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Once a Vampire Groupie... by slaymesoftly
 
Four
 
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Chapter Four

After spending some time mentally going over what supplies they would need and how much time it might take to get them, Buffy drifted off herself, the bruise on her back already losing it’s color and well on its way to being just a memory. She was in the middle of a very real-seeming dream in which Spike was using his talented mouth to bring her to the brink of orgasm over and over when she opened her eyes and realized several things: It was morning, light was clearly visible around the heavy curtains on the windows; she was not dreaming, and Spike had both her legs over his shoulders and was busy licking her inside and out while her hips – without any thought on her part – were moving vigorously against his mouth.

“Wha--?”

He looked up at her with grin. A grin tinged red with the blood on his lips.

“Looks like Mother Nature thought I needed a little boost,” he said, sticking out his blood-covered tongue. “Why didn’t you tell me this is what you had in mind?”

“I…didn’t…know…” she gasped, arching into him as he went back to work. “You know I never know when to expect…aaaah!”

“Shhhhh, love. Don’t want the other slayers getting jealous, do we?”

Buffy didn’t reply. She’d long since stopped feeding Spike’s ego, knowing full well that he could tell from her reactions and the sounds she made how much she enjoyed his talents. She pulled the pillow over her face to muffle any more loud responses she might have, and let him amuse himself by cleaning out any trace of the rich blood her body had decided wasn’t needed that month.

She was still quaking when he slid up her body, tugged the pillow off her face, and slipped into her.

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, as his hips began moving against her.

“Bet you say that to all the slayers you--”

She never finished her intended remark, wrapping her arms and legs around him and clinging until she felt him shudder against her. He remained, lying on her now relaxed body, until they heard the sounds of chatter in the hallway outside their room. With a groan, he rolled off and stared at the ceiling.

“Time to get up,” she sighed, dropping a kiss on his chest as she sat up.

“It’s no time for any self-respecting vampire to be up,” he grumbled, trying to pull her down with him.

“You wouldn’t know self-respect if you fell over it,” she snarked back, eluding his hand and getting off the bed. “Come on, lazy. Get up. I’ve got a plan to explain.”

Buffy escaped to the bathroom, getting herself cleaned up and dressed before coming out to find that Spike was on his feet, but still naked.

“Gonna take a quick shower,” he explained.

Buffy nodded. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said. “Don’t be too long. I want you there for this.”

She left as he headed for the bathroom, wondering idly if the tiny amount of slayer blood he had ingested was actually enough to do him any good, or if he just liked it. Once she’d gotten over her original “ewww” reaction to his insistence that the rich blood her body produced every month or so was no different from any other blood, just more fun to obtain, it had become their habit for him to help himself whenever the occasion arose. She had to admit that he did seem marginally stronger than when she’d first found him with Anne, and he now had what, she supposed, passed for a surprisingly healthy look…for a vampire.

As soon as Spike joined her downstairs, she asked the slayers to quiet down while she explained what she was thinking. She began with the basic facts.

“We’ve lost five girls, and have two more injured badly enough to hit the Emergency Room.” She smiled briefly at Janie and Bobbi, both of whom had returned from the ER, but were clearly not up to fighting strength yet. “We’re fighting against vampires that have been feeding on slayer blood – pretty much a vitamin tonic for them, isn’t that right?”

She cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Spike who managed to appear apologetic and cocky at the same time.

“That’s right, love,” he said. “It’s quite a boost to a vamp’s system. Bit more temporary than we might like, but….” Glares from around the table stopped him before he could dig himself too deep a hole.

“So,” Buffy continued, adding her own glare, “we’ve got some experienced fighters with supernatural strength that’s more than normal vamp strength; we’ve got a queen bee vamp who’s been getting at all the blood first, so who knows how strong she is right now; and, we’ve got a turned slayer who may or may not be stronger than she was before, but who is a trained fighter and who knows you guys really well.”

“You make it sound like you think we can’t beat them,” Janie said, shifting her bandage-covered legs as though planning to get up.

“I didn’t say that,” Buffy said sharply. “We can beat them. I’ve no doubt of it. But I see no reason to risk any more lives when there’s an easier way to do it than fighting them on their own turf.”

She explained her plan, laying out the materials they would need and waiting for the reaction. Which came swiftly.

“Will that work? Are you sure?”

“It works,” Buffy said tightly. “Trust me. Been there, used to have the tee shirt in my drawer.”

With a minimum of discussion and argument, they settled on the plan and scattered to collect the materials needed. While the girls went about preparing for the next expedition to the nest, Spike and Buffy sat at the table and made notes about the building’s exterior, including what kind of siding it had and where the windows and doors were located.

“You’ve been holding out on me, love,” he said, nodding his head in admiration. “Had no idea you’d trashed more than one high school. No wonder that scrawny little rat of a principal didn’t want you around.”

“I knew you’d go for this,” she sighed with mock disapproval.

“Chaos, mayhem, things that go boom. What’s not to like?”

“You are such a guy sometimes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of hours later, with the sun still making its ascent towards noon and the streets around the shelter still relatively empty, two vans full of slayers and supplies drove up to the rear of the building. Buffy and her chosen squad of revenge-seeking slayers jumped out and quickly unloaded their supplies, waving the vans off as soon as they were empty. While the two injured girls – who had refused to stay home – watched for genuine homeless people to shoo away and for any sign of police or nosy neighbors, the rest of the girls used well-coordinated movements to get everything into place.

Gasoline was poured around any and all possible exits, into the dumpster, under the doors, through the roughly patched broken windows, and onto the wooden siding. Only the part of the building facing the street was not soaked in gasoline. The remaining girls, stakes hidden, stood where they could easily see if any blanket-covered inhabitants made it out the front door.

At the agreed upon signal, matches were struck and thrown onto the reeking liquid surrounding the building. Using Spike’s lighter, Buffy set fire to the gasoline-soaked pile of debris in front of her and stepped back quickly. All the slayers retreated to a safe distance to watch the old building go up in flames. They smiled in satisfaction as the occasional flaming vampire leapt from an upper window, only to dissolve into ashes before reaching the ground.

With the sound of fire engines ringing in their ears, Buffy signaled the girls to beat a hasty retreat, taking Anita, the Latina slayer, with her as she slid into a manhole to meet Spike in the sewers. At his suggestion, she’d sent him and another slayer to watch the tunnels under the building - just in case.

The sounds of battle coming from the direction of the shelter told her that it had been a good plan. She ran towards the sounds, footfalls behind her indicating Anita was having no trouble keeping up. She skidded to a halt when she saw Spike, an obviously injured Caroline behind him doing her best to guard his back while he faced off against Dora and a small group of minions. Once again, Chanterelle was remaining out of the fight, offering verbal encouragement to her troops from a safe distance.

The sight of Buffy and Anita, stakes and swords in hand as they moved up beside Spike sent a few of those troops running back the way they had come. Before Chanterelle could throw them back into the fray, there was a muffled explosion behind her and acrid smoke came drifting through the tunnel.

“The building collapsed! We’re trapped!” The minion’s hysterical scream was cut short as his sire swiped her taloned hand across his neck, severing his head from his body.

“There are only three of them,” she growled, shoving the others back towards Spike and the two healthy slayers. Caroline had scuttled away from the fighting and was sitting propped against the wall far enough away to be safe, but close enough to use her sword if she needed to.

While Spike engaged Dora, his eyes alight with the joy of combat, Buffy and Anita worked their way through the remaining minions, staking and beheading with cool efficiency and a minimum of quipping - although Anita could be heard muttering to herself in Spanish from time to time. As soon as it looked like Anita was going to be able to handle things herself, Buffy vaulted over the head of the remaining vampire in front of her, staking him as she landed. She was now facing Chanterelle, whose bared teeth and expression of fury bore no resemblance to the quiet, gentle girl Buffy had known.

“You!” the vampire hissed. “I should have never let you in the building. Or told you that Spike was here. This is all your fault!”

“Oh, I certainly hope so,” Buffy said, her own smile feral and deadly. “I warned you if you let a nest settle in here, I’d be back. And here I am,” she concluded, leaping at the snarling vampire. To her surprise, she was met with a powerful backhand that slammed her into the slimy wall.

Note to self. Drinking slayer blood makes vampires fast and strong.

Buffy remained crouched against the wall, fighting the urge to close her rapidly-swelling eye, while an overly confident Chanterelle stalked towards her, clearly expecting that she’d temporarily immobilize the Slayer. Buffy waited until the slavering vampire reached for her with both hands. As Chanterelle yanked her up and forward, Buffy used her legs to propel herself in the same direction with a force and speed the vampire hadn’t anticipated. Leading with her stake, she plunged it into Chanterelle’s chest even as the vampire’s fangs scraped the skin on her throat.

Coughing through the dust cloud, Buffy frantically rubbed her eyes and searched for Spike. Her vision cleared just in time to watch his game face fade away and Dora’s dust settle onto the damp floor in front of him. His right arm dangled from his side, the bone bent at an awkward angle, but the satisfied expression on his face showed no trace of the pain he ought to be feeling. Only when he whirled to be sure she was okay, did he wince and grab the arm with his other hand, trying to hold it still.

Hastening towards him, Buffy watched from the corner of her eye as Anita dusted the last of her vamps and bent down to exchange high fives with Caroline. Anita helped the injured slayer to her feet, letting the smaller girl lean on her as they began to make their way in the opposite direction from the smoke, dust and heat billowing down the tunnel from the now destroyed old wooden building.

Buffy whipped off her jacket, ripping it to create a make-shift sling and promising Spike she would fix the break when they got back to the slayer residence. Moving slowly so as not to jostle Spike’s arm any more than necessary, they made their way away from the smoke and dust and towards the fresh air of an open manhole. Eager hands reached down to help them out, quickly replacing the manhole cover as soon as both Spike and Buffy were standing in the street – Spike cowering gratefully beneath the ratty blanket one of the girls had snatched off a gawking homeless man.

“Much obliged, mate,” Spike muttered as he hurried by the still staring man and into the shelter of the nearest shaded area.

 
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