Unreal Together by dawnofme
 
 
Chapter #1 - Welcome Back
 
a/n: The lovely banner below was made by alwaysjbj. Betas: spikesdeb and slaymesoftly. Thank you, ladies. All types of reviews are welcome.



Chapter One: Welcome Back

The motorcycle roared down the deserted two lane highway. The helmeted rider hunched down low with the moon reflecting off his brown leather bomber, leaned to the right and took the Sunnydale exit. He slowly made his way through the twisting, poorly planned streets and came to a stop at Restfield Cemetery where he tossed the helmet down, grateful that he wouldn't need it now that he was back where the police looked the other way.

Spike ran his hands through his platinum hair and dismounted. He stomped his boots and jumped up and down to get things flowing again. It had been a long road trip starting at sundown and before that, eighteen hours in the cargo hold of a plane. What he needed was a bit of kip in his own bed.

He opened the crypt door and was annoyed to find that it no longer creaked. How would he tell if some undesirable was sneaking in? Clem house sat a little too well. The place was spotless, except for the snack bowl and cup on the end table. All his lovely cobwebs were gone.

“Clem!” No answer. “Must be out playing poker,” Spike muttered. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it on the chair and went to the fridge. Yogurt, butter, RC Cola and a jar of green olives. What did he expect? It's not like he had called ahead and warned the guy that he was going to be in the neighborhood.

He ventured downstairs expecting to find the space cleaned like the upper lever, but it was in still in shambles. Debris and odds and ends were piled onto the comforter and he had to step over rubble to get to it. He rolled the comforter with all the junk off the bed to land with a muted thud. The sheets beneath were clean but musty. They'd do for now. He was too tired to care.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He slowly came to consciousness hours later, hearing activity above him. It was most likely Clem, but he was cautious just in case. He poked his head up through the opening. Clem's back was to him and the demon was singing off key. The scent of pine hit him and he gagged, but Clem was oblivious because he had headphones on. Spike frowned; Clem was so trusting. Any creature could come in here and attack.

It was surprising that the demon hadn't croaked a long time ago with his poor survival skills. Clem was humming and scrubbing the makeshift counter with a sponge. Spike tapped him on the shoulder, which he realized was a big mistake when Clem screamed and tossed the open bottle of pine-sol up and behind him. The bottle hit Spike on the face and the contents ran down his front, soaking his t-shirt.

“Spike! Wow, I'm sorry man.” Clem got a towel and held it out for him. “It's good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Spike grimaced while using the towel to mop himself up, then tossed it on the ledge.

“I wasn't expecting you, but I'm glad you're back.” Clem looked at Spike with kind and sympathetic eyes. It made Spike very uncomfortable. He followed the demon to the couch and sat with him. Clem settled in the seat and adjusted the folds of skin on one arm before asking, “Are you here to see the Slayer?”

“No. I wasn't planning on coming back so soon, if at all. Had some crazy things go down in Africa. Two days ago I got a funny feeling.” Clem looked confused, maybe a little sad, but Spike continued. “My blood was calling to me and I answered. It led me back here.”

“I thought maybe you heard about the Slayer.” Clem shook his head slowly. “It's a pity really, because she's the only one who would watch Knight Rider with me.”

“What happened to Buffy?” Spike was on the edge of his seat now, with his fists clenched.

Clem flinched at the violence in the vampire's eyes. “See that's the thing. Nobody knows for sure. She disappeared four days ago and no one's heard from her since. Word on the street is she’s dead.” Clem held up his hands when Spike growled low. It was obviously time to go. “Don't kill the messenger.” He got up and put his winkled arms out wide. “I'll just leave you for the time being. I'll come back tomorrow and see how you're doing.”

Spike stood too. “No. Stay here if you want. I've got to go out and I appreciate what you did here, keeping my place.” He grabbed his jacket off the chair and made for the door.

“She asked about you all the time, you know.” Spike turned at Clem's soft words and stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. “Buffy. She came here at least once a week. She played it off like she just wanted to watch classic TV with me, but I know better. She always managed to ask after you. Had I heard from you? Did I know where you were?” Clem shrugged. “I hope you find her.”

Spike gave him a slight nod and hurried towards his bike.

Revello Drive was a deceptively quiet street with its quaint little houses and typical American families tucked safely inside for the night. He walked the bike and parked it a couple of houses down, wanting to keep his options open. Using his ingrained vampire skills, he moved with stealth to the backyard. He rounded the corner with the purpose of finding an open window, only to be pulled up short by what he saw. It was a good thing he didn't have a heart.

There she was. Strangely enough, she was doing the same thing he had intended to do. The light from inside the house cast a surreal glow on her concerned face. Muted voices drifted from the open windows. She was crouched down low like she was trying to avoid being detected, her faded, light blue jeans dirty and her wispy brown top frayed and torn in places. Her blond hair was dragged up in a messy pony tail.

Spike watched her from around the corner having no idea what he should do next. His relief at seeing her there almost overcame his belief that she couldn't possibly feel the same. He hung his head, and the guilt was so heavy, he didn't think he could walk if he tried. He clung to the side of the house and squeezed his eyes shut.

The voices inside got louder as they came closer to the open window on his side of the house.

Dawn was in hysterics and he winced when she spoke. “It's not true. She's out there and she needs our help.”

“I'm sorry Dawn, but the Council, they just know these things,” Giles said in a soft soothing voice.

“Well, they're so wrong!” Dawn was shouting, obviously distressed.

“Then where is she?” Xander's voice cracked. “I'm not one to believe those guys, but we haven't heard from her in days. If she was alive, she'd find a way to contact us.”

“The Council has no reason to lie. We have to do some thing for Faith if we can't help Buffy.” Giles hated himself, even as he spoke.

“Tell me again why we need to help her? She tried to kill Buffy and she's went to the dark side.” Xander complained.

“Buffy. That's why. She wouldn't want them to kill her. No matter how bad things got between them, Faith is still a slayer. In fact, she's the only slayer now; but if what I overheard is right, maybe not for much longer. The Council is talking about eliminating her to get a more...shall we say cooperative slayer activated.”

“That makes sense. If...I'm saying “if” here...If Buffy is dead and Faith is the only slayer alive, the world's in a whole heap of trouble.”

Outside, Spike stared at Buffy, who made no move to go in and correct their belief that she was dead. Dawn was sniffling and he could hear her walking away. The others followed and he could no longer make out their words. Buffy backed away slowly, staying in the shadows until she was at the gate, but she didn't go far. He could see her through the gaps in the wooden fence as she leaned against the other side and slowly slid down until she was sitting.

Something was way off here and a growing feeling of dread propelled him forward, bugger the consequences. He made his way in the shadows as she had and stood beside her. She looked up quickly and stood in a flash of inhuman speed, backing away from him with her movement stirring the warm summer air. Something smelled familiar, prickling his senses, but he let the thought pass.

He whispered, “Buffy? I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry-” He backed up when the realization hit him. His eyes went wide and he fought the urge to go to his knees. “Oh, god. No!”

She frowned at him and turned away. She hesitated before walking off. He watched her round the corner and go between the houses out of sight. He was frozen to the spot until his brain finally kicked into gear and he took off after her, sure that she would be running by now; but she was only at the sidewalk just walking past his bike.

He grabbed his head in both his hands and stopped. He couldn't think. It was all too much for him and the word “no” was rushing at him like a jet plane taking off. His vision blurred and he watched her figure getting further away. He steadied himself and ran to catch up with her.

“Buffy?”

She stopped and he nearly bumped into her as she turned to look at him. Her eyes were haunted. “Am I Buffy? I need a new name. What should I call myself? Liam became Angelus, William became Spike, and it’s only fair that I get a new name too.” She placed her palm where her heart used to beat. “I know, how about Morticia? I could dye my hair black.” She looked at Spike as she touched her hair.

“You came back,” she said in a flat tone. “They never do that.”

“I didn't think you wanted me to come back here. You made it clear you didn't need me, and that finally sank in when I tried to...”

“Tried to what, Spike? Violate me?” Her eyes lifted to the sky. “How many times did we attack each other like that and worse? I was just as bad as you.”

“But you said no and I had no intention of stopping.”

“Yeah, whatever. I went to talk to you about all the crazy stuff that went down before, but Clem said you'd left.” He started to talk but she held up her hand to silence him. “I'm so past it, Spike. That was nothing compared to what's happened since you left.”

He broke eye contact with her and looked around suddenly aware of their surroundings. “Where were you going?”

“Back to my cave.”

“You're coming with me.” Spike made his words a command, grateful when he walked back to his bike and she followed without a word of protest.

His skin crawled when she put her arms around his waist and he touched her hands. There was no warmth.

Clem was gone when they got to his place. They sat on the couch and she told him about the events that transpired after he left. “So Willow went with Giles and things calmed down some, like they do every summer.”

He listened quietly, but couldn't get past the fact that Buffy had been shot and again Willow kept her alive. “So Tara is dead and you should have been too?” If he'd stayed maybe he could have done something.

“Yes, well, I seem to have the uncanny knack of dying but not staying that way because of my friends. Willow can't do anything about it this time though.” It scared him that she could say that without any emotion.

“So this.” He pointed at her. “How? Who?”

She closed her eyes and when she opened them, they flashed from amber and back to green. It was the most emotion she'd displayed since he'd seen her in the backyard. She was beyond angry.

“Drusilla.”

tbc










 
 
Chapter #2 - In Common
 
The crypt was as dark and cold as Buffy felt. One small candle burned on the ledge across the room, its flickering glow barely reaching them. The ugly green couch that she helped Clem drag in was over stuffed and lumpy, the woven fabric coarse and itchy under her palms. Spike sat beside her in silence, and she waited for the reality of what she said to catch up to him.

His eyes widened in horror. “Drusilla did this to you?” Spike got up and then threw himself down on the couch again. He looked at her imploringly. “I should have been here to protect you from her. I've let you down so many times and in so many ways. I'm sorry, love.”

“There's nothing you could have done.” Her tone was flat. If she kept her emotions even, she could control herself. She didn't want to break down in front of Spike. Old habits die hard, even if she died easily. What she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and let him tell her everything would be all right. They wouldn't be, but she wanted him to lie to her anyway. It was too late for her, but she had others to think about and she didn't have the luxury of stopping to wallow in her own misery.

“How did she-?”

“I'd just checked on Clem after a slow patrol and was on my way home, when something hit me from behind. I was knocked out and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a cave...”

She went back, in her mind, to a few nights ago when her life changed forever.

Buffy hadn't known how long she'd been out, but she came to slowly and realized that she was chained up exactly as she had been the night Spiked announced he had a thing for her. She was in a standing position with her arms out wide; the only difference being that this time he had enough sense to chain her feet, too. She kept her eyes closed while fighting off the nauseous feeling in her stomach. When she got out of these chains, she was going to kill him. The throbbing in her head increased and she let out a small groan.

“Ooh, my little dolly is awake,” Drusilla said playfully.

Buffy's eyes snapped open and the crazy vamp stood before her in a long flowing, pale green dress.

“Where's Spike?”

“Oh, good question. I like this game! I came here looking for him and instead I found you.” Drusilla's voice took on a chilling tone. “I try to see him, but there's always you.” She swayed and her eyes rolled back. She lifted a trembling hand to her head. “Sunshine always chases away the night, infecting it with its awful disease until the dark is no more.” She opened her eyes and suddenly she was inches away from Buffy's face. “He's no more, my dark knight. Gone from me forever!” Drusilla slashed at Buffy's sleeve and drew blood. “I created his beauty. I gave it birth and nurtured it. Not you!”

Buffy winced with the pain and tried to focus on Dru's words. She knew the vampire was crazy but Buffy couldn't get past the words 'gone forever.' Where was Spike? She couldn't think straight through the fear. “Let me go, and I'll find him for you.”

Drusilla let out a short, maniacal laugh and morphed into the creature she was. “You cannot find my Spike. You've taken him from me, but he'll never have the sunshine. Never touch it again!”

Before Buffy could form another thought, Drusilla was on her and sharp fangs punctured her neck. She struggled, but chained as she was, it was useless. Blood escaped past the vampire's fangs and ran down the skin of Buffy's throat. She felt the intense need to wipe the blood away, but she was powerless.

She thought about Dawn and how she wanted to show her the good things of the world. About Giles, who was making plans to come back to get things ready for Willow's return. About Spike and how she'd never be able to get things right between them. It was her last thought before everything went dark...

Buffy shook her head and came back to the present. She looked at Spike, but couldn't hold his gaze, unable to bear the pity in his eyes. “Where is she?” Spike got up and went to his weapons box. He looked different in the short brown jacket and for some reason, he smelled like a pine forest.

“She's gone. Dust,” she clarified when he looked at her in alarm. “When I crawled out of my own grave for the second time, I realized what I was.” She hung her head, but looked up with that gleam of anger again. “She was there waiting for me, talking about dollies needing their breakfast.”

Spike sat down next to her again. He put his hand out and brushed the hair away from her cheek. He was careful not to touch her skin. Softly, he asked, “Did you realize right away that you still had your soul?”

She drew in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly. “You can tell?” No tears, she thought, there can be no tears. She had to be strong. He nodded and she replied, “I knew right away. Don't ask me how, but I still felt like me only I was cold with a dull ache throughout my body that I knew would go away if I fed.”

“You didn't--” He pulled away from her.

“No, of course not. Drusilla told me to follow her.” She chuckled wryly. “We were really close to the cave. She didn't even bury me in a real grave. I picked up a sturdy branch and caught up to her. When she turned around to talk to me, I drove the branch through her heart.” Buffy fisted her hands and sat up straight with her shoulders back.

“That's why I felt the pull to come back here. My sire is dead,” Spike said more to himself than to her.

She watched him and felt an overwhelming sadness come over her. He hadn't come back for her. He'd come back for Drusilla. “She had to die,” she told him in that flat tone that was quickly becoming her normal mode of speech.

Spike's jaw clenched and he looked at her with cold eyes. “I would have dusted her myself if you hadn't got there first.”

Buffy was so relieved that he wasn't angry with her that the edges of her lips turned up slightly. He was looking at his hands, and didn't see.

“I should have come back sooner. I wanted to, but I didn't think you'd want me here,” Spike told her without looking up.

“Where did you go?”

“At first, LA.”

“Angel?”

“No. No. And no. I wanted to do something, so that I couldn't hurt you again.” Spike tilted his head at her, his face twisted in pain. “I met some...people who knew of a creature who could help me.”

Spike got up and leaned against a pillar. He searched his jacket and pulled out a cigarette and his Zippo. She leaned back and watched the familiar motion of his hands and head while he lit it and took a few puffs. The way his lips formed when he let out the smoke reminded her of all the wonderful things he could do with that mouth. It seemed her libido wasn't dead. She shivered and closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them he was staring at her.

“I went to Africa.” He sucked in another drag and took his time exhaling.

“What was in Africa that you had to go there?”

He wasn't looking her in the eyes now. He began to pace with short, jerky steps. He stopped in front of her and knelt down on the floor and looked at her knees. “I did it for you, Buffy.” He looked up and her stomach clenched. A tear ran down his face. The cigarette was dropped and forgotten, burning down on the floor beside him, a lone red glow on the cold stone floor.

She put her hands on his shoulders and he flinched and leaned back on his feet. “Don't. I don't deserve your kindness.” He got up and backed away from her. “All the things I've done. I can't take any of it back. I can't change it. I've spent weeks letting it all eat away at me. Wallowing in my own stupid self-pity that I have no right to in the first place.” He stopped backing up and turned away from her. “I loved you. You said I was nothing; that I felt nothing, but you knew it wasn't true. You were going through a bad time and I laid down and let you use me.”

“I'm so sorry, Spike.” Her voiced cracked as she said it. It was easier to say those words when his back was turned. When he wasn't staring at her with those sorrowful eyes.

He turned around and pointed at her. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It was all me. I can see that now, clear as day.” Buffy stood up and he took a few steps towards her and stopped. “I tried to pull you into my darkness, but Dru, she was right. Your light was infecting me, even if it was only artificial light. A flashlight in the dark. The more I tasted of the light, the more I craved. So I sought out the creature that had the power to give it.”

“What did you do, Spike?” He was scaring her.

“Since you weren't going to come into the dark with me, I went and got the light for myself.” His jaw was set and he folded his arms. “I fought for it and nearly didn't make it. Somehow Drusilla knew and that's why she came after you. She was probably coming here to end my existence when she bumped into you.”

Buffy sat down and clutched the edge of the couch. “Your soul?”

“Yes.” He went back down on his knees before her. “I fought for my soul and I got it. It's all my fault what's happened to you.” He placed his head in her lap.

She looked down at him for a second before she slowly placed her hands on either side of his head and forced him to look up. She leaned down so they were eye to eye. “No, Spike. This is not your fault.” As she said it, she felt some of her old resolve and strength coming back to her. “Drusilla did this to me, not you. She wanted to bring me into the darkness, to punish you for getting your soul, and yet here we both are, with souls.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I don't think she was planning that.”

“I didn't want this for you,” he told her sadly as he got up from the floor and sat down next to her. “How do you feel?”

A pang of yearning washed over her when Spike stopped short of touching her and put his hand back in his lap. “I feel...like me. Only there's this deep anger bubbling up inside me, just under here.” She put her hand over her unbeating heart. “And I'm kind of achy all over.”

“Have you eaten?”

She grinned at him and blinked slowly. “You'd be proud of me. I broke into the butcher's and took what I needed.”

He chuckled. “Already breaking the law are you?”

“And I feel so bad about it too,” she said in a mocking tone.

He stood up. “We'd better get you back to your house.”

“No!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. “They don't know. I'm not sure I want them to know.”

“You heard Dawn; the Bit's worried about you.” Spike held onto her hand and squeezed gently. “You have to let her know.”

“Not yet, please. I'm not ready to face Giles and Xander, or the others. And I don't think they're ready to see me like this.” She wasn't sure they ever would be. Maybe it was for the best.

“Okay. You'll stay here then. I would offer you the bed downstairs, but it's not ready for guests right now. Will the couch be okay?”

“I've been sleeping on a dirt floor in a stupid cave for two days; I think the couch will do just fine.” She took her hand from him and slapped the couch, demonstrating its comfort value.

“You're tired. I'll go get you a blanket.” Spike got up again.

“I don't need one. You forget, I'm like you now,” she told him softly.

“I haven't forgotten. We may not need the warmth, but there's no need to forgo the comforts if you don't have too.”

~*~*~*~

Buffy lay on her back on the couch in the dark. The moon did its best to shine through the small thin window up high, but it cast a ray of dull light in one spot only. She was still amazed at her night vision. Things were in shadow, but they were sharper. It almost felt like being in a black and white movie. Her hearing too-she could hear crickets singing and other night sounds. The old refrigerator hummed and every once in a while it made louder noises. Everything was amplified and despite her exhaustion, she couldn't sleep.

Looking over at the covered entrance on the floor, she thought about Spike. He'd gone down to the lower cavern a while ago and she wondered if he was asleep yet. Just knowing he was there made things a little better.

She remembered the events of earlier, and what she'd heard under the open window. It was good that Giles was back already. Buffy had been surprised to see him when she looked into her kitchen. He wasn't scheduled to be here for another couple of days; they must have called him when she didn't come home that night.

Poor Dawn. She was all alone now. Mom was gone and now she was too. This time, Spike couldn't be Dawn's comfort and protector, because she knew what he'd tried to do to Buffy. She'd never accept his help now. If only she'd explained things better to Dawn instead of letting her hate him; but at the time, it was hard to even think about. She would've had to admit to someone, what she couldn't admit to her herself, that she was just as guilty as Spike. Why couldn't Xander just keep his big mouth shut?

Buffy fought back tears and suddenly, she really didn't want to be alone. She got up and moved the lid that covered the lower level to peer down into the darkness. “Spike?” she whispered. It was useless. He slept like the dead thing he was. She went backwards down the ladder, then stood there watching him where he lay on the grimy bed.

He was covered by a sheet, but he was obviously naked underneath. Buffy hesitated before stepping around the rubble to stand over him, drawn to him as always. He looked so peaceful sleeping on his side. She had never really got the chance to just watch him sleep before, or rather, she had never allowed herself to, preferring to avoid the intimacy. His eyelashes were so long. Her eyes swept down further and she swallowed. His perfect, lean body was outlined in the thin sheet that was hugging him.

It was probably not a good idea to wake him. Even so, Buffy went around to the other side and cautiously lay down. She turned on her side towards him and watched his back to see if he was waking up. When nothing happened, she relaxed and closed her eyes. She could sleep now.
 
 
Chapter #3 - What the Lady Wants
 
Chapter Three: What the Lady Wants


Spike had just opened his eyes and was stretching when the memory of finding Buffy last night hit him. He stifled a yawn and nearly jumped out of his skin when his eyes fell on her sleeping form beside him. He kept his eyes on her as he eased himself into his jeans, trying not to wake her. How did she get there? Why would she even want to be this close to me? He tied his bootlaces while looking over his shoulder at her.

His eyes jerked upwards when he heard the door above slam.

“Spike!” Clem called out.

Buffy had left the hole leading to the second floor half open. He glanced at the sleeping slayer and quickly concluded that if she didn't want her friends to know about her, she probably didn't want Clem to know either. Not that they ran in the same circles, but if Clem knew, it wouldn't be long before the rest of the demon population would know and it would somehow get back to the Scoobies.

He climbed to the top floor, dragging the cover over the hole behind him. The wrinkled demon move about the makeshift kitchen placing goods into the open fridge. “Hi Clem.”

“Hey, there you are. Listen, I can't stay right now, but I wanted to bring you some things. I've got pig's blood and I was able to get a pint of 'O' neg.” He waved the clear oblong bag at him. “You want it now?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” It had been a while since he'd fed and even longer since he'd tasted the good stuff.

“It's the least I could do after you let me crash here at your place. I got some scotch and some bourbon, too.” He closed the fridge door and leaned on it. “So did you find out anything about the Slayer?”

Spike stared at the flickering TV. “Yeah. She's dead.”

“I'm sorry, man. You knew this could happen. Slayers have a short life expectancy." He scratched behind his ear and glanced at Spike. "I wonder if the new slayer will come here?”

Spike just shrugged. “I appreciate what you've done for me here, mate; but I need some time alone. Do you mind if I take back the offer to crash here?”

“No problem, Spike. I understand. I still have my own place. I'll come by in a couple of days with more supplies for you.” He slapped Spike on the back on the way to the door. “I've got places to be, so I'll see you around.”

Spike tried to appear casual as he leaned against a sarcophagus and waved at the demon. When the door slammed shut, he pushed himself up, turned the TV off and then went back downstairs. He lit a few candles and took his time setting them around the room, settling himself before facing the slayer and the inevitable discussion. He turned and their eyes met. She was lying there with her hair fanned on the pillow.

“Welcome back,” he said. “I'm not sure how you ended up in my bed?”

Buffy sat up and played with her sleeve. “I couldn't sleep, so I came down here.” She attempted to smooth her shirt out, avoiding his eyes. “I could use a change of clothes.”

“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” he told her as he put his jacket on, trying for light-hearted banter, but failing.

“What the lady wants is for you to stop with the pity. I can't stand the way you look at me.”

“I'm sorry.”

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I get that okay, but right now I need your help, not your pity. I've got to warn Faith about the Council.”

“First, you need to feed, and then I'll see to the change of clothes. I'll go to your place and nick some of your stuff. You want anything in particular?”

~~~~*~~~~~~~~

Spike tossed the long, black duffel bag out the window and cringed when it hit the ledge with a loud thwack. Good going, Pink Panther, alert the whole house on your way out. He held the bag and slipped to the ground.

He could see Giles, through an open window on the ground floor, sitting in an easy chair with an ancient book opened on his lap. He took a drink from the glass in his hand and then let his arm rest on the edge of the chair with the glass swinging over the side. Giles leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He did not look well, with two days worth of stubble on his face and dark circles under his eyes. The watcher would feel even worse if he knew of his slayer's actual fate, Spike wagered.

A car pulled up at the curb. Spike shrank back further into the bushes as two men got out and gently shut their doors. They wore identical leather jackets and had dark hair. Spike watched way too much TV, and his first thought was that they were hit men for the Mafia. That idea was dispelled when the taller one spoke in an English accent.

“Remember, this is an information gathering mission only. No violence. Let me do the talking.”

“Right.” The shorter one waved him off and rolled his eyes.

“If she hasn't tried to contact him yet, he probably doesn't know she's a vampire. He'll be thinking she's just dead like Travers told him.” The man stopped in front of his friend. “I mean it, Carter, no violence.”

“Yeah, but if Buffy's there, let me have first crack at 'er.” Carter pulled out a strange gun the likes of which Spike had never seen. “I'm a better shot than you are.”

“Put that away!” The bigger guy covered the weapon with his hand and looked around anxiously. “What are you trying to do, tip them off?”

“They wouldn't have a clue what this thing is. Be careful,” Carter told the other one as he wrenched it away from him. “It's loaded with the wooden ones. I ain't taking no chances tonight.” He said the last in a whisper as they reached the door and knocked.

Giles opened the door slowly. “What are you two doing here?” He questioned, in a tired voice.

“Travers asked us to stop by on our way to the prison to do that job.”

“You mean before you murder an innocent girl?”

“I don't think she's so innocent. She's in jail isn't she?” Carter snarked. The taller one thumped him on the head. “Ow, what was that for?”

Spike slipped away and ran at full speed back to his place. He'd heard enough.

He burst into the crypt, tossed the duffel bag down, and leaned on the door to shut it with a loud thunk. He scanned the room; No Buffy. There was no way he was going to let those wankers get near her. “Buffy!”

“Down here.”

He grabbed the bag and tossed it down the opening. “Look out below.”

“Clean clothes,” she said with a grateful sigh.

She had the bag on the bed by the time he got down. The sound of the zipper echoed in the room as she opened it. Buffy held up the stuffed pig and clutched it to her chest. “You got Mr. Gordo.” Her voice was soft and tender; her eyes filling with tears. She reached down and grabbed the framed photo. “And my favorite picture.” It was his favorite picture of Buffy with her mum and sis, too.

All the times he tried to impress her or tried to do anything to get her to look at him that way and all it took was to bring her a stuffed pig and a photo. Females were strange creatures. She put her treasures down on the bedside table, pulled out a t-shirt, and raised it to her face. She inhaled deeply and sighed. “It smells like home.” Buffy stared at Spike as if she just realized he was there and stood up straighter.

Spike could see her visibly closing herself off again. The mask of indifference was back and she would not meet his eyes. He looked around the room and noticed that it was much cleaner. There was a pile of debris against the far wall with a couple of full black trash bags and the rug under his feet was clean and flat.

“You've been busy while I was gone.” She shrugged and searched through the bag, avoiding his eyes again. “I'll let you get freshened up then. I've got some news for you when you're done.” It frustrated him when she wouldn't even look at him.

~*~*~*~

Spike was sitting in his chair holding a bottle of bourbon staring mindlessly at the television. Buffy was taking forever and it gave him way too much time to think. She hadn't changed all that much, he thought bitterly and took a drink. She was still sending off mixed signals and making his unlife miserable; yet he was powerless to curb his emotions. He loved her and he would do anything for her. Even if it meant adding to the body count that was already massive and adding more pain and anguish to his soul. He would find a way to eliminate the threat of those two wankers, even if he had to do it himself and suffer massive head trauma.

He watched her walk up and hesitate by the opening. She looked much better in a clean pair of black slacks and a mint green top. Her hair was brushed back into a neat ponytail and she'd put on a little make-up. He looked back at the TV and took a drink, grateful for the opportunity to busy himself while he ordered his emotions. Dead or alive, she was gorgeous, but she didn't need a love sick Spike right now. Buffy needed him to be a man and help her, not cause more problems.

"Did you eat yet?"

"Yes. While you were gone." Buffy brushed past him, turned off the TV and sat on the couch. “So, what news?”

“I over heard these two bruisers talking about you when they were walking to your door. They work for the Council, but they definitely weren't watchers. Thugs more like.”

“Leather jackets? Coarse language?” When he nodded, she said, “I met those guys or guys like them a couple of years ago. They're the clean up crew, here to take care of Faith.”

“Yeah, but they know you're a vampire and they're also here to get rid of you.” He couldn't hide the anger in his voice, and Buffy couldn't hide the shock in hers.

“And Giles let them in?”

“I didn't stick around to find out. I came back here as soon as I could slip out of my hiding place. One thing, though, I heard them say that Giles doesn't know about you. They were there to find out if you'd contacted him yet.”

She relaxed and then tensed up again. “If they're here already, we need to warn Faith right away. I need to get to a pay phone.” She stood and checked her pockets. “Do you have change? I'm going to need a few dollars' worth.”

He got up, put his bottle away, and found his change jar. Surprisingly, it was still full. Spike stuffed his jacket pockets with more than enough change. “Got it,” he said. “But do you even know where she is or the number?”

“I know it by heart. We've talked a few times since she went in.”

~*~*

He waited by the bike some distance away while she used the pay phone across from the park. It was too quick and she did not look happy as she marched back to him. “They won't let me talk to her. She's already had one call today.”

“Where is this prison?”

“In the high desert about two hours from here.”

“Road trip?”

“Road trip,” she agreed. “We'll need to get a set of wheels. There's no way we can make it there and back on your bike before sunup.”







 
 
Chapter #4 - Unreal Heroes
 


Chapter Four: Unreal Heroes

“Stupid bint,” Spike mumbled while he crouched down and worked the tool into the lock on the apartment door. For years, Buffy was all about doing the right thing and looking down on him because he was evil. He broke the law and took what didn't belong to him with no care for the people he hurt, she always said. He gets his soddin' soul and now she insists that he steal a car? From her best friend!

The lock clicked and he slipped inside, being careful to close the door soundlessly. The flat was the same. A string of orange lights on the wall cast an eerie glow on the untidy room. Pizza boxes and soda cans littered the tables and the odor of dirty socks permeated the air. Spike sauntered to the kitchen, grabbed the keys off the hook and slipped them into his jacket pocket.

A door creaked open behind him and he froze.

“Anya, is that you?” Xander whispered in a shaky voice.

Light flooded the room and Spike flattened himself against the wall. Xander held a steel baseball bat out in front of him. Spike suddenly felt the need to get the hell out of there.

“Spike!” Xander came at him swinging the bat. He was a mad man in a pair of paisley silk boxers with his dark hair going every which way. “I'll kill you!”

Xander swung the bat down, aimed at Spike's head. Ducking, Spike reached up and grabbed it before it could reach its mark. Xander's eyes went wide as he pulled on the bat. The vampire tightened his grip while twisting until the weapon flew out of Xander's hand. It went flying into the wall with a resonating ping. Xander held up his hands and looked around wild-eyed. “You can't hurt me. The chip, remember?”

Spike took a breath and his shoulders dropped. He spoke grudgingly. “I remember. Look, I don't want to hurt you. I just need to borrow your car for a couple of hours.” He pulled the keys out of his jacket and shook them before dropping them back in.

“Hey! Give those back.” Xander held out his hand.

“No.”

Xander ran and grabbed the bat. His eyes narrowed at the vampire as he
moved towards him. “You!” he shouted. “You did this to her didn't you?”

“What are you going on about?” Spike took a step back before he realized what he was doing. He wasn't going to cower from Xander. Glaring at the man, he straightened and held his ground.

“Buffy! She's missing and most likely dead, and all of a sudden you show up again?” Xander screeched in a high-pitched voice. “It wasn't enough for you to try to rape her? You had to come back and kill her, too?” He swung the bat.

Spike grabbed it and effortlessly yanked it away. He scowled at the half-naked man and held the bat up. Warily keeping his eyes on him, Xander stepped back until he touched the wall with Spike following in front of him, the bat gripped in one hand. Spike slammed his other hand into Xander's bare chest, causing his head to smack against the wall. Xander grunted in pain and Spike grimaced, waiting for the chip in his head to go off in response.

Nothing. An evil grin lit up his face and he lowered his deep voice another octave. “I think you've been around long enough to know that you need more than a steel bat to do me in.”

Why didn't the chip go off? He lessened the pressure on his chest and threw the bat down while Xander stared at him dumbfounded. He eyed Harris, trying to decide what to do next. If this was a one-time thing, it was best to find out now. He hauled his hand back and with a sweeping motion, he brought it back across Xander's cheek with a resounding slap.

“Ow!” The satisfaction he felt as his head continued to be pain free was intoxicating. He smiled and this time he slapped him lightly. “Hey! Stop that.” Xander slapped back with both hands, eyes closed. He suddenly stopped and flattened himself against the wall. His body shook as he slid to the side, but Spike mirrored his steps. “Oh god that's it! You got the chip out and now you've come back to kill us all. You got to her first!” Xander took a deep breath and let out an ear-piercing scream.

Spike slammed his arm across Xander's throat and used his other hand to cover his mouth. Why did Harris always have to think the worst? “Yeah, I've got my stones back. You'd better tread lightly from now on boy.” He vamped out and gave Xander a ghastly smile before switching to a glare. “I didn't kill Buffy.” He lifted his hand off Xander's mouth when he stopped struggling.

Amber eyes met brown ones before changing to a sorrowful, stormy blue. “I know she's dead, but I didn't kill her.” Xander closed his eyes and Spike could feel the sob come up and escape through his lips before he heard the sound. He released his neck and took a step back. He didn't want to feel anything for Xander, nothing good anyway. Nevertheless, empathy, pity and sympathy were rolling off him and he shook his head to fight it.

A tear held at the corner of Xander's eye before rolling slowly down his check. “Have you...did you s...see her body?”

“Yes,” Spike said in a short, clipped tone. “I can't discuss this with you right now. I'm taking your car, but I'll have it back to you sometime before sun up tomorrow.” He hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, but Xander shrugged him off and sat down on the couch. “Go see Giles. Tell him you saw me.”

“Where are you going?” Xander asked in a deflated tone.

Spike stopped with the door open. The poor guy sat slumped on the couch, in shock. Spike ran his hand through his hair trying to think of what he should and shouldn't say to Buffy's devastated friend. “Like I said, I'll have your car back before sun up tomorrow."

Xander watched the door shut, hung his head and let himself go. With no one around to see, he cried in earnest and let the grief wash over him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike pulled into the gas station where she sat at the curb, waiting with a big can of black paint. She stared at him under the bright light while he filled the tank. It was a good thing Xander kept his cash in the glove compartment. He was almost out of his own dosh. Buffy continue to look at him with those hungry eyes, but he couldn't think of what brought on the look. To his mind, there was nothing exciting about filling up a car with gas.

Silence always unnerved him, so he spoke to break it. “Would you clear the car out, pet? Bloody papers and such all over the seats. Your friend is a slob.” Buffy did as he asked, dumping most of the car's contents in the trashcan.

When they were finally on the road, she busied herself with the can of paint. The car smelled awful with the fumes, but the windows needed to be painted from the inside. Spike's door and the windshield could be done before sunup. He felt a twinge of sorrow when he looked for her in the rear view mirror and saw the brush moving in thin air as if by magic. He swallowed and forced the pity down.

Unable to resist, he twisted around briefly to get a look at her and quickly turned back. He'd gotten a wonderful view of her jean-clad arse. Visions of her without the jeans, in that position vividly filled his mind causing him to jar the wheel, which made the car swerve.

“Gah, Spike!” She fumbled with the paint and brush as she attempted to steady herself. “Maybe I should drive.”

Spike snorted. “In your own words: 'A world of no!' Maybe I don't like the guy, but I intend to get Xander's car back to him in one piece.”

“Well. You're off to a good start swerving all over the place.” She climbed back over and smoothed her hair back.

He smiled briefly and focused on the road. Spike thought about the little scuffle he'd had with Xander and his mood darkened. “He thought I'd killed you.”

“Who? Xander?”

“Yeah. He tried to go at me with a baseball bat.” She stared at him with wide eyes. “He's really broken up about you.” He debated about telling her the chip was gone, but thought better of it. Instead, he told her, “You need to go to them as soon as we get back.”

She leaned into the seat and closed her eyes. “I know.”

“They know that you died. Perhaps they'll be glad that you're still here, even in your undead state.”

“It's so hard. I feel as if I let them all down again.”

A car zipped past them on the other side of the road.

She rubbed at her eyes and then glanced at him. “I thought about staking myself, you know.”

Her sorrow mesmerized him.

“You can't do that,” he told her and tore his eyes away. How many times had he thought about just walking into the sunlit day? When Angelus left the first time. When he'd realized that he was in love with her. When she died; but then he'd had a promise to keep. When he'd realized that no matter how much he wanted to change, he couldn't do it on the principle of loving a good woman alone. That no matter how hard he tried, he would and did hurt her with his mere existence. For he was evil - penned in by a tiny piece of plastic in his noggin. But in the end he couldn't do it, couldn't face the sun. “The will to continue to exist is in us and we can't fight that.”

“I know.” She reached over and placed her hand over his. He pulled his hand away as if the sun had burned him.

She put her hand in her lap and covered it with her other one. “I'm sorry. I didn't think.”

He would not pity her; he reminded himself when he saw her forlorn face. “No. Don't be. I'm just not used to you reaching out to touch me.”

“You mean you're not used to my cold touch. We're both room temp now, but I'm not warm like you're used to with me.”

She stared at him, expecting him to respond. His mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to frame the right words. “It's not that, really. I crave your touch, Buffy. I always will. It's just that when you touch me and there's no warmth, the illusion that you're all right and alive shatters.”

“I know that feeling. I used to look at you sometimes and forget that you were a vampire. Even without your soul, the chip made you seem like a man. But then you'd put your hands on me or kiss me with those cool lips, and I'd remember that you weren't real. I could tell myself then that what we did together wasn't real. Now I'm just as unreal as you ever were.” She pleaded with her eyes for forgiveness.

In awe, he glanced at her before focusing on the road again. That was the most she'd said to him in a long time. There was a tightening in his chest and he was on the verge of blurting out how much he still loved her. Instead, he said, “Well, I guess we'll just go be unreal together, won't we?” He reached over, placed his hand over hers, and gave a squeeze.

“Yeah.” Her smile was warm and she turned her hand around to interlock her fingers with his.

He held on tight and smiled back. “Let's go be unreal heroes and save the crazy slayer.”

They drove in companionable silence for some time until Buffy decided they needed some music. He endured the god-awful, poor excuse for music until he felt his brain start to rot. Why couldn't Harris keep some good stuff like the Buzzcocks or The Clash? Even the most patient of vampires would go batty listening to the crap leaking out of the speakers right now. He switched off the radio.

“I have to tell you something,” he said in a rush to keep her from starting a fight. “The chip is no longer working.” He tapped his head.

“How do you know?”

“I accidentally hurt Xander back at his apartment and no fried brain.”

“It could have been a fluke.” She touched his head, and he shivered from the pleasure.

“No, not a fluke. I slapped Xander around to be sure, and -- nothing. No blinding pain. No headaches. I'm guessing my little quest ended up with a twofer. Gain a soul, lose a chip.” He shrugged.

“Well that's it. You don't need the chip, you have a soul.”

“There's lots of humans running around this earth with souls, killing and doing sod all else. A soul alone won't make us good.”

“True.”

“It stings a little,” he said with wonder. “And it's a bloody nuisance when you're trying to break into some one's apartment.” He gave her a pointed look.

The smirk she gave back was pleasantly familiar, but then she got serious. “So how come you're not all broody and weighted down with guilt for all the evil you've done in the past?”

“You should've seen me a week ago.” He ran his hand through his hair and he did his best to conceal its shaking. “Was a mess then, but I made my peace with the past. I was what I was and I can't do a damned thing about the people I hurt, and I sure as hell can't do anything to make up for it.” He looked away in shame. “What did weigh heavily was what I had done to you.”

“I really want to forget that mess and most of that last year. We both made terrible mistakes.” He still wouldn't look at her. “What I want to know is why it only took you a few weeks to get over the guilt, but Angel took a hundred years?”

He looked at her again and something of his old self was there in the gleam in his eye. “Maybe because he's a poofter?” he deadpanned.

She tried for a stern expression for a moment and then laughed, covering her mouth. He raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed again.














 
 
Chapter #5 - Cuffs and Hotels
 
Chapter Five: Cuffs and Hotels


They had no trouble finding the prison. The imposing structure stood out in the middle of the desert with its bright lights bouncing off the grays concrete building. Buffy recognized the red, van-like vehicle as soon as they turned into the parking lot. It was the same kind they'd used to transport her when she'd been in Faith's body.

The van was parked horizontally in the farthest row from the prison doors, taking up four spaces. A man in black sat in the driver's seat with the engine running and the lights on. Spike drove around the van, giving it a wide berth and pulled into a parking space behind it.

“We need to do something about that driver first.”

Buffy was already ahead of him thinking about the possibilities. It felt great to be doing something besides bemoaning her fate. The familiar rush of adrenaline kicked in and she marveled at the heightened awareness she now had of things around her. She was distracted when she caught the scent of Spike. The brown leather bomber was too new and did not smell like him. Ducking down, they sat close together to form a plan of action.

With a plan in place, they crept up behind the van. Spike moved to the right and slowly made his way around to the front. Buffy went to the left and gave Spike a few seconds to get into position before she pounded a fist against the cold steel on the side of the vehicle. The driver got out and shut his door.

“That was right quick.” The man stopped short. His mouth formed into a small 'O' as his hands went out in front of him in a protective measure when he saw the dead slayer standing with legs spread and her arms folded across her chest.

Buffy recognized him from the time when she was in Faith's body. Her blood hummed with a sudden, intense need for revenge. She fought down the feelings and gave nothing away in her expression as the vampire appeared behind the thug. Spike raised his fisted hands and slammed them down on the man's neck. The driver's eyes widened, then squeezed shut as his body tensed before he slid to the asphalt in a heap.

“Hurry!” She pointed to the ditch beside them. “They're coming with Faith now.”

Spike grabbed the man underneath his armpits and dragged him backwards. Buffy rushed up, grabbed his feet, and lifted. Spike stopped, looked down at the man's face in shock and dropped him as if he was on fire.

She frowned at him while he stared down at the figure and shook his head. “Come on. We have to hurry.” Buffy glanced over her shoulder but her view of Faith was blocked by the van. Spike took a step back and stood with his arms limp at his sides. She dragged the man to the edge and rolled him over until he slid down the embankment. She brushed her hands off and glared at Spike. Now was not the time to loose it.

He touched his neck and shook his head again. “His neck. I broke it.” He stared at her with haunted eyes and whispered, “I killed him.”

“They're coming,” Buffy told him in a firm tone. “Deal with it later.” She shoved him towards the back of the van.

“Take these off me,” Faith's voice rang out into the night accompanied by the clinking of metal against metal as she rattled the cuffs.

“Nope. Ain't gonna happen.”

The back doors of the van swung open. Buffy gave Spike the signal with her eyes and they jumped out at the same time.

She knocked the taller man out right away, but Spike hesitated with the shorter one. He was behind him now with his hand over the man's mouth. The vampire was wild eyed and almost frozen to the spot. Faith frowned at him and kicked the Council thug's leg. There was a sickening crack followed by the man screaming into Spike's hand before he passed out. Spike dropped him and stepped back until he sat in the open back of the van.

“What the hell is going on here?” Faith asked as she took a step back and leaned on the heels of her shoes. “Giles said you were dead!”

With his hands on his knees and his elbows out, Spike looked up at the dark-haired slayer but stayed silent.

“And what's he doing here? Can't seem to stay away from the vamps, can you, B?” Faith looked from Spike to Buffy and gave her a smug smile.

Buffy thought she looked pale in her prison blue jumpsuit. It hung loose on her frame and she had obviously lost some weight.

Faith held out her cuffed hands. “Help me get these off. Dummer there has the keys.” She pointed to the thug by Spike's feet.

Spike searched the dark jacket, pulling out a weapon, and putting it in his lap, before finding the keys and tossing them to Buffy. She slowly approached the other slayer and unlocked the cuffs around her outstretched hands. Faith tilted her head in an effort to make eye contact with Buffy. Before she could do so, clicking sounds from the weapon had them both turning to look at Spike. They all watched the strange bullets fall to the ground.

With his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in anger, he threw the weapon down, stomping on it with his heavy boots. Pieces went flying in all directions.

“What was that all about?” Buffy asked.

Spike pointed at the man he had taken the keys and gun from. “That's Carter. The one I saw with the gun talking about how he was gonna kill you. Can't use it now, can he?”

Faith narrowed her eyes at Buffy as she bent down and picked up one of the wooden bullets. She turned it around in her hand then threw it down. She looked at Buffy with alarm, grabbed her arm, and pulled her close. Buffy tried to smack the hand away as Faith placed her palm just above Buffy's left breast, but the other girl was determined. Using that same palm, she pushed Buffy away from her and they both took a step back.

Faith shook her head slowly and took one more step away. “You're not- You are! Giles was right; you're dead. He didn't say anything about vampires though.” She looked around, trying to decide if she should stay or run. “What's going on?”

Buffy put her hands up. “I'm not here to hurt you. I found out that the Council wanted you dead to activate a new Slayer, so we came to get you out of here.”

“She's got a soul.” Spike stepped between them and faced Faith. “She's not feeding.”

“You did this to her?” she asked Spike. “Don't you have a chip?”

Buffy pushed Spike out of the way. “Drusilla did it. Look we don't have time to go over this now. We need to get all three of these guys into the truck and drive it off somewhere.”

Spike grabbed Carter and threw him into the van while Buffy did the same with the other one. Faith stood by watching, too shocked to lend a hand. They turned to get the dead man that Buffy had rolled down the hill when Faith blurted, “So you are a good vamp? Like Angel?”

“Yeah.” Buffy waved her off and followed Spike down the hill. He stood over the body, starring at it with a frown on his face, before squeezing his eyes shut. “It was an accident. You didn't mean it.”

“I wasn't planning on adding to the body count, you know,” he told her softly. “I was prepared to do anything I had to to keep you safe, but I was hoping...”

Buffy grabbed the dead man's ankles. “Come on, we have to hurry.”

He shook off the mood and grabbed the man by the shoulders. Once they had him in the van, they tied up the two who were still out cold and drove out of the parking lot.

Buffy sat behind the wheel of the van and followed Spike and Faith in the car. She didn't know what was wigging her out more: the fact that Spike could feel remorse, or that she couldn't bring herself to care that a man was dead. They drove twenty minutes out before Spike pulled over and got out to meet her between the two vehicles. Faith opened the back door and stood behind it.

“I think this is far enough. Just leave it there and someone will come by and find it,” he said, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the back of the van.

“Can I have one of those?” Faith asked as she slammed the door and hopped onto the trunk. She accepted the offered lit cigarette and took a drag. “So what now?” She eyed Buffy with suspicion.

“We aren't going to make it home before sunup,” Spike said.

Buffy turned to Faith. “We can drop you off somewhere and you can do as you please, or you can stay with us and we can take you to Giles.” Buffy shrugged. “I think you'd be safer with us.”

“The Slayer is safer holing up with two vampires than going it alone?”

“Hey, we saved your arse back there,” Spike growled.

Faith sighed and blew out a stream of smoke. “Giles called and warned me about the Council guys coming to kill me. They told the prison staff that they were extraditing me to Europe. I had a plan. I would have gotten away on my own at the airport.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but now you have a ride to Sunnydale.”

Faith hopped down and grabbed Buffy's arm to look at her watch. “Well, we'd better find you guys a hotel room before my ride turns to dust.” Buffy pulled her arm back. “Then again, I can drive on my own if that happens.” She smiled at Buffy before getting into the backseat.

~*~*~*~

They pulled off the highway at the first town they came to. It was a small hole-in-the-desert kind of place with a couple of gas stations, a few restaurants and the sorriest truck stop Spike had ever seen. More of a stopping grounds for people on their way to and from Vegas. He nicked a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the truck stop store for Faith while Buffy paid for a room at the Motel 6 across the street.

Later, Spike sat on the bed gazing at Buffy who sat across from him on the other queen-sized bed. Faith came out of the bathroom and tossed the towel she had been using to dry her hair onto the sink.

“Not a bad fit.” She tucked in the plain blue t-shirt. “I could use a belt though.” She stood in front of the bed by the door. “This isn't going to work." Faith pointed to the other bed where Spike sat and said firmly, "Vamps in that bed and humans in this one.”

Spike stood up when Buffy did. He could detect her distress under the surface but she put up a calm front. “You can just sleep on the floor,” she told Faith.

“Hey, I'm not the genius who got one room with two beds when there are three of us.”

“This was all that Xander's money could get us!” Buffy shouted.

He could see that neither of them was going to be reasonable. He patted his jacket looking for his lighter. “Let her have the other bed. It's not like we haven't slept together before.”

Buffy made a noise in her throat and glared at Spike. Faith looked at the two of them and smiled. “I knew it! You have a thing for vampires, and with Spike being hot and all, you just couldn't help yourself. Again.”

Spike groaned inwardly. He'd put his foot in it once more. Buffy looked ready to dust him. “That's not how I meant it. She slept at my place last night because she had nowhere else to go. Nothing happened.”

Faith watched Buffy for a second and then moved towards Spike. “Well in that case, I change my mind. I think maybe I'll sleep with Spike.”

Spike's lips curved up. This Slayer was something else. She had sass and guts. He quickly dropped the smile when he tore his gaze from Faith and he saw the murderous look on Buffy's face. Faith was closing the gap, but Buffy got between them and pushed her back.

“Stay away from Spike. Just because he walks on two legs and has the right equipment, doesn't mean you have to jump his bones. And he's right. We have fallen asleep in the same bed before, so it's no big deal.”

“Well, since I go both ways, the equipment doesn't matter. And how would you know about his equipment?”

Spike was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with Faith staring in the general direction of his... equipment. He sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and used the remote to turn on the TV, doing his best to ignore them both.

“I'm going to take a shower.” Buffy glared at Faith before slamming the bathroom door.

He was focused on the TV when he heard the distinct sound of a zipper.

“What are you doing?” he asked in alarm as Faith pushed her jeans down and kicked them off. She wore prison issue underwear. He looked back at the TV.

“I'm not going to sleep in the jeans.”

Spike kept his head forward but watched her out of the corner of his eye. She folded back the covers and slipped inside the bed sheets. The light from the TV flickered across the dark room and the volume was low enough that he could hear the shower running.

Faith sat there for some time, playing with the edge of the sheet before she spoke up again. “We've met before you know.”

He studied her for a moment. “I think I would remember if we met before, love.”

“Let me refresh your memory.” Faith flashed him a shit-eating grin. “It was a couple of years ago at the Bronze. I was wearing a different skin at the time. I seem to recall telling you how I had muscles you've never dreamed of and that I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne.”

“Wot?” He sat up straight. “That was you?”

The bathroom door opened and Buffy came out in a towel with a second towel covering her hair. He sprang up out of bed and stood before her.

“My turn now.” He looked back at Faith, who was still smiling at him in her smug little way. “Can I have one of those towels?”

Buffy rubbed against him as she brushed past to get her clothes out of the bathroom. All his senses went on high alert and he stared at her with hungry eyes as she adjusted the towel hugging her breast. His mouth went dry as she unraveled the towel around her hair and leaned over, rubbing her head vigorously with it. She straightened and held the towel out to him.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy watched him disappear into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed facing away from Faith. She slowly got dressed.

“So,” Faith said, “How come I didn't hear about this thing with Spike during any of our phone conversations?”

“There wasn't much to tell. He's been gone most of the summer.”

“From where I am sitting, it looks like there's gotta be a whole lot of juicy details.”

Buffy pulled her green top over her head and climbed over the bed to sit up on the side closest to Faith. She stared at Faith for moment and chose the safest route when dealing with discussions about Spike. She changed the subject.

“You know you're alone now.”

“Seems to me I'm sitting in a room with you.” Faith frowned at her.

“I mean, you are the only living slayer now.”

“You're still the slayer. A vamp slayer, but you're still Buffy.”

“They were going to kill you, Faith. They wanted you gone so that a new, younger girl could be called and activated. Someone easier to control. I'm already dead or undead. Whatever.” She waved her hand in the air.

“I can take care of myself. I've been doing it a long time.” Faith sighed before laying her head on the pillow.

Buffy reached over and used the remote to turn off the TV. Then she lay down facing in Faith's direction. With the end table between them, they couldn't see each other. Faith was going to need her watcher now. She sighed. It was difficult to think that Giles would be working with someone else.

“Please let Giles and the others help you.” It felt foreign to ask Faith for anything.

“I'm going along on your little joy ride back to Sunnydale, aren't I?”





 
 
Chapter #6 - Good To You
 


a/n: This and the previous chapters were beta'd by two amazing ladies. Slaymesoftly and Spikesdeb. I am so grateful for all their help with this.

Unreal Together

Chapter Six: Good to You


Faith peered out the window, careful not to open the grungy curtains too wide. The sun was still up and she was starving. She had no money and wondered if Spike or Buffy had any. She turned and looked at them asleep on the bed. They both slept on their backs, fully clothed and on top of the comforter. What had her scratching her head and made her gag at the same time with the sweetness of it, was their hands. They were holding hands while they slept. Yeah, nothing's going on between those two.

She sat on her bed and bounced a little. It was better than the crap thin excuse of a mattress she had in her cell. She gazed at the door and sighed. She could be out there in the sun right now, soaking up the rays. She was as free as a bird, with no one looking for her except maybe more Council thugs. Instead, she was stuck in this room with two sleeping vampires, who gave her the creeps because they didn't breathe. The sound on the TV was muted, but the guests on the Jerry Springer show were shouting and throwing things. She could do Steve's job. She cracked her knuckles.

Faith glanced over at the other bed when she heard movement. She smiled when Spike looked down at his hand entwined with Buffy's; then snorted when he snatched his hand away and scowled at her.

“You got any cash?” Faith asked. “I haven't had anything to eat in a while.”

“Yeah.”

Not yet fully awake, Spike ran his hand through his hair. Without the gel cementing it in place, pretty curls had sprung up. He didn't look dangerous that way. Fumbling around, he searched the jacket and dumped two hands full of quarters in her lap.

“That should do. Go get a bite.” He checked the clock. “You've plenty of time; we leave at sundown.”

~*~*~*~*~

They had maybe fifteen minutes before they would arrive at Buffy's house. Spike stole a glance at Buffy sitting beside him in the passenger seat. She had been awfully quiet for most of the long drive back. He looked in the rear view mirror and noted that Faith had been silent for most of the trip, too. She had spent the better part of her time in the back scratching at the chalky black paint on the windows. His attention was drawn back to Buffy as she wrung her hands in her lap while straining to peek through the paint before giving up and leaning back in her seat again.

“You okay, pet?”

She looked behind her but Faith was ignoring them as she scratched at the paint. “I'm worried about Dawn.”

“She'll get on alright. She's strong like you.” Dawn would probably adjust fine, but it was her initial reaction and what it might do to Buffy that concerned him. He wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, but he was ever mindful of their passenger in the back. “I need to get this car back to Xander, but if you want, I can stay in the driveway for a few minutes.”

She reached over and placed her hand on his knee. “No. I want you to go in with Faith and break the news to them first. I don't want to just shock them with this.”

He looked down at her pale hand and forced the warmth that he was suddenly feeling to go away. “I'll do anything you want.”

The remainder of the ride was quiet, with each of them wandering in their own thoughts. He turned on to Revello drive and spied Xander standing on Buffy's front porch. When the man spotted his car, he jumped back and ran into the house. Spike was grateful for the blacked out window that blocked Buffy's view. He parked and exchanged looks of dread with both girls before nodding that it was time. Faith and Spike got out at the same time. He rolled his head to crack his neck and tugged on his jacket. He could do this.

Faith knocked and Dawn opened the door. “Hey kid,” the slayer said as she brushed past Dawn.

The girl watched her walk in, with hostile eyes before turning to Spike with a glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Nibblet.” He tested the doorway with his hand and stepped into the house when it was clear that no disinvite spell had been done.

Giles narrowed his eyes and took a step back as Spike swept into the living room. He kept an eye on Spike, but addressed Faith. “It's good to see you alive and well, Faith.”

“Yeah, well the cavalry showed up.” She motioned to Spike.

Xander came fumbling into the room from the other direction and tossed a wooden cross at Spike. He ducked in alarm and watched Dawn catch it behind him. She held it to her chest and continued to glare at him. His attention was drawn back to Xander as he tossed a cross to Giles and clutched one for himself in one hand and a small bottle of holy water in the other.

Spike backed out of the room giving Dawn a wide berth. She backed up with him into the entryhall and went up a couple of stairs.

He held out his hands in supplication. “Look, I'm not here to cause trouble. Just droppin off the Slayer for you - and I've got some news.”

Hearing his words, the rest of the gang crowded into the small space. Faith stood close to Spike and gave him an understanding look. He guessed she knew what it was like to be an outsider with this group. He reached back and opened the door wide trying to ignore their glares.

“'m glad you're here, Harris.” He tossed him the keys to the car. “Saves me a trip.” Xander dropped the bottle to catch the keys and it shattered on the wood floor.

Dawn looked past Spike and her eyes got big. “Buffy!”

Buffy took a step towards her sister and bounced back in shock. She rubbed her face and put her hands out in horrific wonder. It was a tragic mime routine and Spike's heart broke for her.

“She needs an invite, 'Bit.”

“Oh, dear Lord!” Giles clutched his cross to his chest while stumbling back a few steps. Buffy's eyes were wide and wet, but she held back the tears.

Xander's shoulders dropped. He hung his head and leaned on the wall for support.

Faith hopped on one foot and then the other, looking ready to bolt. “Invite her in, Dawn. She's your sister, for God's sake.”

“Wait!” Giles said in alarm.

Buffy looked imploringly at Spike and then at her sister. Dawn went down the steps and stood by Spike; the fear of an unchipped vampire forgotten in her shock.

“She won't hurt us?” Her voice was soft and uncertain, her eyes wet as she struggled to deal with the nightmare. Her sister was dead. Evil maybe. The little girl inside her sought reassurance from her one time best friend.

Buffy closed her eyes and one tear escaped. She opened them and stared at Dawn, trying to talk but nothing came out.

“She has a soul, pet. She won't hurt you.” Spike spoke softly, never taking his eyes from Buffy.

“Come in.”

Buffy took one step into the entry hall and Dawn took one step back. Faith pushed past Giles and Xander, wiping at her eyes and mumbling something about needing the bathroom. Buffy stood tall and rigid; her hands clenched in tight fists at her sides.

“You bastard!” Xander said as he pushed against the wall and came towards Spike, pointing a finger and holding the cross out at him. “You did this to her.”

Spike had seen Giles become Ripper a few times, and like most of those times, his fellow Brit's anger was directed at him. “If you did this--”

“No!” Faith said as she pushed her way back into the entry hall. “He has a soul, too.”

Xander still had the cross held out inches from his chest. Spike grabbed it. They all watched as his hand slowly wrapped around the cross. A faint sizzling sound filled the room and the tiniest bit of gray smoke floated away from the wooden symbol. Xander released his hold on it and looked down as Spike used his other hand to pull at the pocket on Xander's flannel shirt and jam the cross in it. The vampire gave the pocket a firm pat before stepping back in satisfaction.

Dawn let out a sob and his moment of triumph was forgotten. Tears rolled unbidden down her face while she pushed a lock of hair behind an ear. “Then who did this to you?”

Buffy's knees buckled and Spike was at her side in a flash to catch her. She buried her face in his jacket and gripped the leather as if she'd float away if she let go. He watched her friends and was relieved to see that each one of them looked concerned for her.

Dawn put her hand out and touched Buffy on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Buffy couldn't face her, instead she looked into Spike's eyes and whispered, “I can't- Please, can we just go?”

He nodded and tightened his hold on her. He glared at the group, daring them to protest. “We'll come back tomorrow night.”

Buffy stared at Dawn, with wide eyes. "I'm sorry."

Still embracing Buffy, he turned them, walked out the door and awkwardly stepped down the porch steps. They got as far as the sidewalk before her knees buckled again. He swept her up, and she held on tight as he raced back to his crypt.

When he reached the cemetery, Buffy struggled to get down. Spike kept his arm around her shoulders as they walked the rest of the way to the crypt in silence.

Buffy hunched up in his easy chair with her elbows on her thighs, her head down resting in her open hands. In the kitchen, he poured them both some blood and a couple of shots of bourbon. Spike placed the glasses on the end table and bent down in front of her. She gazed up at him with sad eyes. With determination, he smoothed her hair out her face and gently grasped her head in his hands.

“It's going to be alright. It's going...to be...alright.”

Relief washed over him when she sat up straighter. He stood and handed her the blood. She downed it and held the empty cup out. Spike replaced it with the shot glass and he smiled when she downed that, too.

She watched him drink his cup of blood after he downed his own shot glass. He was feeling a little self-conscious under the weight of her stare. He got up, gathered the glasses, and put them away for washing later. Buffy followed him, and when he turned around, they were only inches apart.

Spike tracked the direction of her hand with his eyes as she reached out and touched his arm. “I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back when you did.”

“You are amazingly strong and you would have done just as well without me; but I'm glad I came back, too.”

She absently rubbed her hand up and down his arm. “I lost it tonight. I couldn't get it together.”

“You've been through so much.” He leaned in, kissed her on the forehead, and then rested his head against hers. “I want to take it all away for you. Make it better. That or go kill something.”

She let out a short laugh and sighed as she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Just being here with you makes it easier.”

When she leaned in to kiss him, he thought that he had to be dreaming. The kiss started out tender but, as always, their coming together was electrifying. They were soon pressed together, their bodies straining for more. Her hands found their way inside his shirt, where she ran her fingers eagerly over his bare skin. His head buzzed with the intensity of her obvious need.

Spike pulled away from her with a groan, thinking about what she really needed. “We have to stop.”

Even though the fire was still blazing in her eyes, she dropped her arms to her sides, taking a step back. “You're right. I'm sorry. I understand.”

He pulled her back into his arms and embraced her again. “I don't think you do,” he said into her hair. “I want you so bad right now that it's taking every thing I have to control myself.”

Putting her arms around him, Buffy hugged him back, resting her head on his chest as he spoke on.

“I told you once that I'll always want you, and nothing's changed. 'cept maybe the fact I love you more now than I ever did.”

She leaned back to looked at him and smiled sadly. “Well, I've definitely changed.”

Spike shrugged. “Whether you have a heart beat or not makes no bloody difference to me. You are still Buffy, and I'd still do anything for you. Anything except help you self-destruct. You've been through bloody mayhem and the last thing you need is me taking advantage.”

Buffy snorted. “I'm not self destructing. Hell, I'm a vampire. I think all the destruction has been done.”

“You'd be surprised at how much torture a vampire can put himself through.”

“You mean like falling in love with the one person who was chosen to slay his kind?” she said playfully.

Spike grinned and nodded in acknowledgment. “It's in my nature to go against the grain.” Spike said it proudly and took her head in his hands so he could admire her beautiful face. Such sweet torture. “Will you let me be good to you?”

 
 
Chapter #7 - Leather Between Old Friends
 
A/N: This chapter was beta'd by the amazing slaymesoftly. I made some changes after the fact, so any and all mistakes are completely my own.

The next update may be slow in coming because of the holidays, but I think you will find the last three chapters worth the wait : ) Thanks to all who have been reading. The reviews have been better than I ever expected *hugs*


Chapter Seven: Leather Between Old Friends


Such sweet torture, Spike thought. “Will you let me be good to you?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy stared at him with tearful eyes, desperately wanting things to be different for them this time around. “Only if you let me be good to you, too.”

“That's a fair bargain, but one stipulation.”

“What?”

“Bitchy Buffy.”

She glared at him, but relaxed when she realized that Spike was just teasing her.

He smirked at her. “I like her. I love her fire and her sexy anger.”

She was trying to look outraged, but a smile over took the frown as she shook her head.

“You can't be too good to me," Spike said. "Sometimes you've got to let me have it and give me what for.”

“Okay so we take this...thing between us slow then?” Buffy asked.

“That's fair. No fighting today. But tomorrow maybe you could start a fight about something unimportant. Possibly you could call me a pig?” He tilted his head and grinned at her.

Stepping back, Buffy put her hands on her hips. “I was talking about the physical stuff.”

“Oh yeah, that too.” Rubbing his nose, he raised an eyebrow at her. “Maybe wait a week before you start breaking my nose again?”

“You're impossible!” She slapped him on the shoulder playfully.

In all the time she had known him, Spike was constantly changing, and yet he was still the same. She watched him move around the crypt, walking with smooth fluid motion almost as if he was moving the world to suit him. The only thing missing was the black leather duster flowing behind him. That was hanging up in her closest in a garment bag. Although she had to admit, he looked amazing without it. His deliciously tight t-shirt showed off that lean upper body with the muscles on his bare arms flexing and jumping as he moved.

“It's early yet. We can play cards or maybe watch some TV,” he suggested.

“Some mindless TV would be good.”

It was so much easier to obsess about his yummy goodness than to think about her friends and family back at her house. Buffy felt bad that she was content here with Spike while they mourned her death. She shook her head, trying not to think about it.

Going to a chest against the wall, Spike pulled out a pillow and a chenille blanket. He tossed the pillow down beside her on the couch and leaned against it. He gathered her in his arms, wrapping the blanket around them.

“Just relax, luv.” He told her in that wonderful, deep voice of his as he maneuvered them into a horizontal position.

Buffy relaxed against him and let the low volume on the TV lull her unconscious.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but she came to slowly when he shifted his weight and tensed up.

“'lo, Platelet.”


With her arms crossed, Dawn tapped a foot and stood over them. “Well this looks cozy.”

“Are you okay?" Buffy sat up quickly. "Does Giles know you came here?”

“I'm doing okay, considering that I just found out my sister is a vampire. And yes, I told him I was coming here.” The girl's sad eyes darted around the room, avoiding her sister.

“And he let you come here all on your own, in the dark?” Spike asked her with narrowed eyes.

Standing up, Buffy straightened her clothes before gazing at Dawn. She desperately wanted to hug her and make the hurt go away for her little sister.

“Okay. I left him a note on the kitchen table. They were talking in the living room and they made me go upstairs. I wasn't going to just sit around while they talked without me. I slipped out the back.”

One minute, Dawn was staring at her with red puffy eyes, and the next, the girl was launching herself into her sister's arms. “Buffy. Buffy!” she cried.

Buffy felt the overwhelming need to run again, but she looked at Spike and found strength in his eyes. Dawn needed her, so she hugged her tight and let her cry. Spike disappeared from her line of vision and she heard the grating noise that the cover for the lower level made when it was moved.

“Here. Sit.”

Dawn's lower lip trembled as Buffy wiped the tears away and held on to her face. She was such a pretty girl even when she cried. The only light, coming from the flickering TV, bounced off her sorrow-ridden face. Buffy used her thumb to wipe away another warm tear.

“It's going to be alright.” It didn't come out as strong as when Spike said it, but she was beginning to believe it now. She could be strong. She had to be strong, because Dawn needed her.

Dawn grabbed Buffy's hands and put them in her lap. “You're my sister, but they wouldn't let me in on their little meeting.”

“You could have gotten really hurt walking over here by yourself after dark.”

“I don't want to go back there. Can I stay here with you tonight?”

Buffy glanced back at Spike who was coming up to the top level. Hopping up on to a sarcophagus, he lit a cigarette.

“Okay, you can stay here tonight, but we'll have to share the couch.”

“Actually,” Spike said. “You two can have the bed. There are clean sheets and I lit a few candles for you.”

He stood up as they passed him. “I think it would be a good idea to have Dawn go home in the morning and let the others know she's okay.”

Buffy nodded as she started down the ladder. She stopped when Dawn came up to Spike. The two were almost nose-to-nose.

“Ask me if I care what you think.” Dawn sneered at him and he was taken back by her anger. “You pervert.”

Spike raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. Buffy knew he was just putting up a wall to cover the hurt; she could see it in his eyes.

“Dawn!” Buffy looked softly at Spike, feeling bad for him, before she frowned at Dawn. She had a lot of explaining and lecturing to do to her little sister. “Come on.”

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Dawn went straight for the night table. She stared at Buffy with accusing eyes and held up the framed picture. “You've been staying here? With him?” She put the picture down and used two hands to lift up the black duffel bag. “And what about this? When did you get all this stuff?”

“Spike got it for me last night.”

Buffy sat on the bed and patted the spot beside her. Dawn sighed and sat down with her.

“What happened with Spike before the summer wasn't all his fault.”

Dawn nodded her head. “I read about this. Many rape victims feel like it was their fault. It's not your fault.”

“I wasn't raped. Xander told you what he believed happened. It wasn't like that.”

“So he didn't try to rape you?” Dawn asked, clearly confused.

“We pushed each other over the edge during that time. We both did terrible things to each other.” Buffy reached over and smoothed the hair away from Dawns face. “I need you to believe me when I say that we were both wrong. I wasn't ready to admit that when Xander told you about what happened. I was wrong to let you think he was the bad guy all this time.”

“But he is the bad guy, right? The evil soulless demon with a chip in his head.”

“There's no way you believe that, Dawn. He protected you and loved us. He wasn't all evil. Look at how he watched over you when I was...gone that summer.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike sat in his chair nursing a bottle of bourbon. One bottle wasn't enough to get him drunk, but it was enough to make him feel mellow. He watched “Movies 'til Dawn” on channel 13. Tonight they had a very poorly done Viking movie showing. It was worse than even the normal bad for this time of the night.

When the girls had first gone down stairs, he'd heard loud voices that turned into soft murmurs. At some point, much later, he heard Dawn's loud laughter and Buffy's softer laugh. An hour ago, things had gone quiet and he fought the urge to go down there and make sure they were both covered up.

The topless, oiled and bronzed Viking was just getting off the ship and preparing to conquer the land and people when he heard someone come up the ladder. Dawn stood by the opening, hugging herself, so he used the remote to hit the mute button.

“Everything alright?” He didn't know how to act around her anymore. He didn't want to say the wrong thing or set her off.

“Yeah.” She walked closer to him and sat on the arm of the couch that was farthest away from his chair. “I used to always think it would be cool to have a sleep over here.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn't realize how cold it would be down there, even in the summer.” She rubbed her arms and shivered.

“You'd probably rest better in your own bed.”

“Yeah.”

“Shall I walk you home then?”

Dawn was quiet and kept stealing glances at him as they made their way across the graveyard. Spike was on full alert. It wouldn't do to have her get killed while big sis was fast asleep in his bed. As soon as they hit the street he relaxed just a little knowing that most demons would be sticking near to home this close to sun up.

“Buffy says I should forgive you for what you tried to do to her.”

“Really.” If he talked too much he'd end up putting his foot in his mouth, so he just kept walking with his hands in his jacket pockets.

“She wouldn't give me details because I'm still like a kid, but she says she was partly to blame.”

He stopped short and she turned to face him. “She is wrong. She is completely blameless. And all of it--every last bleedin' thing was my fault.”

He walked past her and kept up a fast clip. Spike could hear her shoes clicking on the payment as she caught up to him.

“So I shouldn't forgive you then?”

“You do as you like. Just don't blame your sister for any of it.”

“My sister is no saint you know. I think I will forgive you.”

She nodded firmly and looked serious so he did his best not to smile at her.

“Thanks ever so.”

They made their way across a deserted Main street. “I tried to convince Buffy to move back into the house, but she says her very sunny room is no place for a vampire. She told me to let Faith stay in her room.”

“Makes sense.”

“I suggested the basement. We'd have to fix it up for her but she says she doesn't want to make any decisions right now.” She grinned at him. “I think she feels right at home in your crypt.”

He'd be happy if she never left his crypt again or his bed for that matter. His mind wandered as he pictured her stretched out there now. Would she mind if he slipped in beside her when he got back? He quickened his pace a bit more. He looked over at the Bit. He loved the girl, but she sure could talk.

Spike walked her to the front door and planned to stand by his tree for a few minutes to make sure all was well in the Summer's place, but Dawn grabbed his arm and pulled his head down to her ear.

She whispered, “Meet me at Buffy's window real quick.”

She was gone into the house before he could respond. He stood there for a moment, shrugged, and made his customary way up to the window. Squinting when the light went on, he watched her go to the closet and disappear into it. As she backed out, Dawn struggled to hold up a fancy blue garment bag that was as tall as she was. She slid the window up and pushed the bag at him.

“Buffy wanted me to get this in the morning and bring it to you.”

He unzipped it and peeked in. His duster. Spike could not believe that Buffy kept it, but he couldn't possibly wear it again. A brief image of Nikki on the train floor with a broken neck flashed into his mind. Jerking his hands away from the cool material, he zipped the bag up.

“The sun will be up soon. You need to hurry.” Dawn told him as she shoved the bag all way out the window. “One more thing.”

He couldn't take his eyes off the bag or bring himself to pick it up off the ledge.

“If you have that old thing back, you don't need the bomber do you?” When he didn't respond, she asked, “Can I have the bomber?”

Spike looked up at her hopeful face. “Oh sure, Nibblet.”

He shrugged out of the jacket and passed it to her. Clutching it with a smile on her face, she thanked him as he jumped down with the garment bag.

He attempted to run at full speed back to his crypt, but the bag kept tangling him up and slowing him down.
 
 
Chapter #8 - His and Hers
 


A/N: In this chapter there is reference to a poem. If you are interested, you can find the poem and a brief history about it at this link: The Masque of B-ll--l

Thank you slaymesoftly for all the help/beta work with this chapter.

Chapter eight: His and Hers


Spike found the stack of cardboard boxes when he slipped out of bed late in the afternoon. He had been bored and, while Buffy slept, he quietly tried to clean out the rubble and add to the progress that she had made the other day. Clem had done well. The demon must have spent a lot of time going through the rubble while Spike was gone.

He found one box full of shirts and a jean jacket. Another one had belts and twelve pairs of identical black jeans and one pair of tan Dockers. The clothes were clean and smelled like Downy Softener. Spike chuckled as he pictured a busy Clem at the laundry mat folding his jeans.

Spike was relieved to see that some of his books had survived. Picking through a box containing the dusty volumes, he pulled out his 1939 copy of The Balliol Rhymes. He'd gone through three copies of it in his unlife and they were getting harder to find. Spike thought of the hand written copy of The Masque of B-ll—l, that he'd put under his mattress just days before he was turned. Cecil, a classmate and one of the authors, had given it to him with a snide remark about it being real poetry. William had been incensed at the blatant disregard for authority in the lines of silly poetry, but after his turning, Spike often read it for amusement.

He stood now in the upper level reading the quatrains and doing his best to ignore the garment bag that he'd tossed over the couch right before dawn. He had his back turned when he heard Buffy come up.

“Where'd you get that shirt?” she asked.

Tossing the book on to his chair, he turned and smiled at her. She walked towards him, her dark brown skirt swaying and the off-white sweater emphasizing the way her tan was fading.

“Clem kept my stuff for me.”

“I've never seen it before.” She hesitated in front of him before reaching up to adjust his collar. Standing completely still, he watched her and took in her scent.

“I like it. The blue matches your eyes,” Buffy said with a small smile.

He frowned. “I don't usually coordinate my clothes by my eye color.”

“You don't usually coordinate at all. Black, black and more black.” She waved a hand at his t-shirt peeking of the blue one, and his jeans and his boots. “Oh, and speaking of black, I see Dawn has already gone and come back with this.”

He cringed when she unzipped the bag in one quick motion. He should have just dumped the thing in a trash bin, but he couldn't bring himself to part with it just yet.

“You left it at my place,” she told him while avoiding his gaze. “I...I had it professionally cleaned and I kept it for you.”

Buffy opened the coat, dug into a pocket and pulled out two nicely whittled stakes. “When the cleaner handed me these and told me she'd found them in a pocket, I said they were the new cool drum sticks.” Putting them back where she found them, she added with a smile, “I don't think she believed me.”

Picking up the duster, she held it out to him, but he took a step back shaking his head and holding an open hand out at it. “I don't need it.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes and tilted her head. Slowly, she turned and draped the coat across the couch. “Where's Dawn?”

“I walked her home right before sun up. She was too cold to stay down there. She gave me the duster and I took it back with me.”

Buffy ran a palm over the cool leather, and then touched her hair with both hands. “You have no mirrors in this place, but I guess it wouldn't do me any good if you did.” She smoothed her hair down while gazing at him with a resigned face. “Do I look alright?”

Putting his hands on her waist, Spike leaned away from her, making a big show of looking her up and down. “You look like a goddess, pet.”

Her golden hair shown with healthy body and he longed to run his fingers through it. Her vivid green eyes stood out against her pale skin. “A little less of a tan, but you're still so beautiful.”

She moved in closer to him and he wrapped his arms around her. Buffy's voice was muffled against his chest. “I don't know where I'll get my roots done. The salons all close at six.”

“I'll do it for you.”

Just the thought of massaging her scalp made his jeans get tighter. Attempting to put some distance between them, Spike untangled himself from her and headed for the fridge.

She sat down on his chair and flipped through his book. “You? Do my hair? I don't think so.”

He stopped by the fridge and glared at her.

“I think one platinum blond vampire in this town is enough,” she said dryly. “What is this that you were reading?”

Buffy turned the book upside down and back again, while Spike got the last of the blood out to heat in the banged up microwave that he'd nicked from the curb the night after some one had a yard sale.

“It's just an old book of poetry. I read it when I need a laugh," he told her. "You might even like it, because it pokes fun at some of the faculty and professors I had in University.”

Buffy stared at him incredulously. "You went to college?"

"Yes. And you don't have to look so surprised." Spike handed her a cup and sat on the couch. It was so nice to see her smile.

After putting the old book on the table, she took a quick sip before asking, “So, you and Dawn are speaking again?”

He leaned back and took a long drink from his own chipped mug, while he watched her. Buffy appeared relaxed and she asked the question casually, but she was too still. Spike closed his eyes and let the realization sink in that it was important to Buffy that Dawn like him again.

Attempting to keep his tone light, he said, “She declared her forgiveness after much thought on the way home last night.”

She smiled but didn't say anything.

“She's getting older.”

Buffy gave him a confused look. “What?”

“She used my guilt over the whole thing to get me to give her my bomber jacket,” he said dryly.

“Well you have your duster back. Why won't you wear it?”

He looked over at the offending garment beside him and shuddered. He'd worn that thing for twenty plus years as a badge of honor. Every time his confidence waned or he needed a boost, he could look down at it surrounding him, could feel the heavy leather and remember that he was a master. He had the stones to be the slayer of slayers.

Turning his gaze to Buffy, he thought of the times he had run away after an ass kicking by her. One battle may have been lost, but in the end, Spike knew he would win the war. He would run his hands over the cool leather and remember that he'd done it twice and he could do it again.

“Do you know who that belong to before I took it off her dead body?” he asked in a dejected voice.

“The slayer you killed in the subway, right? You told me about it that night before you tried to kiss me in the alley.”

He covered his eyes with an arm and groaned. “Don't remind me. I was nutters to think you'd want to kiss me after I described in graphic detail how I killed two of your sister slayers.”

“Imagine how I felt. I wanted you to kiss me and I hated myself for it.”

Spike sat up on the edge of the couch with an open mouth stare. She had rendered him speechless. He thought he'd felt a connection with her that night. Buffy looked mighty uncomfortable now.

“What was her name again?” she asked and picked at some lint on her skirt. “The slayer in New York?”

He sobered up at the thought of her. “Nikki Woods. She was a beautiful, strong woman.”

“If you didn't kill her, she would have killed you. It was her calling,” Buffy said softly.

He smiled sadly, thankful that she was trying to cheer him up. “The thing is, I went to New York and sought her out. I didn't have to.”

She got up and sat between him and the duster. “But you're a different vampire now. You have a soul and you've saved people even when you just had a chip.”

“Anything good I did with the chip in my head was all about you.”

She rolled her eyes and dragged the duster over her lap. “I think you should wear it; this is a coat for a rebel.”

“I'm just a pussy cat now, love.”

“Hah! I don't think so. How many vampires go looking to get their soul back? Tell me that, Mr. Soft and Fuzzy.”

“I was the demon's only customer to ever ask for a soul,” he told her proudly and smiled as he thought about it.

“See that's what I mean. You are a rebel and I like you that way.” She stood up and held the duster upright. “Besides, the first time I ever saw you, you were wearing this thing. “ He looked up at her. “And that same night that you told me about how you got this duster, when you came into my yard with that shot gun, the bottom of this coat was flowing behind you. I have so many memories of you wearing it.”

“We should go.” He stood up and looked around the crypt, avoiding her direct gaze. It was dark now and one candle was not enough to brighten the place up.

She groaned. “Yeah, we should. Here.” She held out the coat. “Put it on.”

Spike rounded the couch and went for the door before saying firmly, “No.”

She followed with the black leather coat in her outstretched arms. Buffy looked at him with pleading eyes and she stuck out her lower lip.

“Don't do that,” he complained. “It just makes me wanna kiss you and we have to go.”

She sucked her lip back in and bit down on it. That was even worse. Spike closed his eyes for a minute and when he looked at her again, she was scowling at him.

“How about this then.” Buffy forced the duster at him with a jerky motion. “Put the damn thing on!”

He started at her tone and smirked at her. “Right, then.”

He turned around and backed up as she held it out from him. Spike stayed with his back turned while he adjusted it. It felt the same. Heavy. He rolled his neck, jumped twice, and turned to her with a grim face.

Buffy's arms were folded across her chest and she looked him up and down before a slight grin came over her face and turned into a full smirk. “There's my Spike.”

He walked around her and she turned in a circle following him until her back was to the door. He gently pushed her against it and whispered in his deep voice, “Yours, am I?”

She kept her eyes on her hand as she put it on his chest. He waited, for what felt like forever, for her to look up. When she did, she stared at him with resolve and nodded her head slightly. Grabbing her by the shoulders Spike pulled her closer, their lips smashed together, and while they generated no real heat, he felt like he was going to combust.

She forced her hands up between his arms and pulled the hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned and moved his hands to her thighs. He rubbed at her thighs until her skirt was high enough that he could get to her knickers. It was a lacy little bikini thing and he pulled at the elastic with his thumb and let go. The snapping sound echoed in the room and Buffy whimpered as she wrapped a leg around him.

She pulled her lips from his and the look she gave him was hot and needy. She leaned in, kissed, and sucked on his neck. Spike opened his eyes, stared at the door, and came to his bloody, downright intrusive senses. He let out a frustrated groan and stepped back so he could push her skirt down properly.

“What?” Buffy looked around.

He put a finger up. “We are supposed to be taking it slow.” He put up a second finger. “They were expecting you at sundown and it's way past that now.” A third finger went up. “And they are going to come looking for you if we don't get moving.”

She sighed and yanked his hand down before adjusting his shirt and duster. Holding back a grin Spike followed her out the door and went past her. She slammed it shut, the ground below them vibrating with the force.

“This is all your fault,” she said in a frustration.

“What are you blathering on about now?” Spike frown, not sure what she was getting at.

“What happened back there.” She pointed at him in accusation. “You kissed me.”

“Hey, now. You're the one who forced me to put this coat back on. And-” He glared at Buffy when she opened her mouth to argue, so she snapped her mouth shut. “You started this with all that ownership stuff.”

She threw her hands up in frustration and pushed past him. Catching up with her, Spike turned her towards him and softened his gaze. “I love that you think of me as yours.”

“And I loved that kiss.” She stood tall and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before resuming her brisk walk towards the house on Revello Dr.

He stayed rooted to the spot, and put a hand over his lips. When she realized that he wasn't moving, she stopped and looked over her shoulder and asked, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah.”
 
 
Chapter #9 - Slayage and Scoobies
 


A/N: Beta'd by Slaymesoftly and Spikesdeb. Banner by alwaysjbj

Buffy and Spike sauntered through the dark cemetery, making very little noise as they walked on the concrete path. The crickets were chirping and the moon cast an eerie glow on the gray headstones. She kept her pace slow because she really didn't want to face Giles or Xander.

Buffy was so glad that Spike was keeping quiet when he caught up to her. Their hands bumped together a few times as they walked side by side and each time, she groaned inwardly. She felt like an insecure fifteen year old again, and it made her jumpy. Just minutes ago, they had kissed each other, so there was no reason to feel awkward just walking beside him. Finally deciding she'd had enough of feeling silly, she grabbed his hand and Spike squeezed hers gently.

She was mentally congratulating herself for being a woman to take charge when Spike yanked on her hand and pushed her behind a tree. Staring past her and over her shoulder, he looked peeved. Buffy glanced in the direction he pointed to see a vampire kneeling down on a fresh grave, waiting patiently. At first glance, he appeared to be just a nice businessman in a sharp gray suit, but that inner sense that all vampires have told her what he was.

She turned her attention back to Spike when she heard the rustling of his coat. Fishing the stakes out of his pocket, he handed her one. Buffy stared at it in her open palm and wasn't sure how she felt about the familiar weight and smooth grain of the little piece of wood. This thing was now lethal to her as well. She tried to give it back to him, but Spike shook his head and pointed at the snappy dresser still kneeling at the grave.

Spike sniffed and lifted his shoulders a few times before he vamped out and winked at her. He swaggered over to the grave and stopped when the other vampire stood up.

Buffy followed Spike's path and leaned on a tombstone near the grave so she could watch. In truth, she was glad for the excuse not to be on their way to see everyone, but she couldn't muster up enough concern as to whether or not the vampire who wandered into their territory lived or dusted.

“What do you think you are doing in my graveyard?”

Gray suit did not appear to be concerned as he smiled at Spike. “And who might you be?”

“Name's Spike. And I think you missed the office memo. This cemetery is off limits.”

“Spike?” the other one asked as he moved in a half circle inspecting him. He snorted. “Aren't you the neutered vamp that's gone turncoat?”

“Well I left my white hat back at home, but I don't have a problem ending the likes of you.”

Behind Buffy, the earth started to move and a dirty hand popped out of the ground. She was so engrossed in what was going on in front of her that she missed it. Her attention was fully on Spike, who was just so cute and sexy at the same time when he was posturing. She usually didn't get the chance to sit back and watch, because she was always right in the thick of things. Most often, he would be the one watching her. She shrugged the thought off.

Gray suit jumped at Spike and he stepped aside gracefully, using his elbow to knock the guy in the head. Buffy thought it was a great move so she clapped lightly. Behind her, the newly risen vamp stood up and smacked the dirt off his black tuxedo.

Spike was in full fight mode now as the sound of smacks, kicks and grunts filled the air. The other vampire was strong, but Buffy wasn't worried. She'd fought with and along side Spike so many times that she could tell when he was just toying with his opponent.

She turned her head sharply when she smelled the earthy, newly turned dirt beside her. The fledge gave her a sharp-toothed smile and leaned on the tombstone next to her, his dark hair mussed up and bow tie crooked, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

She stared at him incredulously. Normally a fledgling would either fight or flee from her, but this one said, “My ssire can beat your ssire.”

Her mouth opened slightly and she glanced over at the two older vampires fighting to the death. Spike had gone back to his more human visage but Gray Suit had vamped out--a sure sign of who was in control and going to win.

Understanding dawned on Buffy and she realized that the fledge had no fear of her because she was a vampire, too. Anger bubbled up as she gripped her stake tighter. She had been one of the greatest slayers of modern times and this idiot was gonna know it in a minute.

“Geez, man, I hope he hurries up. I'm sstarving.” The twenty-something looking fledge rubbed his stomach. “Where do you think the besst place for an easy meal iss?”

Spike roared and laughed as he kicked and swung around. She was glad someone was having fun.

Turning her attention back to the vampire at her side, she said, “Look, fang boy, you don't need to worry about your first meal.”

“Why iss that?”

“Because dust doesn't need to feed.” She brought the stake up and then down in a flash of preternatural speed, but the fledge blocked it easily and pushed her away from him.

“Hey! What the hell? Are you nutss or something?”

Looking at her stake, Buffy frowned. Something was way off. The vamp should be floating into a pile of dust at her feet. She was just rusty. That was it. She came at the fledge again and this time he punched her in the stomach. Buffy backed up and hunched over at the same time while uncontrollably vamping out. Pushing past the pain, she tackled him.

They landed hard on the grass and she dropped the stake in her struggle to keep him down below her. He was the strongest fledgling she'd ever encountered and he got out from under her and grabbed at her arm. She saw the stake lying in the dirt, grabbed it and tried again to stake him. Letting go of her other arm, he scrambled back.

Spike stood off to the side looking down at them with his arms folded across his chest. He must have staked gray suit when she wasn't looking. “Hurry up, Summers. We're late for that meeting.”

She glared up at Spike as she got to her feet, not really sure what made her angrier, the fact that she was having so much trouble with a mere fledge, or the fact that she missed the grand finale in Spike's fight. He had as much finesse with a stake as Buffy did and he usually executed the ending with a great flourish.

The young vampire jumped her and they went flying to the ground again. He had her by the neck, which hurt a little, but really, it was kind of a dumb move. It's not like she needed to breathe. He put all his weight and energy into squeezing her neck so she brought the stake up and drove it home.

Buffy turned her face and closed her eyes because vampire dust burned if it got in the eyes and the taste was awful. She stayed flat on the ground with her eyes closed longer than she needed to. Hearing Spike stomp over, she opened one eye and saw a boot by her face.

She clasped his offered hand and he pulled her up. He helped her get more of the dust and some leaves off her back while she brushed at the front.

There was something wrong with that fight. Something was missing, as the vamp was just a fledgling and he should have been an easy kill. She stared at Spike while he brushed a hand across her shoulder and it dawned on her.

“What is it, love?”

“Oh, wow.” She leaned against a headstone when the realization hit her. She looked at Spike in alarm. “I really am not the Slayer anymore,” she said in tone of wonder.

“What are you going on about? Didn't I just see you slay a vampire a minute ago?”

She smiled at him. “You just dusted his sire and you're not a slayer.”

“True, but you are one.”

“Was. I was one.” She started walking towards her house. “The one back there was just a fledge like me. I had years of training and knowledge to my advantage back there, I should have dusted him easy,” she said over her shoulder.

“But you dusted Dru and she was no fledge,” he argued as he caught up to her.

“I caught her by surprise and there was no fight.” He still looked unconvinced. “I'm dead, Spike. I think the power has left me. What ever it was, it's gone.”

Buffy knew she should probably feel some sadness over this revelation, but she couldn't muster up the depression for it. She was no longer the Chosen One. Her step was a little lighter as the weight of the world lifted off her. A giddy feeling crept up on her and she let out a small giggle. She was no longer “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Just Buffy the vampire.

She looked over at Spike who kept stealing glances at her with a wary look and her mood quickly darkened. He had a thing about slayers. Would he still want her, now that she wasn't one? Wouldn't that just be fitting? She finally figures out that she wants him and he goes and changes his mind. Buffy sighed.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy hung back on the porch and let Spike knock. She wasn't as nervous as she had been when they'd left the crypt, but she still wasn't looking forward to dealing with a sad and disappointed Giles.

“You guys are very late,” Dawn said when she opened the door. She hugged Buffy and let her pass.”

“We had a little company at the cemetery,” Spike said in a dry tone. “The Slayer here who is supposedly not a slayer anymore offed a fledgling while I got the sire.”

Buffy mumbled something under her breath, too low for Dawn to hear, and turned towards the living room where Giles was standing up from the couch, but Xander stayed in his seat at the other end. Dawn passed her and sat on the edge of the coffee table.

Walking towards her Giles held out a hand. “May I?”

She looked at his hand not quite understanding what he wanted. Buffy nodded anyway and he gently grabbed her wrist and held on to it like a nurse would at a hospital. He waited a few seconds and released her wrist. Holding it in her other hand now, she watched his drawn and pinched face. It was hard for her to see him so sad. How many times had she seen that same disappointment from something she had done? This was the ultimate.

Giles looked past her and she turned to see Spike leaning against the doorframe to the living room, attempting to appear relaxed.

“Faith says Drusilla did this to you?” Giles asked her.

Faith came into the room and flopped down next to Xander. “I told them that I didn't know much about what happened, but that you two showed up to save me.”

Buffy gazed at Spike again. She couldn't do this alone. Dawn was starring at her with those sad eyes, Xander would barely look at her at all, and Giles was ever the Watcher as he stared at her with cautious curiosity.

“Will you sit with me?” she asked Spike, when their eyes met.

His eyes widened with shock, but he sat on the smaller couch and held an arm out wide for her. Giles frowned at her when she sat next to the vampire and leaned into him. Spike squeezed her shoulder and then later held her hand as she told them about her turning.

Xander narrowed his eyes and glared at Spike. “So Spike just happened to show up here right after all this with a shiny new soul to save the day?”

“No. It was days later that he came back because he felt the distress call from Drusilla when I staked her,” Buffy said.

“You don't have to defend me from him. Let him think what he wants.” Spike gave her hand a final squeeze and stood up. “I'll be on the porch having a smoke.”

Dawn came and sat next to Buffy and they all watched him leave the room and heard the front door shut soundly. Looking around the room, Buffy stifled the need to shield her eyes. It was too bright with every light in the place turned on, and it left very little in the shadows. The familiar furnishing all looked wrong to her now. It wasn't her place anymore.

“So what are we going to do now?” Dawn asked Buffy.


~*~*~*~

Spike got up from his seat on the dimly lit porch when the door opened, but was disappointed when it was Faith who stepped out and closed the door behind her. He leaned on the porch railing.

“Too much for you?” He nodded towards the house. Stomping on his second discarded cigarette, he got out another.

“Yeah, man. They've got to plan everything out and it drives me nuts. Can I have one of those?” She gestured towards the cigarette he was lighting.

He paused and stared at Faith before handing it to her. “Those things will kill you, you know?”

“Not if the Watcher's Council gets me first.” She gave him a smug smile and took a drag.

He frowned at that and waved his hand at the door. “They have any brilliant ideas on how to get them off your back?”

“Not yet. So far, we have agreed that you and Buffy both have souls. I am moving in to Buffy's room and Giles is going to stay permanently in Mrs. Summer's old room. Willow is going to be here tomorrow night and she is moving in with Xander until she gets on her feet again.” She inhaled and then slowly exhaled the smoke. “Oh, and Buffy has no slayer powers.”

“Any clues on why Buffy has a soul?”

Faith glanced at Spike. “Giles seems to know the answer, but he says he needs to consult a certain book before he says more.”

“Who's looking after Dawn?”

“That would be me and Giles.”

Faith didn't sound very excited about the prospect and he wasn't too keen on someone looking after his girl if their heart wasn't in it. He wished Tara were still around.

“Look, don't do us any favors. If you don't want to look after her, tell them that you're the bloody Slayer not a babysitter,” Spike said as he frowned at her, his words harsher than he intended.

Faith looked around as if she thought someone might hear. “It's not that. I like the girl and I'll do my best to help her out. It's just...I mean, I just got out of prison. I never thought I'd be the only slayer. I'm practically taking over Buffy's life here and it doesn't feel right, okay.”

The door opened and Buffy came out holding a suitcase and a backpack.

“So what,” Xander was saying in a high-pitched voice as he followed close behind. “You're just going to forget about what he tried to do to you a couple of months ago?”

“Xander-”

“Okay. You're a vampire now, but you have a soul. You don't have to move in with...that.” He pointed at Spike. “And...and live in a crypt in a dirty cemetery!”

Spike was surprised to hear this. She was moving in with him permanently? He reached over, grabbed the suitcase from Buffy, and held on tight to it.

Faith stepped in between Buffy and Xander. “Leave her alone, Xander. She can do what she wants.”

Xander glared at Faith. “Who do you think you are? Stay out of this.”

Faith pushed him against the house and got in his face. “I'm the slayer. I'm stronger than you are, smarter than you are, and I can kick your ass. Buffy doesn't need your shit right now, so knock it off.”

He pushed her away from him and went up to Buffy. “I care about you and I only want what's best for you.”

Buffy touched his shoulder, smiling sweetly at him. “I know Xander. I care about you, too.” She looked back at Spike. “You ready to go?”

They walked down the steps together and down the path. Dawn came running out of the house and stopped at the steps. “Buffy, wait!”

She caught up to them and Spike felt for her. She was the one who got the worst deal from all of this.

Once she caught her breath she said, “I...I feel so selfish.” She looked down and put her hands in her jean pockets.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Buffy put her arm around her.

“I'm glad you're here and not dead, even if it means you're a vampire. Is that okay?”

Buffy smiled at her. “Of course it's okay.” She looked at Spike and then back at Dawn. “I'll tell you something. I'm glad, too.”

Dawn hugged her tight, the two sisters comforting each other for a minute before Buffy stroked Dawn's hair from her face and smiled.

“Why don't you come over right after school tomorrow and you can tell me all about your first day before we all go over and see Willow?”



 
 
Chapter #10 - I'm Here
 


a/n: Thank you slaymesoftly and spikesdeb for the beta work on this chapter. I made some small changes right before posting so all mistakes are mine alone. This is my first attempt at NC-17. Feedback and Con-crit is welcomed.

Chapter Ten: I'm Here


The crypt was dark and quiet. Buffy tossed her backpack down to the lower level while Spike lit a few candles. The soft glow of pale light felt right. This place was feeling more and more like home to her and it didn't give her the wiggins to think so. She dragged her suitcase over and pushed it down into the lower level, too.

“I kind of just invited myself to move in here didn't I?” she told Spike. He'd been awfully quiet on the way back and she wasn't sure what he was thinking.

“That you did, love. But you won't find me complaining.”

“You sure you won't mind sharing your space and your stuff with me?” she teased him.

Spike was in front of her in the blink of an eye. Putting his hands on her waist, he said earnestly, “I will share anything with you. Everything.”

Her body began to hum at his declaration. If his voice hadn't been so sexy, she might have been able to form a coherent thought. She leaned in closer to him. “You know how I said we should take it slow?”

“Yeah.” He tried to back up but she put her hands on his shoulders.

“I'm thinking that was a stupid idea.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she rubbed against him.

“Oh, thank God, cuz just being in the same room with you was driving me crazy.”

Buffy pulled his head down and kissed him. He let out a soft moan when her tongue touched his lips. She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled, while Spike tugged off his jacket with jerking motions that only intensified the kiss. Pulling her head back from him, she yanked the unbuttoned blue shirt off him with a couple of quick tugs. He looked so good with his lips all puffy from the kiss. The blue in his eyes glowed with the candle light and she wanted to melt right there with the look of pure lust he was giving her.

No blood pumped through her system, yet her juices were flowing and she could feel herself getting wet. She wondered briefly how that was possible, but then he was kissing her neck and all thoughts about vampire science fled from her.

Even the clinking sound from the metal on his belt drove her crazy and she fumbled with it to get it undone. She purposely slowed her movement and attempted to ease the zipper down, but he put his hand over hers and stopped her. Spike didn't wear anything under his jeans and if the wrong thing got caught in the zipper, it could definitely kill the mood.

“I'm being careful.”

“Wait,” he practically moaned.

“I don't want to wait.” She tried to push his hand away. “I want now.”

He chuckled lightly. “I was just thinking it might be nice to take this downstairs where there's a bed.”

She looked at him coyly. “A bed would be nice.” Pushing him towards the entrance none too gently, she said, “Hurry!” scampering in front of him and down the ladder.

She landed on the suitcase and tripped on her backpack so she kicked them out of the way before he got down. He went about lighting candle after candle until the whole area surrounding the bed was awash in a bright warm glow that made the walls seem to move and sway with the dancing light.

They stood face to face and gazed at each other.

“There's the bed,” she told him dumbly, not breaking eye contact.

“Yep, there it is. Our bed.”

She closed her eyes and let the word “our” kind of sink in. A couple of months ago, she would have been wound so tightly and probably running away if he'd said that. Now, all her reasons for trying to stay away from him were gone. She wasn't the Slayer. She was just one vampire sleeping with another vampire and she could do whatever the hell she liked. She felt like taking all her clothes off and running through the cemetery with her arms out wide.

She opened her eyes; he was watching her with an expression of awe.

“You are so bloody incredible.”

She blindly grabbed for his t-shirt while she kept her eyes locked with his before pulling it over his head. Spike stood perfectly still before her as she looked down at his finely chiseled torso. His form was like the statues of gods in her mom's gallery, all white, hard marble. She ran her hand over his chest and down his washboard abs. He looked so thoroughly roguish with the belt and top button undone that her hand couldn’t resist following her eyes along the path of fine hair that led into his jeans.

Spike grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss it. He put his hands around her material covered ribs on either side and moved his thumbs to rub the undersides of her breasts. Who knew vampires could get goose bumps?


Buffy leaned in to him and kissed him with all the intensity that was bubbling up inside her. She pressed closer, wanting more as he was going way too slowly. Bending his knees so that they were eye to eye, Spike gently pushed them apart.

“Please,” he pleaded softly. “I need you to let me be good to you. To make up for what I did. For what I would have done.”

She felt she was going to explode with the desire and lust inside her, but she could tell he really needed to do this. “Okay,” she whispered.

He painstakingly undressed her by carefully removing one garment at a time, and when he was done, she kicked the pile of clothes to the side. He let her help him loosen his boots and she felt like a deliciously wanton tease with her head so close to his zipper. She leaned her head against it causing Spike to groan and pull her back up for a kiss while he kicked the boots off. She worked the zipper down and pushed his jeans down over his hips.

Once he had the jeans off, he climbed into bed and she got a great view of his backside. He opened the sheet for her and invited her in. When she was beside him, he enveloped them in the sheet including their heads. The light from the candles filtered through the thin, off-white sheet. The room smelled of candle wax, cigarette smoke, leather and musk.

Spike positioned her so that she was flat on her back and lightly ran a trembling hand up and down her body. “Your skin is so soft.”

She brought her hand up to touch his chest, but he pushed it away and put it back down next to her leg.

“I want to touch you, too.”

“No. If you do, I won't be able to control myself,” he told her in a firm voice.

He began kissing and caressing her from her neck down. She squirmed and did her best to stay still but he was driving her crazy. Spike's hands and mouth were everywhere, so she gathered the sheet in both hands to keep from touching him back.

When he got to her navel, he stilled and she lifted her head up to look down at him. He licked her navel and blew on it. Buffy hissed with the pleasure and he did it again, before moving down a little further and repeating the process.

Spike looked her in the eyes and said in a deep whisper, “I love you.” Then he used his tongue to lightly flick at her folds.

She arched her back and tossed her head from side to side. She was going to go stark raving mad with his gentleness. Spike wet his tongue again, and starting at the bottom of her slit, he slowly licked all the way up until he barely flicked her clit. Unable to control herself any longer, she released her hold on the sheets and grabbed his head.

“Please,” she panted with need.

He placed his thumbs on either side of her clit and gently pushed down and in and began slowly using his tongue. She squealed and bucked and moaned as he worked up to a frantic pace with his tongue and lips. She was so turned on that it didn't take long before she was screaming out in ecstasy.

Spike slowed the pace with his tongue, but kept going. She tried to push his head away because the feeling was getting too intense, but he grabbed her hips and held on tightly. She tried to relax and go with it, but her body went into hyper drive as another orgasm came upon her. Buffy screamed out again and hit him on the head.

“Too much!” she was able to say.

He looked up and smiled at her while he licked his lips and used a finger to enter her. Her eyes rolled back and she dropped her head back onto the pillow, she sat up suddenly and grabbed at him. “No more. I want you.”

Buffy dropped her head back down on the pillow as he moved up, kissing her thighs and then her stomach. He caressed her sides while he paid attention to her overly sensitive breasts with his mouth. He didn't stop her from touching him now, so she ran her hands across his shoulders and rubbed her feet on his thighs. He kissed a trail up her neck and jaw and paused to stare at her. She stared back at his intense gaze and he drank her in with his eyes. He positioned himself between her legs and rubbed himself up and down.

Buffy moved her hips in an attempt to hurry things along, but he was doing things his way. He pushed into her about an inch and stopped. She wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to pull him closer. It had been so long and she felt greedy for him.

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look at her. His tender expression was something she normally would have turned away from and blocked out of her mind. Tonight, she boldly stared back, letting her own emotions show.

“I love you so much,” Spike said with feeling, his voice catching in his throat.

“I love you, too.”

His eyes got wide and she grabbed at his backside to keep him from pulling away from her. She moved her hips. “Don't...stop,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

He surged into her and kissed her at the same time. Buffy moaned into his mouth with the pleasure of it and they moved, danced, together finding a fast rhythm. The pressure was building up again and her muscles tightened. Spike groaned and whispered her name, changing angles slightly so he was hitting just the right spot.

She closed her eyes tight and went over the edge, her walls squeezing and releasing him as he pumped in and out. He let out a short guttural sound that turned into a low moan, slammed into her and stilled.

He relaxed and fell on top of her. Buffy tightened her hold on him to keep him there. She wasn't ready to face him yet and she just wanted to bask in the afterglow. He kissed her neck and rolled them onto their sides. Spike pulled back and gazed at her, so she gave him a tentative smile.

“Was I just dream--Did I really hear you say it?” he asked her in awe.

She reached out to him and they clasped their hands together. She felt liberated from the bonds of her own making and a peaceful euphoria spread all through her body.

“You heard right. I'm in love with you.”

His hold on her hand tightened and he closed his eyes for a second.

Using her other hand, she touched his face and waited until he was ready to look her in the eyes again before saying, “I've been in love with you for a long time now. I just couldn't admit it to myself or anyone else.” It was Buffy's turn to close her eyes. “When I saw you with Anya at the Magic Box, I wanted to go kill something, or go crawl under a rock.”

“I'm so sorry.” Spike scooted closer and took her in his arms.

“No. I mean it was awful that you guys did that--being that she was my friend-- but I did tell you to move on.”

“We didn’t plan that and we were both hurting and drunk.”

“I know that now, but when you showed up that night in my bathroom, I wasn't ready to see any of that. I was using that incident and my anger to remind myself why I shouldn't love you. Then things got crazy and you left.”

“I'm here now,” he said with feeling.

“I'm here, too,” Buffy whispered back before he kissed her again.
 
 
Chapter #11 - Warnings and Satisfaction
 


A/N: Because this is the final chapter, the author's notes are at the bottom.
Banner by alwaysjbj
Betas: slaymesoftly and spikesdeb. Thank you so much, ladies, for working with this newbie.

Unreal Together
Chapter Eleven: Warnings and Satisfaction


Leaves floated along across the way, picked up by the gentle September breeze as they walked together down the street following Dawn. Spike thought the almost full moon looked downright cheerful with the dark yellow haze and thin clouds covering it. He gazed at Buffy and realized that, at this point, everything looked cheerful.

Dawn had come over after school wearing his bomber jacket even though it was ninety degrees out. He'd sat in his chair and watched the girl talk to her sister about how great school was. When she mentioned all the cute boys he mumbled some remark about killing them all, but she just ignored him and went right on gushing.

Now that the sun had gone down, they were on their way to the house to see Willow. He offered to stay at the crypt and to his disappointment, they both protested. He was afraid he was just going to make every one else uncomfortable, but at least he would be with Buffy. Spike glanced at her again and his heart swelled when she smiled back. As he grabbed her hand, he delighted in the fact that she didn't pull away.

How had it happened? Buffy loved him. He had convinced himself that she did a long time ago, and he had been going slowly mad as she denied it. Last night, his wildest dreams had come true and she'd told him, as she looked him straight in the eye. She'd said it more than once and in more than one way. Just the fact that she stayed in bed with him and let him hold her while they slept said it.

Dawn turned back to say something and smiled at them when she saw their linked hands. He quickly let go and Buffy stared at him with one eye closed.

“Don't stop on my account,” Dawn said as she walked backwards before them. “It's only obvious what's going on. I'm mean, gee, you moved in with him.” She gave Buffy a pointed look.

Buffy put her arm around Spike's waist, and he put an arm around her shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at Dawn and she laughed, turning around swinging her backpack as she skipped a little.

~*~*~*~*~

He expected the house to be filled with happy noise when they entered. Instead, they found everyone sitting around the dinning room table: with the exception of Giles, who stood leaning with one hand on the china hutch. Giles gazed, stern and watcher-like, at a strange man who also dressed in tweed. Faith glared at the man and kept her hands on the table, ready to spring up and fight at a moment's notice.

Willow jumped up from her seat next to Xander when she saw Buffy. Spike stayed back by the stairs while Buffy went forward to hug her friend. Dawn hung back behind Spike, and feeling her apprehension, he took a wider stance, stepping closer to the young girl. Whatever had happened with Willow during the summer had really done a number on Dawn.

“Oh, Buffy!” Willow said. “I missed you.” She held her at arms length. “I heard about what happened and I am so sorry. How do you feel?”

“I feel fine.” Buffy glanced over Willow's shoulder at Giles. “Is everything okay?”

The stranger stood up. “No, everything is not okay. One of my operatives is dead, and I want to know who is responsible.”

Spike took a step forward, but Giles pushed away from the china hutch and shook his head at the vampire. Giles stood close, getting in the man's face, and again Spike was glad that Ripper was not directing all that anger at him. The man could be down right scary.

“Listen here, Travers,” Giles said in a low, deadly voice. “Your man is dead because you gave the foolhardy go ahead to assassinate your own slayer. If anyone's to blame, it's you.”

Giles tapped the man firmly on the chest to bring home his point. Quentin Travers glared back at him.

They both stared at Spike when he took that moment to step completely into the dining room. “This is the head of the Watcher's Council, then,” he drawled while pointing at the man.

Travers puffed up a bit. “I am, and you must be William the Bloody. Our very own vampire with a government chip in his head.”

Spike charged forward and shoved the man against the wall while vamping out. Travers' eyes got big but he didn't cringe. “You've got the name right but your intelligence is a little out of date.” Spike got his face up close to his. “I'm a chip-free kind of vamp, you are enemy number one and I'm feeling kinda peckish.”

Travers squirmed and showed real fear now as he pushed at Spike's chest, but the vampire wouldn't budge. Not taking his eyes off of the furious vampire, he said, “Faith, do your duty and stake this monster quickly!”

Xander let out a short laugh, and Faith stood up casually going over to the two of them.

“The only monster I see here is you. Unfortunately, I don't think my stake will have much effect. It might hurt a little though.” She twirled the stake like a gunslinger and shoved it into her back pocket before stepping away and taking another seat.

Spike backed up half a step but gave the man no room to run. He morphed in to his human visage and narrowed his eyes at him. Oh, how he would love to just break the stuffy Watcher's neck and leave him for dead. Trouble was, he could feel how wrong that would be and that made him even angrier.

Directing his anger at Travers, he said, “I'm going to say this once, mate and you'd better get it the first time.” Spike swept his hand over the room. “You see the people here?” Travers just glared at him. “Answer me, you pillock!”

In a haughty tone, Travers said, “Yes, I see them.”

“Each and every one of them is under the protection of this Master Vampire.” He poked at his own chest. “If I find out that you've been asking around or giving orders to have any one of them harmed, you'll wish you were dead.” He was on a roll now and he had the man scared. “Your little chum died right quick and painless when I cracked his neck. Yeah, it was me.” Spike did his best to act proud of the fact. He postured and jerked forward, causing the man to jump. “You won't get off so easy and neither will any of the rest of those wankers back in London.”

He paused for effect and looked around the room. They were all staring at him as if he'd grown an extra head. He did like to shock.

He turned back to Travers. “I mean what I say. I learned the art of torture and just what to do to keep a man alive and coherent while applying the right amount of pain from Angelus. And speaking of the git, if he knew you were trying to off his ex here, he'd join in on the torture.”

“I think it's best if you left for London right away,” Giles told Travers coldly.

Travers hid his shaking well, except for his voice. “Well yes, I'll be getting a flight out tonight. I need to get a cab back to the airport.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Spike glared at him. “Let me make this perfectly clear. Faith and Giles have this hellmouth covered. You just go back to your little organization and Giles will ring you if you're needed.”

Spike got in his face again when the poor agitated man tried to get passed him. Travers stared at the big white hand with nails covered in black polish gripping his shoulder. “I've got contacts in London and I'll know what you're doing.”

Travers wrenched his shoulder away from him and walked towards the door while pulling out a cell phone. He turned to glare at them all before he rushed out and slammed the door.

Then they were all talking at once and Spike fought the urge to put his hands over his ears like a child.

“That was so cool, Spike!”

Willow put a hand to her breast. “Oh, my goddess, when did he get the chip out?”

“I bet he needs to change his tighty-whiteys before he gets on that plane.” Xander joked.

“No shit, man, he was quaking in his loafers,” Faith agreed.

Buffy was silent but she smiled at Spike and he grinned back. She came forward and hugged him and the room was suddenly quiet again. Willow looked a little surprised but she smiled at Spike.

Dropping her backpack onto the table, Dawn spoke up. “I thought Willow might enjoy a quiet movie night for her welcome back celebration, so I got-” She fished in her backpack pulling things out. “Movies. The Princess Bride and a whole bunch of other stuff. Oh, and popcorn and goobers.”

“I love the Princess Bride,” Faith said. “What? I can't like that movie?” she asked when Dawn snickered. “I'll go get some pillows.” She bounded up the stairs and out of sight.

Dawn threw the box of microwave popcorn at Xander. “You're on snack duty.”
He saluted and went to the kitchen. Dawn and Willow went to get the DVD player started, leaving Buffy and Spike with Giles.

“Contacts in London?” Giles asked with a smile.

“I could have contacts in London. Lived there off and on for years. But I don't. Think he believed me?”

“I think he did.” Giles smiled at him and Spike couldn't think of too many times that the man had ever done that. “I'm off to my room, leave you to the frankly uninspiring titled of 'Princess Bride'.”

Spike watched him leave and scratched his head.

“Did he just smile at me?” he asked Buffy.

“I think he did.”

She went on her tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss. That was never enough for him so he pulled her close and kissed her back. He wished they were back at the crypt, but his mind started going through all the places they could hide for a quickie.

“Oh, please!” Faith said behind them. “None of that, in this house, unless I'm invited.”

“You're not invited.” Buffy turned in his arms and glared at the grinning Slayer.

“Well then, I guess we'll all go watch a movie now instead, won't we?” she said cheerfully and threw a pillow at them.

“How long is this movie?” Spike asked with a groan as he ran a hand up and down Buffy's side.

“Too long, but we're going to watch it and make nice with the humans,” she told him seriously.

“Bugger. Can I at least have another kiss to hold me over until later, then?”

~*~*~*~*~

They missed the opening credits but his lips were throbbing and he felt good knowing he had been thoroughly kissed. The group had pushed the smaller couch over at an angle and left it free for them.

He'd seen the movie before-not that he'd ever admit that to anyone-and while it was entertaining, he wasn't in the mood to watch it again. So he watched the people in the room instead. Dawn was at one end of the big couch and Willow sat on the other. Faith sat between them but pressed herself up against Willow. At one point, she even put her hand on the witch's knee. Spike smiled and looked away when Willow firmly grabbed her hand and moved it off without missing a word of dialog on the screen.

Spike thought of Giles upstairs in Joyce's room. That smile had thoroughly blindsided him, but now he wondered why the man wasn't down here with the rest of them. The Watcher was much older than the rest of this group, but he usually joined them for things like this.

Come to think of it, he hadn't even said one word to Buffy tonight. Making a mental note to himself, Spike determined that he would speak to Giles alone soon. What did the man know that he wasn't telling the rest of them? Why was he avoiding Buffy? It just didn't settle right in Spike's mind that Xander would be taking Buffy's turning better than Giles.
.
He stared at the boy as Xander sat stretched out on the floor and munched on his popcorn. He glared at Spike, so the vampire raised an eyebrow at him and licked his teeth, causing Xander to stop in mid chew. Buffy was engrossed in the film already and was oblivious to their little exchange. When he smirked at Xander and put his arm around Buffy's shoulders, she instinctively leaned into him. He sighed in contentment and kissed the top of her head while he stared at Xander.

The boy turned his head and watched the screen with a pained expression. Some things in life or unlife were very satisfying.

- The End -


Final Author's Notes:
I want to thank everyone who took a chance and read something from a new author. I have answers to the questions left open in this story and some ideas for what I'd do for a sequel, but only if there is interest from the readers.

I am very open to con-crit so if you saw things that you feel I need to improve on or have any advice for this newbie, I'd love to hear from you. If you feel uncomfortable leaving con-crit in a review, please feel free to write to me in an email at dawnofme@gmail.com. I promise not to cry and cower in the corner if you write to me with things you saw wrong with the fic. : ) 01/04/08