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Strip Snap by Lilachigh
 
Chp 26 Mine!
 
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Strip Snap



Chp : Mine!



"Demon – listen to me – do you know me? My name’s Buffy. I’m – I’m a friend of Spike and William. And I need your help! We all need your help."

As Buffy reached out again to take Demon’s hand, Spike groaned and dragged himself closer to the cage. He could feel whatever force kept him alive draining out of him. All he was now was a shell, an empty vessel echoing in a terror of loneliness without William and Demon to keep him company. But he had to get to his girl; someone had to protect her from Demon, protect Demon from her, and there was no response from William – his grip on this world seemed even lighter than Spike’s.

"Demon!" Her voice was suddenly gentle – and Spike felt tears glaze his eyes. When had she ever been gentle with him? There was a note of something in her tone – he crawled another foot – then stopped, his limbs refusing to work.

"Demon – please answer me. I know you’re afraid but you have to help us. All of us."

And Spike knew what the elusive note was – tenderness.

"Sssslayer!"

Buffy tried not to flinch as the yellow, feral eyes blazed up into hers from amongst the long, dirty hair. She felt a surge of pity for this creature; it was so lost, so scared, so helpless. Except, of course, it wasn’t. She knew very well that those jagged fingernails would take out her eyes in a slashing second, that the broken fangs would fasten on her neck and drain her blood in a moment.

She forced herself to stay calm. "OK, yes, Slayer here, but still a friend to William and Spike. And you."

With the power of his will alone, Spike raised his head and forced himself forward one more time. If he could just reach William – "Buffy!" His voice was no more than a croak. "Don’t get too close. He doesn’t understand – he – "

Demon twisted suddenly and stood up, crouching now against the basement wall. Buffy started to move away, then hesitated and forced herself to remain still. She held out her hand, palm upwards and with a thrill of horror, watched as he reached out, took her hand and lifted it to his nose to sniff her skin.

She felt herself beginning to tremble and slowly reached behind her back to where a stake was jammed into her waistband. One wrong move and she’d –

Then she shuddered. Demon’s tongue had slid out and he was licking her palm. And it was Spike’s tongue and William’s, but hot, not cold. Burning, tracing a pattern on her skin in heat the way the other two had done with cold.

She couldn’t pull her hand away, and with a sensation of horror she realised she didn’t want to. Of all the things that had happened to her recently, this was the most terrifying; her body reacting in the same way to Demon as it did to Spike and William. Her blood speaking to his as it did to theirs.

The shaggy head lifted, the yellow eyes burnt into hers. "Slayer – demon," it hissed. "Mine!"

Buffy shuddered. "Yes, Demon, yours. Now will you help me?"

"Buffy!" Spike had reached the cage and was lying slumped over William’s body. "You need to do the charm soon. I don’t think we’re going to hold out long."

"I’m trying! He’s – I don’t know if he understands what I’m saying. Spike, I need you to help."

William was floating in a dark, empty place. Far away he could hear a voice calling to him, but he couldn’t hear what it was saying or who it was. He was lost – there was that dreadful understanding that he should be somewhere, with someone and not knowing who. He knew he loved, ached with love for – for – for the others! Yes, that was it, the other brothers that made him whole. He was lost but they were looking for him…

Spike cupped William’s face in his hands, running his fingers over the closed lids. “Wake up, William! Bloody well, wake up! You can sleep when this is all over. Demon needs you. We both need you, so sodding well, open your eyes!”

Suspended in nothing, William could hear the voice he trusted the most calling to him. But he was so tired; he just wanted to sleep and sleep. He must have stayed out so late at Cecily’s party last night. Mother would be cross if he didn’t wake up. It was Sunday. They were due at church and still the voice wouldn’t let him rest.

He was needed, he had to fight, he couldn’t sleep because – because Spike needed him to be awake.

With a moan he forced himself upwards, through the dark clinging webs of half death that were trying to pull him down. But there was the face he knew so well, peering down at him, hard fingers patting his face, bright blue eyes shadowed but concerned – and with a gasp he was back and so were his memories of what had happened.

“Spike - Demon?”

“Alive, but I don’t know for how long. Buffy needs us three to be conscious. We’ve got to do the charm again.”

William clambered to his feet, swaying violently, but pushing aside Spike’s help. “Leave me! Take care of yourself. I can stand. But I fear I am not long for this world. Mother will be so upset if I fail to return. We have proved a great disappointment to her, brother!”

Spike laughed, then draped his arm over William’s shoulders and turned to Buffy and Demon. “Stand back, pet. We’ll take care of him. Get the bloody charm ready – quick.”

Buffy gazed into the dark blue eyes she loved, then into the softer sapphire gaze that she liked and admired. “I’ll be as fast as I can. We’ll bring all Willow’s paraphernalia down here. Just hold on – all of you.”

She turned to leave, but with a speed that took them all by surprise, Demon shot out a bony arm and caught her left arm just below the shoulder. “Mine!” he hissed, glaring at the other two, defying them.

There was a long pause, and then Spike slowly lifted his hand, linked it with William‘s and covered Demon’s fingers where they dug into Buffy’s flesh. He and William took another step forward and now they surrounded her. “No – Ours!” he stated flatly.

Buffy fought to keep the pain from showing on her face. Her arm had gone numb and she could no longer feel the fingers of her left hand. She was being held so tightly it hurt; three people were standing so close to her she couldn’t move. She could feel the soft fabric of Spike’s T-shirt, the ripple of the muscles moving under it. The weight of William’s thigh was against hers and in front of her, huddled under the old blanket, Demon’s golden eyes gleamed.

And without thinking, she raised her right hand, placed it on top of theirs and said with all the passion that flowed in her Slayer blood, “Mine!”

To be continued


 
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