Italics-thoughts



A clatter of rocks-- knocked loose by the stumbled steps of a weary fighter-- was all that signalled his fleeting passage through the silent caves.

A long fingered, bloodstained hand slapped against the rough stone wall, trying to steady its owner during its escape. Leaving an indelible mark for his hunters to find. The stolen sword was claimed as the spoils of war in one of the many encounters with the minions of that amorphous evil who delighted in plaguing its latest prey. It clattered to the floor as its new owner's strength flagged. There was a faint groan and the soft thud of a body collapsing on the hard stone floor.

In the darkness of the cave there was safety for the moment, a chance to rest.

To recharge and brace for the next fight, one that would be coming all too soon.

*******

"There is no way that another Aurelian vampire is getting between the thighs of a Slayer in this dimension," the bat faced Master of the clan seethed. He had heard tales of Angel and the Slayer from his minions and his stomach still roiled in disgust over it. Even if the idiot did manage to get rid of that insipid soul because of the quick screw, Nest knew it would've been a short moment from the less than complimentary remarks Darla had made over the years about her long lost childe's stamina.

"Not only is it disgusting, but it's humiliating that a vampire from one of the oldest and most exalted lines would even consider it. You would think that both of them would know better than to play with their food."

The trio of newly turned vampires watched as their grandsire paced back and forth, muttering under his breath.

Warren nudged Jonathon hard in the ribs. "You had to go tell him about Paingelus and Buffy, didn't you?"

The smaller fledging shuffled away from the curly haired vampire who had once impressed him so much. But now...now he just irritated the hell out of him. Jonathon glanced around the room and wondered why he had ended up here and how could he get away from them all without being killed.

Again.

Andrew stared at Warren with a sickly look of adoration and lust in his amber eyes. Of the three of the nerds, he was the one who had the hardest time keeping his human face. Most of the time the skinny blond vampire's face was flickering between his two visages, much to his sire's amusement.

In life he had been a loser, and now in death he was continuing along the same path. One thing about Andrew that Jonathon had learned was that he was a vicious vampire, with a fascination for Warren that bordered on freaky kinky in Jonathon's book.

The littlest vampire sighed. He wondered why even in the vampiric world he didn't fit in.

*****

Spike lay still, his arms wrapped around the scrap of a girl that was the Slayer, Buffy. He was still wondering how he had managed to end up curled around her warm slender body. One moment she had barely registered on his radar and then...then...he was sitting talking to her on the porch. Something within him had been brought into focus with the first brush of Anne's lips on his startled ones. Never before had he been kissed and had the reaction that he had had.

To be honest, her attempt at seduction had evoked the same reaction he had had towards his newly turned mother and her twisted attempt at seducing him. Sheer horror that a family member was interested in him sexually, Spike nodded to himself. That was it. Anne was the little sister he had never had, and for her to kiss him in a less than sisterly way was, as Dawn would say, 'wig worthy'.

Spike stifled the sigh that threatened to erupt from his lips. He didn't want to wake Buffy, didn't want to end the sense of rightness he had achieved by taking her slender form into his arms. The sigh he had managed to repress was for Anne and the inevitable talk that he would have to have with his friend.

Spike had no idea how he was going to manage it - he'd never had to do the 'lets be friends' chat ever in his life or unlife. When he was poncey William, if a girl, any girl had kissed him, Spike suspected that there would've been an embarrassing mess to clean up in the trouser department. Spike mentally shuddered at the thought of premature ejaculation of any sort. He knew also that if William had ever been kissed there would've never been the 'lets be best pals' talk, instead the poetry writing nit probably
would have written a Homeric epic for his girl and then bored her to tears with his recitation of the epic poem. No, William would never have even considered the ‘I like you but not in that way’ chat, he would've been too ruddy grateful a bird had snogged him.

Spike closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sad image of Anne after he had pulled away in horror from her tentative kiss. He hated himself for hurting her, but it had to be done.

She was...no, is a friend, nothing more and nothing less. He silently hoped that if they chatted out their differences today, then maybe he would be able to salvage a modicum of their friendship. Somehow he doubted that either of them would ever be as at ease as they had been before. Anne had changed everything with the first touch of her lips on his. They would never be able to go back to the easy camaraderie they’d had.

One thing he had to thank her for, though, was that her fumbled attempt at seducing him had brought into sharp focus the feelings he had for Buffy. The realisation that it was the wrong lips that had been pressed against his own in the cemetery that night.

He wanted someone else’s soft full lips kissing him.

**********

The stench of dried sweat and vomit curdled Tara's stomach. The rancid scents were oozing out of every pore of Willow's sleeping body. Tara stared up at their bed. She hadn't been able to bring herself to crawl into it next to Willow. Not when she had been suffering so much. Abusing magic had consequences and Willow was learning the painful way. In the deepest recesses of her soul, Tara was slightly relieved that Willow was learning that magic wasn't a toy-- and it shamed her. She hated to see her Willowtree suffering, but Tara hoped that when she’d recovered, a harsh lesson would've been learned.

She rolled onto her side and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. The blonde Wiccan was exhausted; she had spent most of the night tending to Willow. But also researching through her own and Willow's books for something to give her an idea as to what was wrong with Spike. She pushed the pang of guilt aside, and tried not to focus on how badly she felt at not trying to get to the bottom of it earlier for Spike’s sake.

Tara knew he would be hurt at being sidelined. He was very much a kindred spirit to her in that respect, both of them on the periphery of the Scoobie group-- along with Anya—just looking in. All of them very much on the outskirts, and yet they stayed despite the ache of not being central in the hearts and minds of the ones they loved. All of them used to it and accepting it, as long as there was some respite from their significant others. She and Anya were lucky; Willow and Xander did love them. But Spike's love for Buffy-- which he had worn on his sleeve for all to see if they so chose to look-- had been unreciprocated. But she wondered if that were really so. There was something in the air; the gentle wiccan could sense it. It was new and tentative but strong despite the magical impediments between them. Tara suspected that Buffy and Spike had reached some sort of accord in the budding relationship that had stalled on the Slayer's death.

Tara rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling; the hardwood floor was starting to make her bones ache. She hoped that he would forgive her. Spike had a special spot in her heart, ever since he had very carefully punched her in the nose to prove she was not a demon. Tara at the time had realised that he had pulled the punch so as not to make her nose bleed or even swell. Despite his brash exterior, Spike was a gentleman. Tara grinned at the imagined reaction of the vampire if she ever told him what she really thought of him.

"Tara, it hurts." Willow's exhausted voice jarred Tara from her Spike pondering. She sat up tiredly and pushed her hair off her face.

"Willow, sweetie, what can I do?"

"Hot...so… hot..." Willow's feverish face was plastered with wisps of her hair. The rest of her fine red hair was soaked with her sweat and stuck to her skull. Red spots were the only colour on her pallid cheeks. She stared up at Tara hopefully.

Tara reached down and gently pulled the bedclothes loose from Willow's clenched fists. "How about a cool shower? Would that help?"

Willow nodded. The thought of water washing away her magical sins filled her with anticipation. She kicked the bedclothes off her legs and reached upwards with her thin hands. Tara smiled at the childlike image her Willow was unconsciously projecting. She helped the shivering redhead up and together they staggered for the bathroom.

Tara pushed the toilet lid down and helped Willow to sit. "Stay there, sweetie, until I get the shower going."

Willow nodded tiredly and closed her eyes. Minute tremors shook her body as she swayed tiredly. "Was Amy here last night?" Willow whispered. She dimly remembered Amy's angry voice and the smell of powerful magics, but wasn't sure if it had been a hallucination.

Tara's full mouth tightened as she spun the taps. The memory of Amy's magicks were still ever-present; the dirty sensation of the dark magics the rat-witch had tried to poison Willow with still cloyed at her senses. Even as she had netted and repelled them back at Willow's old high school friend, Tara had felt ill from their presence in her life. She wondered if she would ever feel clean again.

"Tara?" Willow's querulous voice pulled the distraught Wiccan back to the present. Willow scratched at her arms; something was crawling just under the skin, wanting to wriggle its way to the surface. She scratched harder, trying to get rid of the icky feelings.

"She came over, but I got her to leave." Tara turned to face Willow, a look of determination filling her usually gentle eyes. "Willow, I really don't like her. I hope you won't let her into the house or near any of us again?"

Tara knew she should be stronger and demand that Willow never saw or talked to Amy again, but that went against her nature. She had never imposed her will on anyone and never would. She prayed to Gaia that Willow would see sense and avoid the witch.

Without hesitation, Willow nodded. There was something about Amy that was gross and dirty. She wanted nothing to do with her ever again. Even thought the dark haired witch had taken her to Rack's. She had fun there, the magical games and visions had been wild, but Willow could still feel the magic broker's lecherous gaze on her body and also the ghostlike touch of his fingers on her flesh, but she was sure that was just part of her hallucinations. Well, she was more than happy to hope it had been.

"Come on, Willow," Tara's soft voice was a soothing balm to her ears. Willow felt Tara’s hands on her own and let herself be pulled up. She raised her arms and felt her soaked nightie being pulled over her head. Wriggling out of her panties, Willow opened her eyes and stared at the shower longingly.

She just wanted to feel clean again, part of her wondered if she ever would.


**************

For the first time he could recall, Spike was content. The scents of the sleeping girl in his arms were intoxicating him to the ninth degree. She felt like she had always been there in his unlife and Spike was beginning to realise that there was more to this than met the eye. Spike silently railed against the magic geas that was placed on him, preventing him from remembering and feeling whatever it was that had been taken from him without his consent. Citrine sparks bled into his blue eyes, a startling counterpoint to the usual azure as frustration filled him. He wanted to remember it all, the good with the bad, he didn't care. Spike wanted to have it all back, and also he wanted to bite the git who had cast the spell on him.

It wasn't as cold and painful as it usually was when she woke alone. Buffy feigned sleep, unwilling to be parted from his arms. Sometime in the night she had managed to get his t-shirt off his body. Her flushed cheek rested on his hard chest and with each breath she took in and then exhaled a warm draft of air flew across his hardened nipple. She snuggled closer, inhaling the clean scents of skin. It was an Woodsy scent with shades of cloves and cinnamon, intermixed with the ever present cigarette smoke and whiskey. All of which made her mouth water and her groin ache.

She still didn't like Anne; she had macked on her vampire. That was the topping on the cake for Buffy. From the moment Willow and the others had wrenched her back to this hellhole, Anne had been shoved in her face. The scarred Slayer taunting her with her fighty goodness and the easy way she fit into her life. Taking over her room, Dawn, slaying and Spike. Buffy tried to be a good girl and push down the seething hatred that roiled around in her stomach, managing to subdue the green eyed monster a little.

It was only Spike’s arms and body that were able to calm the burgeoning storm within her. She snuggled closer, basking in the comfort that was him.

Spike felt her move closer and threw his leg over her hip and curled it around her legs, powering her closer to him. For one heady terrifying moment he waited for her rejection, for the physical rejection of her fists and the poison to pour from her mouth. Instead, nothing but acceptance, that ease of intimacy that he had never experienced with any of his previous two lovers-- Dru and Harm. He mentally grimaced at the memory of the latter. She had tried to snuggle her Blondie Bear often enough, but he’d rejected her advances.

He inhaled the sleeping Slayer’s unique scents and tried not to moan over the sensation of his hard cock pressing up against her mound. She was making him re-write his mental rulebook, top of the list ‘don’t fall for your mortal enemy’, and yet here he was. Spike was sure there was something more to all of this, something that the effing spell had made him forget. If indeed it had been love before he’d been meddled with, Spike was not surprised that the budding feelings he was having for her now were there again. He was always the rebel. If he had been in love with the precious bundle clinging to him, then even with someone’s interference he was starting to love her again, and it felt right. He liked it.

He’d always thumbed his nose at convention.

Spike had made his own path through unlife by rejecting what was expected of him. Instead of being a bastard like Angelus, he’d loved Dru with every fibre of his being, when all other childer would’ve either dusted her or left her in the dirt once the dependence on the sire had worn off. Even Spike could admit that Dru was one sick puppy.

She had been his Princess, worshipped and adored. All through his unlife he had done the opposite of what was expected. Get chipped and he goes to the ruddy Scoobies for help instead of surrounding himself with peons and minions to do his hunting. Oh no, he had done the extraordinary. Much like actively seeking out slayers to fight and kill, this time instead of killing he asked for help from a group of misfits that where her support group. That had somehow lead to this, the sleeping girl curled trustingly up in his arms. ‘Who was a big faker, she’s awake.’ Spike smirked and tucked her head under his chin.

The warmth of her exhaled breath on his throat was too much. He couldn’t help it, he groaned.

Buffy giggled nervously. All of this was so new, so different. Usually it was ‘Spike bad,’ hit him on nose and make with the quippy exit. Even though she felt torn between, ‘ewwww vampy bits poking me and num, happy Spike bit poking me,’ Buffy was happy. For the first time in a long while, she felt at peace and happy with a man.

And weirdly it wasn’t scaring her.

“You finished faking, luv?” Spike rumbled. His hands were trailing up and down her back, learning her sleek curves. A warm tingle began at the pit of his stomach and began to fill his being. Unable to resist, Spike brushed a kiss across the crown of her head, prompting Buffy to gasp and the peek up through her lashes at him, her mossy green eyes filled with questions and escalating arousal.

“Morning.” Buffy gave a kittenish yawn. She stretched against his body as best she could, not wanting to leave his embrace, nor lose the warmth his touch was inciting in her goose-pimpled skin. Hesitantly she allowed her hands to slide up his side, silently noting the wriggle. ‘Mental note, Spike’s ticklish.’ Then she rested the palms of her hands on his chest, each sleep warmed palm resting over his hardened nipples.

“Morning.” Spike’s eyes darkened to a navy as he felt himself twitch against the zipper of his jeans. ‘She’s gonna burn holes in me with her heat.’

There was a pause as the two of them eyed each other.

“Well, this is awkward,” Buffy muttered. She was itching to check her hair for bedhead and also was worried she’d drooled on him.

“Yeah,” Spike smirked and then grabbed the Slayer by the horns…well lips.

The kiss was soft and slow, each mapping out the other’s lips with their teeth and tongues. Then Buffy took the initiative; she dipped her tongue into his cool mouth with a happy sigh.

Spike growled at the tentative brush of her warm tongue against his teeth, then his entire spine fused. Unable to stop himself he felt his face starting to shift and change. Her tongue was cautiously prodding against gums, teasing his hidden fangs. With a purring growl he vamped out at her innocent teasing, his sharp fangs inadvertantly puncturing into her lower lip.

Buffy twitched at the slight sting and then relaxed against him, her fingers curling and uncurling on his chest as Spike sucked her wounded lip into his mouth and soothed it with his tongue. His eyes nearly crossed at the potent combination of Slayer blood laced with arousal. His body shook with the small infusion of her sweet essence.

Pulling back with a gasp, he threw his head back and moaned. His hips jerking repeatedly against hers as he did something he’d never done since becoming a vampire.

“Christ on a pogo stick,” he panted as he came back to earth.

“Spike?” Buffy whispered, her eyes wide with shock.

“Gimme a sec here, love,” he mumbled as he tried to gather his scrambled wits. He’d come in his pants like a teenager, from the small taste of her blood.

“Sure.” She wriggled her hips away from his, knowing that he was trying to get his body under control. Secretly, Buffy was squealing with glee. She’d never had that kind of effect on anyone before. She smothered the incipient grin against the side of his pale throat and then allowed it to become a smirk, one that Spike would find very familiar. It was a mirror image of his own trademarked smirk.

Spike blinked his eyes lazily and then caught her lips in a long, hard kiss.

Both lovers were consumed by the heady kiss, unaware of the camera hidden behind one of the bars of the metal headboard, relaying everything back to the horrified eyes of their enemy.

“That is truly disgusting,” the Master growled. He ran his taloned hands over his face, as if trying to wipe away the images burned on his retinas. “Willow, come here and attend to me,” he bellowed, loosening his belt and letting his cock slip out. He may be disgusted by the sight, but he was still turned on by it.

Warren’s eyes were riveted on Buffy’s undulating body. “Mannn she’s hot. I can’t wait to chain her down and make her bleed.” He giggled manically. “Jeez, that Spike’s a lightweight creaming his pants like…well…like Andrew.” He shot a nasty smirk over at the game-faced sycophant wriggling in his seat next to him. “Like what you see, asswipe?”

“Yeah, he’s…I mean, she’s hot.” Andrew’s amber eyes were caressing Spike’s body as he licked his fangs over and over, imagining that it were he in the blond vampire’s arms.

Jonathon said nothing; instead, he turned to his keyboards and checked the streams from the other cameras set up at various locations. In the background he could hear the Master grunting as he pumped into his wicked childe’s eager mouth.

This unlife as a vampire was making him sick.

A/N Shameless begging for commenty goodness we would love to hear what you all though? Thank you ^_^