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Blood of the Sire by BuffyMeetsSpike
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Disclaimer: Not my characters, just playing with them.

And now for more adventures in Beantown!

Chapter 13 – Reunion
It was five o’clock when they awoke, nearly at the same moment. “Afternoon, love,” Spike said. “Sleep alright?”
“Yeah,” she said as she yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Although I don’t know how I’m ever going to get back on anything like a normal schedule after this is all over.”
“Normal’s relative,” Spike noted. “I’ve been putting up with a human schedule for the last year or so. This week’s been the most normal vampire schedule I’ve had in ages.”
Buffy sat up and stretched. “Well, I guess I’ve had to be up all night and all day for so long that I don’t know what my schedule is.” She got up and moved the curtains carefully to look out the window. “Still have some daylight left it seems.”
Spike sat up with a little less than his usual difficulty.  “I’m feeling a touch better today, although I’m not quite up for my usual daylight dash, I’m afraid.”
Buffy stared out the window a bit longer, thinking. “I think if I pull the car real close I can get you into the back fast enough and cover you with the blanket.”
“Afraid I’m going to be a hindrance to you,” Spike said doubtfully.
“I can’t risk her getting away in the time it takes to come back and get you,” Buffy reasoned. “Easier to just keep you close. Besides, you haven’t been any problem thus far. Other than the fact that you hog the covers at night,” she finished with a grin.
“Oi! Do not!” he retorted. Then becoming serious again he said, “I really don’t want you getting hurt, love. Promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks, you hear me?”
“I swear, you’re worse than Dawn,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes. She went over to her bag and rummaged around. The bag yielded a protein bar which she wolfed down greedily before finding some appropriate slaying wear. She disappeared into the bathroom to change and came out a few minutes later, hair pulled back, wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt.
“Like the look, Slayer,” Spike said with a smirk.
Buffy blushed when she realized she had unconsciously put on the same uniform as Spike. She grabbed a denim jacket to throw over it. “Don’t be getting all full of yourself,” she said. “I’m running short on clean clothes.”
“Sure, you are,” Spike drawled. Buffy threw his duster at his face, and sat down to put on her shoes. Spike pulled the duster off his grinning face and shrugged into it before wrestling into his Doc Martens. Buffy went out and turned the car so that the passenger side was as close to the door as she could get it. She left the door open and brought the thick quilt from the back of the car.
“Are you ready?” she asked him.
“Guess we’ll find out,” he said doubtfully. Pulling him to his feet, Buffy threw the quilt over his head, and he wrapped his hands in the thick folds to protect them. Buffy wrapped her arms around him and led him to the threshold, supporting his wavering frame.
“On three,” she said, getting a firm grasp around his waist. “One… two… three!” She heaved him out the door with all her Slayer strength and bustled him quickly into the back of the car, slamming the door behind him. She went around to the driver’s side and jumped in, looking nervously into the back seat. “Are you alright back there?”
“Barely smoking,” he said, his voice muffled under the blanket. “We’d better get going though. Sundown’s in an hour or so.”
Buffy drove off, trying to navigate traffic and consult the map next to her at the same time. She wasn’t particularly successful. “Shit!” she said as she missed a turn, again. She pulled over on a side street and picked up the map, turning it this way and that way, looking at the nearby street signs, and cursing under her breath. “I don’t know where the hell I am!” she cried at last.
“Hand me the map,” Spike said from under his blanket.
“How are you going to read a map under a blanket?” she asked, exasperated.
“Vampire,” came the muffled reply. “I don’t need much light. Now give it over.” Buffy carefully slid the map under Spike’s quilt, defeated by the Boston streets. “What’s the nearest cross street?” Spike asked.
Buffy squinted at the nearest street signs. “We’re on Kingsley Street. The big street up ahead is North Harvard.”
Cautiously lifting a corner of the quilt to let in a little more light, Spike studied the map. “Alright, I think I’ve got it. You want to turn left on North Harvard and follow that for a while.”
“Thanks,” Buffy muttered. “Remind me to kiss Revello Drive when I get back home.”
“Duly noted,” Spike muttered. He called out directions as needed from his awkward position, but Buffy still managed to miss a turn or two since she couldn’t always understand his muffled instructions. “I said left!” he called at one point.
“I can’t go left if they won’t let me in!” Buffy yelled back. She narrowly missed being sideswiped by an SUV as she managed to get into the left lane and speed through the yellow light. “Now what?” she asked. “I’m on… Cambridge Street.”
“Keep going,” Spike said. “You should see that big hospital coming up on the left.”
“Got it,” Buffy said. She attempted to relax, but she had lost a lot of time being lost, and the sun was nearly down. So much for my surprise daytime attack, she grumbled to herself. She supposed she could have left earlier, but she had been exhausted and the sleep had been most welcome. Truth be told, she could have stayed lying next to Spike for another seven hours. She didn’t know exactly how it had happened, but they had become some sort of couple. More astonishing than that, she felt good about it. She felt in control and content, in a way that she hadn’t since she crawled out of her grave. She really wanted to have time to figure this all out. Her hands clutched the steering wheel nervously, hoping with all her might that they would get that time.
She finally came to the street leading up the hill, and she threaded her way between the parked cars in the fading daylight. Up ahead she saw the black door of the house that was their destination. She pulled up in front of it and turned off the ignition. “Ok,” Buffy began, reaching for her bag of weapons. “I’m going to go in there and take her down. When she’s incapacitated, I’ll come out and get you.”
Spike chafed about being left behind. “Don’t like this one bit,” he growled. “Feel like a useless sack of shite here.”
Buffy got out and came around to his side, opening the door and cautiously lifting the quilt to see his face. She gave him a gentle kiss and said, “Never useless, Spike. Now let me go get this done so we can get you back to normal, okay?”
“Take care, Slayer,” he urged her. She covered him back up and closed the door. She settled her bag on her shoulder and checked to make sure her amulet still hung between her breasts. Taking a deep breath, she mounted the steps and tried the doorknob. It turned, and the door creaked open slowly. Stake in hand, she stepped into the darkened hallway.
Bryan had enjoyed being a vampire from the start. He had been staggering home after a frat party when what he thought was a young Goth chick started hitting on him. He had followed her into an alley which she claimed led to her apartment, and had hardly known what was happening before suddenly he was waking up, buried in a tiny backyard behind an empty house on Beacon Hill. His mysterious dark woman had taught him how to hunt, and he had amused himself greatly by thinning out the herd of homeless people who hung out at the Boston Common. Another young vampire named Daniel was part of their little family as well, and they each were called upon to service their mistress in turn. Daniel was starting to spend more and more time away from the house of late. Bryan could understand why – the ravings did get on his nerves after a while. Still, she was a good lay, and good at luring in the prey, and he didn’t have anything else going on at present. He was hanging out in the living room of the empty house, waiting impatiently for the sun to go down and Drusilla to finish dressing and dealing with her hair so they could go hunt.
He heard the creak of the door and wondered who it could be. Probably someone from the real estate agency, he surmised. He got up and vamped, licking his lips in anticipation of a meal. Quietly creeping over to the door, he prepared to spring out into the hall.
“Greetings,” said a bright female voice. The small blonde owner of the voice stepped into the room and staked the surprised Bryan before he could make another move. The stunned look on his face was comical for a moment before he fell to dust at her feet. Buffy turned and scanned the room, reaching out with all her senses to figure out where the next target was.
In front of her vanity, Drusilla paused in her toilette. She had been so engrossed in a tune in her head that she hadn’t heard the door open, but now she became aware of a human heartbeat. Puzzled, she got up and set down her hairbrush. “Did you bring me a treat, my knight?” she asked as she opened the door.
“Hello, Drusilla.”
Drusilla hissed, stepping back warily. “Slayer. Wicked Slayer.”
“Glad to see you too,” Buffy said, stepping forward into the room.
“Why are you here, so far from your chattering little band? Have you tired of my William already?” Drusilla asked, her voice taking on its usual hypnotic tone.
Buffy dropped her bag and pulled out a stake. “Really don’t want to dust you right now,” she said, as the two women stalked around each other in a slow circle. “Spike needs your blood to survive. This will all go a lot smoother if you cooperate.”
“You lie, nasty bit of sunshine,” Drusilla growled. “I would know if my Spike were near. The stars whisper when he comes to visit his dark princess.” Her brain strained as she tried to force her way into the Slayer’s thoughts. Something was very wrong. “Why is your mind shrouded in black velvet and lace? Cheating, you are.” They continued circling like tigresses, dark eyes fixed on green ones, neither one blinking or looking away.
“Just one of my little secrets,” Buffy said. “Now, are you going to help, or are you going to keep blathering all night?”
In response, Drusilla snarled and pounced, her long fingernails like claws aiming for Buffy’s eyes. Buffy ducked under her outstretched arms and rammed her shoulder into Drusilla’s midsection. Her momentum carried them both onto the floor where they rolled and wrestled. Buffy got a good shot to Drusilla’s jaw, which rocked the vampire’s head back, but those razor sharp fingernails found purchase in Buffy’s shoulder and ripped into cloth and skin. “Fucking bitch!” Buffy growled, hitting her again and again. “That was my last clean shirt!”
They fought on, rolling on the ground and struggling together until Buffy was at last on top, pounding away as best as she could at the writhing creature below her. Drusilla’s vampire strength was given an extra boost by her madness, and she was a tougher opponent than she looked. She kept trying to fix her gaze on the Slayer’s, and she was confused as to why it wasn’t working. Has the sight left me? Did I anger the stars? A kernel of fear was forming in the very small rational part of Drusilla’s brain as she strove to throw Buffy off, and it was not a welcome feeling. Buffy got her hands around Drusilla’s neck and squeezed, banging her head against the floor in an effort to knock her out.
Suddenly a male voice called out, “Mistress? Are you here?” The sound drew Buffy’s attention just enough for Drusilla to free one of her hands and claw at Buffy’s shirt. Drusilla’s eyes widened as she saw the amulet dangling at her neck. Buffy landed one more punch and felt Drusilla go limp beneath her. She jumped to her feet, grabbing her extra stake from her waistband with a fluid movement. “Mistress?” came the voice again as another blond male vampire stepped in from the hallway. “Who the hell are you?” he blurted out when he spied Buffy.
“No time for discussion,” Buffy said as she lunged at him. He got a hand up to block her and she had to kick his knee out before she staked him. “Sorry we couldn’t be properly introduced,” she said as she brushed the dust from her hands. Before she could turn around she felt a sharp tug at her neck and whirled to see Drusilla holding the amulet.
“Pretty thing,” Drusilla crooned as she studied the stone, which turned and dangled on its chain. “It sings louder than the stars. But now you can hear me. Look into my eyes. Be in me…” Buffy’s blood ran cold as she struggled not to obey.

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