Chapter 7 - What big Teeth You Have

Spike cradled Buffy against his chest as he moved silently through the gathering dusk. Now that he wasn’t frantic with worry over his slayer, he was able to drink in the beauty of the evening. The glowing sky made a breathtaking foil for the stark, black silhouettes of trees. Yellow gleamed at the horizon, flowing into a glowing orange, then to pink, turquoise, lavender, and finally purple before fading to black. It was a study in contrasts, like he and Buffy. The cadences of a poem started to form in his mind...no. Maybe later. Now he needed to set things right with his woman. Huh, he thought. The poetic juices are flowing again. Isn’t that just...neat. Yesterday he would have rejected those thoughts as being wussy. It seemed he was going to be able to accept that part of himself better now.

Entering his crypt, Spike laid Buffy down on the sofa while he pushed an old sarcophagus in front of the door to keep her snoopy friends from barging in during the middle of things. He’d have to see about rigging up a bar for the door, or maybe now that he was with the Slayer, he should be thinking about somewhere else to live. A feeling of joy flooded his heart as he thought about Buffy being his. Picking her back up and holding her close, Spike bypassed the ladder to the lower level and jumped down, landing lightly on the balls of his feet. Laying her on the bed, he moved around the room lighting candles, liking the ambiance of soft flickering light. Then he stripped both of their clothes off. He didn’t fancy ending up slashing through them again. Of course, she’d probably belt him in the jaw for the effrontery, but he might as well be hanged for a wolf as a lamb.

Climbing into the bed with her, Spike brought his demon features forward, slashed his wrist with a claw, and held it against her mouth, willing her to drink. She just lay there, blood pooling in her mouth, so he massaged her Adam’s apple downward, whispering, “Swallow, Buffy, swallow...Drink, sweetheart, drink...Swallow, baby, swallow...” Finally her throat worked and she swallowed. Moving over her, Spike slipped his fangs into her neck. Her life giving blood flowed down his throat. Suddenly they were linked mind to mind, and he found her curled up in a ball, rocking and whispering, “How could I have done it again?...I can’t kill him, I love him...I have to...but I can’t...”

Spike lifted her from the floor of her mind and shook her, saying, “Buffy, how could you have so little faith in me? How could you think I’d do something so’s you’d have to kill me?!” As her head flopped back on her neck, he shook her again, “Didn’t you pay attention to ANYTHING that came through the mating?”

She opened her eyes and stared at him in surprise, “Huh?”

“Well, pay attention NOW, Slayer! Watch,” he punctuated with a third shake.

And into Buffy’s mind flowed Spike’s history, from his pre-existence as one of the Slayer’s most valiant warriors, to their being overrun by sheer numbers and losing the war, to the banishment of the Slayer, Spike’s endless torment as punishment for following her, and finally being given William’s body. She saw Spike’s life with Angelus, Darla, and Drusilla, how they tortured and abused him, and how he became vicious and deadly out of self defense. Finally she witnessed Dru leaving him, his falling in love with her, Buffy, and the change that gradually came over him through that love.

Buffy realized that she had seen all this during the mating, but had been so confused and overwhelmed by what was happening, that she hadn’t been able to understand it, and had shut it out as sensory overload. Lastly she lived again their mating, her collapse, Spike carrying her through the sunshine, and his confrontation with her watcher; then she woke up. Tossing his wrist aside, she struck at his neck, swallowing the blood that flowed there, and crying, “Mine!”

“Mine!” Spike roared back, and they erupted into passion.

Later they lay quietly, Buffy mulling numbly over what she had learned about the Slayer. It seemed surreal. How could it be a vampire demon that gave her the instincts and strength of a slayer, a vampire demon that “made” her a slayer? It was mind-boggling. Her whole life was unbelievable. Just the existence of vampires was ridiculous, let alone that one of them had turned against their kind and taken mankind’s side. Unbelievable that that vampire repeatedly possessed human girls, made them into superwomen and had been fighting for humans with them down through the ages, against other vampires and demons.

It made her head hurt and she wished she could just deny it all, like she was used to doing with things that she didn’t want to accept. But she couldn’t deny it. Something inside her was telling her that it was the truth; was yelling at her to buck up and accept reality. Something inside her was shouting, ‘You aren’t some weak, pathetic little girl that has to deny what is real in order to protect your sanity! If you were, I’d never have “chosen” you in the first place!’ With a start, Buffy realized that the part of herself that she had always thought of as her slayer instinct, was actually an entirely different person, a sentient being; a fierce, primal warrior for the Light--the Slayer. The conviction flowed through her that she, Buffy, was a strong, fierce warrior in her own right, and she was worthy of the Slayer Demon...Worthy of a demon. Huh...

Spike lay quietly on his side, giving her some time and space to take it all in. Gazing at her, he thought that she looked different, somehow. With a shock, he realized what it was. Clapping his hand to his neck, he fingered the wounds and remembered that Buffy’s last bite had felt sharp, like a puncture, not like a dull, tearing human bite. Buffy’s incisors had lengthened, sharpened, and formed elegant, lethal fangs! Suppressing both feelings of panic and roars of excitement, he searched her face, noting that her beauty was unmarred and her other teeth were as straight as normal, but definite fangs had dropped. He gently laid his hand over her heart, feeling as well as hearing the reassuring ‘lub-dub’; finding comfort in the continued warmth of her body. Tentatively, he touched his finger to the tip of her incisor and showed her the drop of blood that formed on it.

Buffy was immediately diverted from her newfound self knowledge and shot up off the bed to look in the mirror, gaping at her reflection in horror. “You DID turn me after all!?!” Rage filled her mind and she glared into the mirror at her fangs, tensing to swing around and beat the hell out of that lying vamp. ‘I’ll make him sorry he ever met me! He’ll need to be healed all over again by the time I’m finished with him!’ she growled to herself, then belatedly registered what she was seeing there. ‘Oh, wait...I still have a reflection...whoa, so do you!’

Crossing the room, Spike snuggled into her from behind and ran his fingers soothingly up and down her arms. “Didn’t turn you, love. It’s too soon. You’d still be dead, remember? Your heart is still beating and you’re warm, yeah? No blood lust? No brow ridges?”

With each of his questions, Buffy calmed a little more. She focused on the beating of her heart. ‘Silly not to have noticed that with it pounding away like a sledge hammer,’ she thought, and traced her fingers searchingly over her face. ‘No, no brow ridges. And no craving for blood, well, except perhaps for an occasional taste of Spike’s,’ she smirked to herself, then felt amazed that she wasn’t repulsed by the very thought of it. Apparently her attitudes were changing as well as her abilities, like Spike had said they would.

Examining her teeth in the mirror, Buffy realized that she now had the vampire’s “built in weapon” that Spike had warned her about back when she had asked him how he’d killed two slayers. She doubted she’d ever actually use that weapon; after all, biting a smelly demon? Ugh. Concentrating on hiding the fangs, Buffy watched them retract into normal looking teeth and grimaced.

Maybe the fangs weren’t as horrifying, though, as she’d originally thought. Perhaps they could even be handy to have as a back up in emergencies, like if she lost her stake; a weapon of last resort, say. ‘Secret Weapon Slayer here, all baddies beware!’ She grinned to herself, but thought that she’d keep this one upgrade just that, a “secret weapon.” Except with Giles. She supposed he’d have to know. Turning to face Spike, she asked, “Why’d I get fangs, anyway?”

“Must’ve been your slayer demon, sweetheart. Prob’ly figures fangs are a plus, so gave ‘em to you. She is after all a vampire, ‘course she sees the advantage in them.” Grinning, he added, “Or maybe she just wants to be able to slip a tooth into me as handily as I can you,” he smirked, tongue reaching out to touch his top lip sensuously. “There’s no record of fangs appearing in plain human/vampire matings, so it has to have been the Slayer.”

Buffy pouted at that. ‘I think I preferred the old title, “slayer essence” to “slayer demon”. It just sounds more elegant,’ she thought. ‘Hypocrite’ she heard laughingly in her mind. ‘Well, I don’t understand why the Initiative didn’t register me as a demon, anyway, since you’re here inside me. Pretty sneaky of you, being able to hide from the Initiative.’

Buffy felt the satisfaction of the Slayer, and frowned. She had a feeling the Slayer Demon was something she’d never fully understand, and she didn’t like it when that happened. It made her feel dumb, and feeling dumb made her feel ornery. On top of that, it was humiliating; something else that made her ornery. Buffy was forced to realize that she’d always felt superior to demons, that she was a snob about them. Now she had to acknowledge that at least one was superior to her. Not only that, she thought morosely, she had a demon inside her, might even be considered a demon herself, by some. ‘Stubborn girl, don’t quibble, just accept, so we can meld,’ she felt inside.

To shut her slayer self up, Buffy asked Spike archly, “So...why didn’t you tell me about you and the slayer demon before?” She was so in the mood for a good fight. If he knew what was good for him, he’d indulge her.

Spike raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Didn’t remember the personal stuff until we mated, now, did I? You know that, Slayer. Besides, even if I had known and told you, would you have believed me?”

Buffy scowled. Her argument plan wasn’t going very well. He was being too logical. “So why didn’t you at least tell me I have a demon in me? You knew THAT!”

Patiently he reiterated, “Again, would you have believed me? Besides, thought you already knew. Isn’t that what watchers are for? To teach you slayers what’s what? Although it seems he didn’t even know until I told him. Stupid git watchers.” He shook his head at the idiocy of humans.

Loathe to leave it without a fight, Buffy tried a new tack. “So do I need to be jealous of the Slayer demon? You loved her first, did you think I wouldn’t see? That you loved her way back in the beyond? It’s really her you love and not me at all, isn’t it?” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she realized that she meant them. ‘Why WOULD he love me, when he has a slayer demon? I’ve never been able to hold onto a man,’ and with a cry she leapt in a single bound to the top floor of the crypt and turned to rush out, heedless of the fact that she wasn’t wearing anything.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” Spike roared and leaped after her.

Tbc…