with every pass of her tongue. The effect she could have on him so easily delighted Buffy, gave her a sense of womanly power she'd never truly known in her human life. When she noticed Spike didn't seem to be waking, Buffy decided to give it a little extra nudge. She rolled over again, her legs straddling his waist, then pulled up and guided his cock inside of her. The feel of him filling her was alone enough to make her moan, and she took a moment to let her body adjust before she began to move, riding him at a slow, leisurely pace Spike groaned, Buffy's actions beginning to penetrate his brain through the haze of sleep. The sensation of her surrounding his cock pulled him into consciousness, and when he opened his eyes and saw her there, he groaned and thrust up. "Good evening, sleepy head," Buffy said, her mouth quirking. "I was trying to wake you up." Spike brought his hands to her hips, guiding her movements to gain in speed. "Yeah? Well, you picked a nice way to do that, pet." "I thought so." She shimmied her hips and moaned. "You feel so good inside of me, Spike." "Feels good to be inside." Spike panted as she began to ride him harder, her eyes locking with his. She loved that she could make him forget he didn't need to breathe. "More," Spike begged her. "Make it hurt, baby." With a wicked grin in place, Spike knew Buffy was more than happy to oblige. She sped her hips up more, to a pace only a superhuman being could maintain, her inner muscles squeezing him ruthlessly as she did. She vamped out, watching through yellow eyes as she ran her sharp nails down his chest, tearing his flesh and bringing forth trails of blood. Spike groaned and brought his hands down to grip the sides of the sarcophagus they'd used for a bed, breaking off bits of it as he did. The blood on his chest was more than Buffy could resist, and she dipped her head, licking it off of him with moans of pure bliss. Spike shook, his body balancing on the edge of orgasm, when Buffy moved her mouth to his chest and sunk her fangs in around his nipple. Spike's hips shot up, a yell torn from his throat as he came hard. The feel of him slamming all the way into her sent Buffy spiraling over with him, screaming his name as she shook violently. Finally, they collapsed in a heap on the sarcophagus, both of them panting heavily. Spike raised his hand, his fingers trembling as he stroked Buffy's hair. Bloody hell, she was… "Amazing." Buffy raised her head when he spoke and looked at him with hazy green eyes. "Hmm?" "Amazing. That's what you are, Buffy. Bloody amazing." She smiled, the expression oddly shy given the circumstances. "I am?" "Yeah, you are." He tucked the hair on one side of her head behind her ear so he could run his knuckles across her cheek. "You're so…raw. You give into everything you feel, get lost in the moment. There's no pretense, no games when you're with me, you just… Fuck, baby, it's so intense." "Angelus told me I wasn't good enough to really please him." Spike's jaw ticked. "Angelus was a sodding wanker. If he wasn't smart enough to appreciate what a treasure he had in his bed, then that was his problem, Buffy. Not yours. And the fucker deserved what you did to him. The only thing that could've made it better was if it hadn't been so bloody quick." Buffy's smile changed as she preened from his praise. "I want to please you, Spike. You make me want to, with what you do to me. When you're inside me, all I know is you." Her words went straight to his dead heart, and for a second, Spike could've sworn he felt it beat. He kept expecting to wake up, to find himself back in that chair, broken and alone while he listened to Drusilla moan and scream in her sire's bed. This was everything he'd ever wanted, a woman who looked at him with shining eyes and told him she wanted him like no one else. He'd wanted Buffy since the first moment he saw her. There was no reason to deny that, especially not now. However, he'd never expected to have her like this, or for it to be so wonderful. He doubted he could've ever had this if she hadn't been turned, and for that he was at least begrudgingly grateful to Angelus, even if he still didn't approve of the way it had been done. Yet the past couldn't be changed, and he wouldn't want it to be anyway, not now. Anything was worth it to bring this dark goddess to him. Spike searched his mind for a response to her soft admission, but found himself lacking one. For a man who had once made a life of words, he thought it strange he couldn't find any for what he felt now, but he made do with a kiss, his mouth capturing Buffy's, tasting her until his cock re-hardened, lengthening inside of her and making their movements begin anew. *** *** *** Eventually, they'd torn themselves away from each other, knowing if they didn't head out soon, they'd be without food for the night. Buffy had told Spike she wanted to go shopping, claiming she didn't want to be like him in the same outfit all of the time. He'd insisted he did in fact change his clothes, only they tended to be just like the ones he'd worn before, yet Buffy's only response had been crossed arms and an arched eyebrow. Spike had laughed at that and told her it would be his pleasure to take her shopping. Now, she stood in a shop on Sunnydale's Main Street, holding up a pale pink halter top. She liked the cut, but the color just so didn't scream "evil!" "Hey, shop girl, do you have this in red?" she asked, calling over her shoulder. "N…no. We only have that color," the girl replied, trembling in fear as she clutched the wound at her neck. "Well, damn. Honey, do you like this?" Buffy asked Spike as she gestured to the pink top. "It'll make you look like cotton candy," Spike replied, wrinkling his nose. He held something else up. "How about this?" "That's a leather bra." "Your point?" Buffy rolled her eyes. "You're such a guy. Throw it in the bag." His tongue between his teeth, Spike added it to Buffy's other clothes before he returned his attention to the lingerie display. "Ooh, this is nice," Buffy said, pulling a blood red mini-dress from the rack. "What do you think?" Spike turned to her, and his eyes glazed over for a moment as he pictured the garment on Buffy. "I'll take that as a yes," Buffy said, Spike's look more than answer enough to her question. She slung the dress over her arm, then browsed the clothes on the rack again. "You know, this is so much better than shopping used to be. Then, I had to worry about what I could afford and what my mother would let me get away with what I'm wearing. Now I can just take whatever I want and get a tasty meal in the process." She turned to the shop girl and flashed her fangs, loving the way it made the girl cry harder. "Being a vampire definitely has its perks," Spike replied as he ran his thumb over the lace of a red thong. He couldn't wait until it was drenched with Buffy's juices, heady with her scent. When Buffy had found everything she wanted, Spike hauled the shop girl up, then bent his knees with the girl still propped up in front of him. "Come here, baby," he beckoned to Buffy. "Drink with me." Buffy hurried over to him, noting how he'd brought the girl down low enough so she could reach her neck without having to crane up. It touched her that he'd be so thoughtful. Together, they drained the girl, each taking a side of her neck until she slumped, lifeless. Spike gathered Buffy's things and they left the store together, strolling down the street towards where he'd left his DeSoto. Buffy stopped short in front of an antique store, then took a step towards the window. "You see something you like, pet?" Spike asked. "Oh, not really. I mean, not anything I'm going to try to drag back with us," she replied. "I was just admiring that bed." Spike looked at the bed in question, seeing that it was a large, wrought-iron canopy bed. "It is nice," he told her. "I used to want a bed like that as a little girl, but my mother told me it would never fit in my room." Buffy turned away from the window. "Come on. I want to go back to the crypt and try on some of those things you picked out." She winked. Her words made Spike's mind immediately go to one of his favorite mental places, and he followed her back to the car. *** *** *** Spike loved how she was after a good kill. Hot, fresh blood in her veins always enflamed her, made her desperate for a hard fuck, and him desperate to give it to her. She was a wild thing, completely untamed—nor did she want to be tamed. She wanted to touch, to experience, to feel. Her world was one of intensity, of bright, vibrant colors and sounds. And she brought a new light into his. The more he touched her, tasted her, the less space Drusilla seemed to take up in his mind. He'd always thought they'd shared so much before he'd spent just a night with Buffy. She was intensely passionate in a way his sire had never been, gave into the sensual in a way Spike knew intimately. Dru had always been about control, making everything into a game in order to get her way. Buffy simply existed in the moment, let passion and desire roll over her until she became it. Just. Like. Him. He felt as if he'd found water at the end of a long trek through the desert, his poet's heart wanting to describe her in metaphors and exhaust her with lyrical praise. Yet when he was inside of her, he could not speak, save for desperate gasps of her name, leaving him with no rhythm but that of his hips. Finally, as the sun began to break over the horizon, they collapsed into each others arms, sated. Spike held her close against his chest, his hand caressing her body as he hoped that were this but a dream, he would never again wake. *** *** *** Reviews? Please? I'll pout if I have to… *wink*

Chapter #9 - Author's Note

This is not an actual update. Sorry to anyone who was expecting one, but that won't come until Tuesday. It will not, however, be on this site. It saddens me to say I will, as of today, be leaving the Bloodshedverse. It's a decision that I've struggled with, but in the end, I feel it is something that I need to do. The site I once loved is gone. What's left in its place is quickly becoming the snobbish, elitist site BSV used to be called. Then, I defended the site fully. Now, I cannot. As most of you are probably aware, the administration of BSV has recently changed hands. Since then, the policies behind deciding what is "good enough" for the site have become something I cannot and will not support. The way I have seen new authors treated appalls me. Things have been said that I don't feel should be said to anyone. There is a difference between being diligent about site quality and being cruel and condescending, and apparently, the current BSV mods do not recognize it. This fandom is, in my opinion, struggling. With the shows both over, getting new authors to join and old authors to stay is becoming an ongoing issue. Without fresh blood, so to speak, this fandom will, eventually, die out. Because of this, I feel that we owe it to ourselves to encourage new writers to the best of our abilities. This cannot be done by ripping them to shreds and informing them they are not good enough in a cruel, uncaring manner. I have seen first hand the sort of emails that have been going out to new writers, and I have been shocked. Never would I speak to someone like that, and I will not post at a site that would allow such emails to be sent. Writing is difficult, and it is hard to find your voice. Very few of us established writers, looking back, can be completely proud of our first attempts at fanfiction. However, with patience, time, and a warm, embracing fandom, new writers can grow into something else. When their first attempts are coldly cut down, this will not happen. Furthermore, no writer in the fandom is perfect. For a "select" group of authors who have, quite frankly, their own problems with writing, as we all do, to hold themselves above the rest and declare themselves not only better than others but in a position to dictate what is and isn't "good enough," is ridiculous. Yes, there should be a standard. Grammar rules should be followed to a reasonable extent and the fic itself should be readable. However, snobbish declarations of what is and isn't "good enough for the 'verse" is going too far, and isn't something I will support. Fanfiction is a hobby. None of us are professionals and none of us should be expected to be. When fanfiction becomes a source of stress and anxiety in someone's life, something is very, very wrong. I'm sure this posting will be controversial, but as someone who has tried in the past to stay out of fandom politics, I can stay quiet no longer. I feel that something fundamentally wrong is occurring on this site, and I won't be a part of it. I will continue to write and post my fics on other archives, this fic included, but I will no longer post or read at the Bloodshedverse. I consider myself an author with integrity, and after talking with several people and seeing everything that has been going on here, I feel I cannot continue to be such and patronize this website. I'm sorry to any of my readers who this will inconvenience. As I stated, I will continue to regularly update this fic, only elsewhere. As of now, it will be updated on the Spuffy Realm, Buffy/Spike Central, aff.net, and my personal website, Blood and Satin. If you are unfamiliar with those sites and would like a link, feel free to email me, and I will provide you with one. Furthermore, I have an updates mailing list anyone over the age of eighteen is free to join. My readers were what took me a few days to consider the decision since I hate to abandon any of you, but this entire situation was bothering me so much, I feel I need to distance myself from the website now. So long, BSV. ~Addie Logan 11/5/06