Chapter 6: Blood is the Life

“Please,” Buffy said. “I need to do this.” She stroked his cheek lightly with her fingertips. Anything to make those marks disappear faster. It made her sick to think of the horror he’d been through at Drusilla’s hands.

Spike stared at her for a moment, as though trying to discern if she was for real. He tasted Drusilla’s blood on his tongue, and her words rang in his ears. What she’ll never give you.

But here she was, leaning over him so that her neck was within easy reach, her hair swept to one side. Spike wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Ignoring his aching body, he positioned her on his lap, straddling him, and eased her forward so she was lying on his chest. He ran one hand through her hair, cupping her head so that she couldn’t avoid his eyes.

“You’re sure?” he asked her, his voice ragged.

“Yeah,” she breathed, giving him a reassuring smile before closing her eyes as though bracing herself for the pain. He inclined his head, touching his cheek to hers, and then hesitantly began nuzzling the hollow of her neck. Parting his lips, he sucked gently on her skin, coaxing her blood to the surface. He slipped into his game face and sank his teeth into her flesh, drinking deeply as her beating heart pounded the blood through her body.

Buffy gasped at the initial pinprick of pain, but she was surprised at how gentle he was. She’d expected Spike to be rough, predatory – as if his attitude would be reflected in his bite. But it was soft, tender, and relatively painless – well, it kind of hurt, but it was a good hurt, which she so didn’t want to dwell on right now. His tongue lapping against her throat sent shivers down her spine, and the gentle pull of his mouth drawing in her blood sent a throbbing ache straight down to her groin. Her fingers twined through his curly, tousled hair, and without realizing it, Buffy let a small moan escape her lips.

Spike pulled back and his game face disappeared. “Hurt you, love?” he asked, concerned.

Buffy blushed furiously. “No…”

His lips curled into a grin. “Ah, I see. Naughty little Slayer.”

She thought about telling him to stop, but then his mouth closed over the bite again and his hands were digging into her sides, gripping her hard enough to leave bruises. Part of her wondered how he wasn’t screaming in pain from the chip, but she didn’t care, and she wanted more. She pressed her body against his, as if she could actually get into his skin if she pressed hard enough.

Slowly, she became aware of a sharp bulge nudging against her thigh. Oh, God, he’s… Before she had time to process what she was doing, she was moving ever so slightly up and down against him, matching the rhythm of her pounding heart as it sent her blood coursing through his eager lips.

She’s getting off on it, he thought, marveling at the glorious creature writhing above him. He felt himself spiraling out of control, losing himself in his ideal fantasy. If only their clothes weren’t in the way, and if only – he gasped in pain – if only he weren’t quite so sore down there… Not that it seemed to matter, because he was swollen to bursting, and about thirty seconds away from coming in his pants like a fourteen-year-old boy. He was getting dizzy from the pain and the pleasure and the blood; he was drowning in it, drowning in her.

Then, he felt it. That first skipped – Shit. Without hesitation, he lifted her off his lap and rolled her roughly onto the bed next to him. She looked up at him, dazed and breathless, startled by the abrupt ending, and a little bit like she expected him to pounce on top of her and rip her clothes off. When he didn’t, neither of them spoke, both panting heavily, though only she needed to. He listened intently, his panic easing only after he heard her heartbeat return to a fast but steady pace.

Buffy’s insides churned. What was she thinking? Maybe she wasn’t thinking – it was kind of foggy up there in the brain area. As opposed to the crystal-clear message coming from down below – why did you stop? Guess men weren’t the only ones who thought with their sexual organs.

She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She’d ended up getting in much deeper than she’d intended to go. It wasn’t letting him bite her that bothered her; she really did want to help. But it wasn’t supposed to get so intense, so intimate. She hadn’t expected to feel so… She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, wondering how much more awkward things could possibly get.

Finally, Spike said, “Well, that cinches it.” When Buffy gave him a questioning look, he explained, “I am now officially a disgrace to all vampires and evil everywhere.” She giggled, and a fair amount of tension melted away, breaking the ice between them.

“Well, look at me.” He leaned back against the headboard. “Here I am, with the Slayer in my grasp, could drain her dry if I wanted, and I stopped.” Barely, he thought; but if she didn’t realize it, he wasn’t about to point it out to her. “I’m losing my edge, Slayer.”

Buffy giggled again. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not exactly the Watcher’s Council’s poster child for proper Slayer behavior.”

“Slayer who gets off on being bitten? Wouldn’t think so.”

Buffy glared at him, her cheeks flushed. “I – I meant taking care of you. Letting you stay here. Not killing you. Though I’m reconsidering that last one,” she added, just to wipe the smirk off his face.

It didn’t work. “After all the trouble you went through to save me?” he said. “It’d be a bit of a waste, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t push your luck.” She pushed herself up off the bed and tried to cover the fact that her legs were a little wobbly. “You need anything? Blankets? Book to read? Stakes and holy water?”

“You expectin’ me to do myself in?”

Buffy shrugged. “Well, it would make my job easier.”

Spike gave her a patronizing smile, but his eyes twinkled. “Anything for you, pet.”

*****

“Dawn?” Buffy called for her sister as she shrugged on her jacket and pocketed a stake. Dawn’s head appeared at the top of the stairs. “I’m going to the Magic Box.”

“How come?” Dawn’s body followed her head around the corner, and she came down the steps.

“Scooby meeting. Just debriefing stuff. You stay here, okay?” Dawn started to grumble, but Buffy cut her off. “Spike could probably use some blood. Look out for him until I get back, all right?”

Dawn nodded, pleased to have a task and relieved that Buffy was finally letting her see Spike.

“I won’t be long,” Buffy said, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. It cascaded over her shoulders and, more importantly, covered the bite mark on her neck. If Dawn had noticed the mark, she didn’t bring it up.

She was the last one to arrive at the Magic Box. Willow and Tara were collapsed in chairs at the research table, Anya perched on the stairs, and Giles leaned casually against the display counter.

“You guys okay?” Buffy asked the witches.

“We’re fine,” said Willow. “Just a little tired.”

“Too much magic.” Tara rested her head on the tabletop, and Willow reached out to stroke her hair. Buffy noticed that Tara’s left wrist was wrapped in an ace bandage.

“Tara, what happened?”

Tara lifted her head and looked down at her wrist. “Oh, it’s just a sprain. One of the vamps grabbed me. I’ll be all right.”

Buffy looked to Giles next. One side of his face was turning purple, and he had a big gash across his cheek. “How about you?” she asked. “You went all Braveheart on us.”

Giles’ face broke into a reluctant, embarrassed smile. “I’m fine, Buffy. Thank you.”

“Thanks, you guys.” Buffy turned her head to include Xander, who appeared to be sulking in the corner, refusing to meet her gaze. She guessed he was probably having second thoughts about agreeing to help.

“How is Spike?” Giles asked her.

“He’s okay. Better than he was this morning.”

“Any idea who was behind it? Or what they wanted?”

Buffy nodded. “Drusilla. She… wanted Spike. And to kill me, I guess.”

“And she’s oh for two,” Willow crowed. “That’ll show her.”

“Yeah, also… she’s dead.”

“Well, I say,” Giles grinned, and a proud chuckle escaped his lips. “That is a job awfully well done, Buffy.”

She couldn’t bear to correct him. How could she possibly explain the depth of what Spike had done, how it had affected him? How would they react to the incredible expression of love he’d shown for her? Buffy cast her eyes downward, in what her friends took to be a show of modesty. “Yeah.”

*****

Dawn knocked on the bedroom door, a mug of warm blood in her hand. “Spike?”

“Come on in, Niblet.”

She eased the door open and saw him sitting in bed, remote control in hand. She swallowed hard, taking in his battered appearance. Whatever Drusilla had done to him, she’d been vicious about it. “Whatcha watching?”

“Rubbish,” he said, flicking the TV off. She was still hovering in the doorway. “Come sit with me.”

Dawn held out the mug. “I brought you some blood.”

“You’re a doll.” He chugged the contents as she took a hesitant seat on the edge of the bed. Peering at her over the rim of the mug, he sensed something was wrong. “You all right, pet?”

She nodded, her eyes on her hands folded in her lap. “Yeah.”

He reached one hand out and lifted her chin. “Hey… hey.” She looked away, trying to avoid his eyes.

Spike sighed and placed the mug on the night table. “Look, I’m sorry, Bit. I should’ve… I shouldn’t have had you with me. It was stupid, I didn’t –”

Dawn shook her head. “Don’t.”

He leaned closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. “God, they didn’t – they didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Her lower lip quivered. “No.”

“I’m sorry, pet.”

“Don’t say that!” She pulled away from him, and her eyes started to well with tears. Spike furrowed his brow in confusion. “I left you. They didn’t hurt me. They didn’t want me. They took you, and I let them!”

Spike’s mouth dropped open. “No… no, no, no, Dawnie.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a comforting hug. “You did the right thing. You went and got Buffy. There was nothing else you could’ve done for me.”

Dawn looked at him then, her fingers grazing his skin, tracing the line of one of the cuts on his face, unaware that she was mimicking her sister’s earlier gesture. “They hurt you. So badly that Buffy wouldn’t even let me see you.”

“Nothing you could’ve done, sweet bit.” He pulled her close again, and she curled up on the bed next to him, nestled in the crook of his arm, using his chest as a pillow.

*****

“Hey, maybe Dru was our girl.”

“What do you mean, Will?” Buffy stopped her nervous pacing around the magic shop.

“Maybe Drusilla was the one summoning the demons.”

“She did assemble the Judge,” Giles pointed out. “And Acathla.”

“I think Acathla was mostly Angelus,” said Buffy. “But even so, those were more… you know, big ending-the-world types. These demons seem too… ordinary. I don’t know, maybe it was her. That’d certainly be nice. I’ll ask Spike about –” She unconsciously brushed her hair back off her shoulder, realizing her mistake when Xander gasped.

“Xander, it’s… it’s okay.” She reached up to cover the mark with her hand. “Spike…”

“Spike? Buffy, you let him bite you?!” Pulling her hand away, he grasped her chin roughly and turned her head so he could inspect her neck. “What were you thinking?”

“It’s not – it isn’t what it looks like,” she said, finding herself getting very defensive. “It helps him. He needs it.” She figured she shouldn’t mention the part about how good it felt. Even so, Xander didn’t look convinced. Neither, for that matter, did the others.

“What do you mean, it helps him?” Tara asked.

Buffy turned to Giles with pleading eyes. “Human blood is best for a wounded vampire,” Giles admitted. “And a Slayer… well, there are some healing properties that could have an almost medicinal effect for a vampire.”

“Oh, well, good then,” said Xander, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “As long as we’re helping the vampire. Anybody remember when they were the bad guys?”

Willow sighed. The righteous indignation act was getting tiresome. “Come on, Xander. It’s Spike.”

Xander started to argue, but Buffy cut him off, her voice quiet. “He saved my life.”

The others looked at her. “What?” said Giles.

Buffy took a deep breath. “Drusilla. She… she could have killed me. Was about to. Spike dusted her.”

The Scoobies were shocked, to say the least. “Oh, my God, Buffy, that’s huge,” Willow said, the awe evident in her voice. “Do you know what that means?”

“Drusilla was his sire,” said Giles. “And his lover.”

Xander refused to budge. “Great, so Spike dusted his girlfriend. That doesn’t give him the right to feed off you, Buff.”

“He only took what he needed. He didn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t.”

“Nevertheless, Buffy, you must be careful,” Giles warned. “You both must know when to stop. You can’t let Spike weaken you, even if it’s unintentional.”

“I won’t.”

“You mean you’re planning on doing it again?” said Xander.

“If he needs me to.” Buffy shot him a defiant glare. “I think this meeting is over.” She started to go, but stopped at the door. “Thanks again for everything, you guys.” This time, she didn’t include Xander in her gaze. She spun on her heel and headed outside.

Willow followed her. “Buffy, I want to help.”

“What do you mean, Will?”

“I – I mean, if it will help – Giles said human blood is best, right?” She looked back at the Magic Box as if for confirmation, then back to Buffy. “Spike could… if he needed to… drink me.”