Chapter 5

Spike stalked through the large main room carrying Buffy. He cradled his precious burden against his black clad chest, glancing down at her sleeping features.

The open room had a massive fireplace at one end with several large, soft armchairs and a long, plush sofa facing it. The coffee table was an ornate wrought iron with a sheet of heavy glass over the delicate metalwork, which had been forged into a mass of twisting metal vines and leaves. There were bookshelves covering most of the walls and they were filled to overflowing with a mish-mash of antique leather bound books and modern paperbacks.

The wooden staircase to the right of the room lead to a gallery that ran the length of the house. There were several doors facing into the room, which lead off from it. The open plan kitchen sat under the gallery and was divided off from the room by a Walnut dining table and chairs. The stainless steel kitchen was at odds with the warm homey charm of the rest of the cabin. The only other touch of modernity visible in the room was the entertainment centre that Spike had installed in the last year.

The predominant colours of the fabrics on the furniture and window were deep crimson brocade that was trimmed with a darker maroon velvet banding. Tossed casually over the back of the sofa were several ethnic throws, which complimented the cushions scattered along the length of the couch. It was a warm haven for all who were welcomed there, completely at odds with the persona that it’s owner presented to the outside world.

Candles littered every available surface and above their heads was a gilded ormolu chandelier, which had been converted to electricity. Spike grabbed the suitcase he had packed for Buffy, carrying it and the still sleeping girl up the stairs.

He hesitated at the door to his room, unsure if she would want to wake in the lion's den. Spike sighed and kicked the door open. ‘She needs her rest…’ Dropping the awkwardly held suitcase to the floor, the tired vampire headed into the en-suite bathroom.

"Best get you cleaned up, pet." Spike glanced down at Buffy. The relaxed expression on her face made him smile sadly. He was acutely aware that she wouldn't find much peace once she awoke. Spike hoped he was up to the task of helping her make this transition…

He shifted Buffy in his arms and reached down to turn on the taps. Water began to fill the Victorian roll top freestanding tub. Spike then hesitated, unsure as to what to do. He instinctively knew that his Slayer would want to wash off Dracula’s presence from her body, but that would mean stripping her. Somehow he doubted the usually antagonistic Slayer would appreciate him ogling her goodies. Spike groaned, hating that he was caught in a moral dilemma, he was unused to having to consider all the moral angles. He was more of an attack first and then think later kinda vamp.

Which had lead to some of his more embarrassing failures. Usually at the hands of the tiny woman held reverently his arms.

Spike sighed, reached over and twisted off the taps. "Promise not to peek, luv," Spike whispered. "Well, not much. " He smirked.

Spike’s pale hands deftly stripped the white, toga-style dress off Buffy's body, revealing her perfect, pale-skinned form to Spike. His eyes widened at the sight of her small breasts topped with pale pink nipples, which had firmed in the coolness of the bathroom.

"Christ, love, you're gorgeous." Spike swallowed and then clenched his teeth. His hands fisted as he tried to force himself not to touch her soft skin.

Spike scanned her body, checking for injuries. Silently vowing that for any bite marks scratch or bruise Drac had left on the turned Slayer, he would pay. In full…

Spike's full mouth tightened at the sight of Drac’s finger marks on her hips and inner thighs. "Betcha fought him tooth and nail, though. Don't worry, luv, we'll get you cleaned and rested. After that, the Eurotrash vamp better watch out.” Spike knew that despite the easy camaraderie that he and Drac had shared, the sight of Buffy's bruised body had cancelled out any friendship.

Dracula would pay for his many transgressions. Slowly and painfully, Spike promised to himself.

The distraught vampire carefully deposited Buffy in the warm water and reached for a sponge. "Let’s get you washed up and then we can tuck you into bed. I'm sure you need some rest."

Gently, Spike began to wash Buffy's lax form.

His left hand cradled the back of her neck gently, holding her face out of the water.

From his years of tending to Drusilla, Spike was experienced in bathing women. He deftly washed away the dried remnants of Dracula's seed, his fingers impersonal. Spike's blue eyes darkened with lust at the sight of the neatly trimmed dark curls at the apex of Buffy's thighs, but the blond vampire suppressed his feelings. He was very aware that they would not be welcomed. Unlike Angelus, he preferred his sexual partners awake and willing.

Cupping Buffy's small head in his hand, Spike carefully cleaned his blood from her full lips. He was mesmerised by the tiny white fangs that were revealed. He looked at her face, amazed that she had no lumpies. "You probably don’t want to hear this, but you’re probably the most gorgeous vampire ever, luv. Never thought Drac could pass on his vampiric attributes." Spike ran his fingers over her unlined forehead and, unable to resist, he leant over and brushed a gentle kiss to her soft skin. At the touch of his lips, Buffy's small fangs automatically retracted, responding to her Sire’s touch.

Spike quickly washed her hair and then pulled her out of the tub, wrapping her in soft, white towels. The vampiric nursemaid dried her lax form and carried her into the bedroom.

"Just rest here for a bit, Sweets, while I get your nightie." Spike deposited her towel-wrapped form on his king-size bed. Turning, he searched through the suitcase he had packed for her, pausing to pull Mr. Gordo from his duster pocket. Tucking him safely under one arm, Spike searched for her nightclothes.

"Balls, luv, I'm sorry." He turned to Buffy supine form. "I forgot to pack any nightclothes. Will one of my T-shirts do?" Spike pulled open a drawer and extracted one of his many interchangeable black t-shirts. He snagged a pair of her cotton panties and quickly dressed her.

"There you go. Let’s get you to bed now." Spike quickly tucked her under the navy blue comforter and sheets. He slipped Mr. Gordo under her chin. "You rest a bit while I get us settled." Spike hesitantly reached over and brushed her damp hair off her forehead. "Better get a fire going in here."

Moving swiftly, Spike lit the prepared fire in the fireplace at the end of the bed. The flames flickered to life, illuminating their room with a golden glow. It was decorated much in the style of the rest of the cabin, rich navies and crimson fabrics. At the foot of the bed was a chaise lounge, which faced the crackling fire. There was a massive oak armoire and bedside tables. Other than that, there were several oil paintings on the walls and shelves of books and CD's. Gilded wall scones on the wall were filled with half melted candles. The windows that ran the length of the wall on the right were covered with heavy, velvet curtains. It was a comfortable room, which had been decorated with care.

*********

Willow, Tara, Anya and Giles all stood in the dining room.

"Giles, we need to say something soon. You know that they get addicted to the bites and the rush from bloodletting," Anya hissed.

Willow and Tara gasped.

"I know, Anya, but we need to find Buffy and rescue Xander." Giles sighed tiredly.

"Oh! I was going to get something of Buffy's for the scrying spell." Willow slipped out of Tara's embrace and trotted up the stairs.

"So...Mr. Giles, do we act as if we haven't noticed?" Tara asked hesitantly.

Giles nodded, tiredly. He was aware that Buffy would be devastated by the ex-Initative soldier's behaviour. But he imaged it would be brief as she had never really invested herself completely in the relationship. "Yes, we must be on our guard, all of you must never invite him into your homes. If he asks, then we will know if it’s too late. It's a worrying situation, I'm truly disappointed with him." He pulled off his glasses, but before he could clean them, Anya took them from his hand and slipped them back on his face. Giles blinked and smiled at his employee.

"With who?" Riley's amiable voice behind them caused Anya and Tara to jump.

"Uh, Xander," Tara offered weakly.

"Oh, right." Riley nodded. "Was wondering what all the secrecy was about." He laughed and turned back to the sitting room and re-joined a silent Joyce, who eyed his neck and glared at him.

Willow returned to the sitting room where everyone was gathered, her face ashen. "Guys, I think maybe something happened to Buffy."

"What do you mean?" Giles leant forward.

"Well, Mr. Gordo, some of her clothes and her diary are missing," Willow whispered.

"Don't be silly, Willow. I saw Mr. Gordo there earlier." Joyce trailed off. "Wait! Someone was here earlier, then!"

"The window was open, but unfortunately I didn't have the presence of mind to check the room for missing articles of clothing and stuffed toys." Giles shoulders drooped. "I've let her down again."

"Maybe she ran away?" Riley suggested, unaware of how sensitive a subject that was.

"No, it was Spike. I saw him here earlier, he was carrying a suitcase and got into his car," a new voice interrupted before anyone could call Riley on his callous comment.

"Dawn, you should be in bed!" Joyce stood.

Willow, Anya, Giles and Tara all stared blindly at the girl and then, in unison, blinked.

"Dawnie, what did you see, sweetie?" Tara asked. Her and the other’s momentary adjustment to the first appearance of Dawn Summers was over and they all acted on the false memories and suggestions implanted by the Monks.

Dawn sat on the stairs, her long arms wrapped around her coltish legs. Enjoying the limelight, she grinned. "I saw Spike sneak out of Buffy's room a while ago with her suitcase, he got into that way cool car of his and drove off."

"Spike!" Riley snarled. "I'll go check on his crypt and see what he's up to." With that, the tall soldier ran out of the house.

"Wait! Don't you want to see what the spell shows?" Willow called forlornly after his disappearing form.

"Don't fall on any fangs while you're out!" Anya called cheerfully.

"Spell, cool. Can I watch?" Dawn leapt up and rushed over to the table. She began poking the various ingredients. "Hey, what did you mean don't fall on any fangs?" She asked Anya curiously.

For the next few minutes, Giles explained carefully their suspicions about Riley and extracted promises from both Dawn and Joyce to never openly invite him in. Of all of them, they were the most vulnerable, neither of them having any powers of their own to protect them. Joyce had voiced her concerns over Riley when he had arrived earlier this evening, and Giles commended her on her caution.

*********

"Spike!" Riley shouted as he kicked open the door of the crypt.

"Ahh!" Harmony shrieked and dropped her magazine.

Riley stalked over to the blonde vampire and hauled her up. "Where is he?"

"I have no idea...I came back and he was gone!" Harmony squeaked, her fear making her forget she was stronger than the enraged man shaking her. "Lemme go, you’re hurting me!"

Riley shook her again. "You're a vampire, you stupid girl, only this hurts!" With that he pulled out a stake and slammed it into her heart. Riley dusted his hands off and smiled at the pile of dust at his feet, secretly pleased that he had staked Spike's girlfriend.

*********

"Willow, try it again," Giles stared at the un-charred map, mystified.

"I don't understand, Giles, she can't have disappeared completely!" Willow reached over for another handful of powder. She pulled a few more blonde hairs from the comb she had found on Buffy's vanity and began to chant again.

None of them realised that the map was only for Sunnydale and it's immediate surroundings. Buffy was miles from home and safe from any scrying spells.

Dawn curled up against her Mom and her head nodded as she dozed off. She had been thrilled to be included in the Scooby meeting, but it was late and she was exhausted.

Willow slammed her hands down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work!"

"Okay, enough, everyone needs to calm down." Joyce sat forward. "I think as much as I want to find Buffy now, Willow and Tara need some rest. You're welcome to stay here, I'm sure Buffy won't mind if you sleep in her bed. Anya, there's an inflatable mattress which we can set up in Dawn's room and Giles, if you don't mind, you can sleep on the sofa." She looked over at everyone and waited.

"We can't all impose, Mrs. Summers." Tara whispered.

"Yes, you can. I don't want to be alone and I'm sure that for now we need to be together until we can get Buffy and Xander home safe." Joyce suppressed her tears, trying to put on a brave face for her daughter’s friends.

"Cool! Anya gets to stay with me!" Dawn yawned and stretched. She knew that if she asked the frank ex-demon anything she would be overwhelmed with details, which no one else would volunteer.

Moving quickly, Joyce locked up the house and settled everyone for the night.

When Riley returned from Spike's crypt, the house was dark and silent. He tried the doors and, when he couldn't get in, he returned to his apartment.

*********

Spike sat tiredly facing the large fire he built in the fireplace in the main room. The flickering flames lit his angular face, casting his eyes into shadows. The Master Vampire sat thinking about the dramatic events of the night. He was still in shock over the sight of his Slayer in Dracula's mansion. He couldn't fathom why he had rescued her; he ignored the persistent little voice at the back of his mind. 'Well, you love her, you ponce.'

He raised his glass to his lips and downed the rest of the JD. Reaching over, he grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. During his ruminations he kept one ear trained on his guest. The blond vampire had managed to restrain himself so far; but the rage was building in him. He wanted, no, needed to rip something or someone apart.

He needed revenge for Buffy.

Spike growled deep in his chest. He stood and stormed into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, he grabbed a bag of blood and poured some into a mug to heat. He leant on the counter watching the ceramic mug turning in the microwave, pulling it out and gulping it down once it was heated. Rinsing the mug, he left it on the draining board. Leaving the house, Spike loaded up on firewood and pinecones. The vampire took several trips before he was satisfied there was enough for the next few days. Leaving the front door open, he sank down and sat on the top step, watching the moonlight flicker on the pond in front of him.

"No point running off and pickin a fight. Wot you gonna fight with out here, anyway, a rabid beaver?" Spike sighed and trudged back into the cabin, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He climbed the stairs and stood outside the master bedroom. His hand hovered over the handle, unsure whether or not to go in. "Suck it up, you ninny, she's gonna need you." With that, Spike slipped into the room. Stoking the fire, he added more logs to last the rest of the night. He glanced over at Buffy and took in her sleeping face. Scrubbing his hand tiredly over his face, the vampire stood and disappeared into the bathroom.

Stripping mechanically, Spike dropped his clothes on the floor, then stepped into the power shower and turned on the water. He rested his hands on the tiled wall, letting the water stream down his face. Dropping his head, the hot water poured down his back, easing the tension in his shoulders. Steam filled the room as he washed away the grime of the last few days. Spike missed having a shower in the crypt, but had never bothered to change anything in the gloomy tomb; there had been no point, he wanted to wallow in discomfort. He was secretly relieved that Buffy’s predicament had jolted him out of his despair over being chipped. But at the same time, felt guilty…

Wrapping a towel around his waist and using another to dry his hair, Spike sauntered into the bedroom.

"Better find something to wear, can't be exposing myself to you, can I, Slayer?" Spike commented as he pulled out a pair of boxers. Dropping the towel to reveal his muscled backside and legs, he bent and pulled on the cotton underwear.

"Hope you're not a blanket hog, luv," Spike continued his one sided conversation as he slipped under the covers. He carefully lay down. Turning on his side, he laid there watching his sleeping bedmate for several minutes until he drifted off into a deep sleep.

Buffy sighed in her sleep and rolled over, draping herself over his cool body. She snuggled her face into his neck, her lips resting over the healing cut that she had drank from earlier in the night.

*********

Buffy snorted and buried her face closer to the cool chest she was draped over. Spike's arms tightened around her in his sleep and cradled her close. Buffy yawned slightly and stretched, nuzzling her face against the hard wall of muscles.

"Mmm." She wriggled her feet between Spike's and sighed happily.

For several minutes there was silence, until she gradually woke. Raising her head sleepily, Buffy blinked in surprise at the sight of Spike's sleeping face. She could feel one of his hands under her nightshirt and pressed against the small of her back. She squeaked, embarrassed and confused as to why she was in Spike's arms and his bed.

Her little noise woke the male vampire and he yawned and opened his eyes. Spike froze at the sight of Buffy's alert, hazel eyes gazing up at him from her position on his chest.

"Buffy?" His voice rumbled in his chest, sending tingles down her spine.

"Spike? What's going on? Why are we all with the snuggles?" Buffy's voice trailed off as she began to remember. Her face paled even more and her eyes flashed lavender as her emotions got the better of her. "Oh, my God...no...no...no!" She began to struggle.

Spike's arms tightened around her slight form, he pulled her close, trying to soothe her. "Slayer, Buffy, luv, m' sorry, had no idea if I had I would've got there quicker." He whispered into her hair as she slumped against him, weeping.

"Spike, why? Why would Xander do this?" she wept.

"Dunno, pet." Spike was at a loss as to what to say or do.

"Oh, my God! I'm a vampire!" Buffy wailed.