Chapter 26
 
 
Spike was half way up the stairs when he heard Buffy’s voice behind him.
 
“Spike!”
 
He stopped and looked down.
 
“Have you got the condoms? Don’t forget what Tara said.”
 
“Yeah, got them here.” He patted the bulge in his duster pocket.
 
Buffy held up a length of ribbon. “Here, you’ll need some of this too.”
 
Spike’s eyes went wide. “I’m not using that!”
 
“But… to tie the condom and put it around your neck…”
 
“Buffy, it’s bleedin' pink! The Big Bad does not do pink!” He turned and continued up the stairs. “Don’t worry love, I’ll find something else.”
 
Spike scouted around for a while, but came up with nothing suitable. Finally he stood in the doorway to the room into which Drusilla had moved while he’d been confined to that bloody wheelchair. The one she’d shared with Angelus.
 
He’d avoided this room since he’d returned to Sunnydale and moved into the mansion. In his experience, smell was the sense which prompted the strongest memory recall, and he had no wish to pick up the faintest whiff of what might linger of the shared scent his sire and grandsire would have left behind.
 
Clenching his jaw, he deliberately stopped breathing and entered the room.
 
They’d abandoned a lot of stuff when they’d left town in such a hurry, so it didn’t take him long to find one of the slinky silk nightgowns that Dru favoured when she was intent upon seducing her precious Daddy.
 
Spike pushed aside the mental image which the thought prompted, and quickly ripped off the narrow ribbon shoulder straps. They weren’t black, but the deep crimson was almost as good. He dropped the remainder of the garment on the floor and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
 
A few minutes later, he’d shed his clothes and was standing under the hot spray of the shower, willing the soap and water to obliterate Dru’s scent. It had no place in what was about to happen.
 
He rinsed thoroughly and turned the water off, then chanced a shallow inhale. Nothing but the herbal scent of the shampoo and the sandalwood soap he’d used. He closed his eyes, lifted the ribbon-tied condom directly under his nose and took a deep breath, mouth slightly open to catch the slightest hint of scent. There was an echo of Buffy’s musk from that morning, but otherwise there was nothing but the usual smells he would expect in a bathroom.
 
Satisfied, he quickly towelled off and gelled his hair back as usual.
 
When he emerged into the bedroom, he looked around and clicked his tongue at the mess. Not an issue he usually bothered about but tonight was special. For their claim, Buffy deserved to have her surroundings presented like a human’s honeymoon suite.
 
First order of business was getting the fire relaid and lit.
 
 
~*~*~*~
 
 
Buffy flushed when she realised that she was scraping out the last tiny remnants of lasagne from the dish. It was the same quantity her mother always prepared for freezing, intended to provide a satisfying comfort meal for all three Summers women.
 
She furtively glanced around, checking for witnesses to her greed, then rolled her eyes at her own silliness and got up to put the dish in the sink to soak.
 
Picking up the extra bag she’d brought from Revello Drive, she climbed the stairs.
 
She paused in the doorway to their bedroom and smiled appreciatively. Spike was naked. He was crouched before the fireplace, cautiously nursing the fire into life. His skin was still slightly pink from the heat of the shower and while his hair was slicked back, it was still damp so the soft curls at the nape of his neck were beginning to spring to life.
 
Oh, and he was naked.
 
Buffy licked her lips and stepped forward.
 
“See something you like, love?” Spike said without looking around, deliberately rotating his shoulders and tensing his thighs to highlight the powerful muscles of his back and buttocks.
 
She walked towards him, saying, “Oh, yes.” At the last moment, she quickly ruffled his hair to release his bouncy curls and said, “But I prefer it curly.” She evaded his reaching hand, giggled at his frustrated growl and darted out of his reach to lock herself in the bathroom.
 
It turned out that rock dust was easier to wash out of her hair than greasy vamp dust or sewer slime, so she only needed to shampoo, rinse and repeat three times before she was happy. Eager to get back to Spike, she quickly conditioned then lathered herself with her favourite bodywash. After rinsing, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel, shaking her head with a wry smile when she saw the hotel monogram on the corner.
 
After she’d combed the tangles from her hair and expertly wound it around her giant rollers, she dug her hair dryer out of her bag.
 
That was when she hit a snag.
 
She looked everywhere, but there was no power socket in the bathroom.
 
She realised that she’d have to go and dry her hair in the bedroom, but she was nowhere near ready for Spike to see her in her rollers!
 
With a resigned sigh, Buffy abandoned her plan for a bouncy, wavy hairstyle. She ditched the towel and put on her new sexy chemise. It was ivory satin with gold lace trim and was barely long enough to brush the tops of her thighs, and it had a very deep V back, only held together by a criss-cross of fine spaghetti straps. She struck a provocative pose in front of the mirror. She grinned. Spike was going to drool. She made a disgruntled moue when she realised that her hair was unfortunately going to ruin the overall effect by being… totally random.
 
She slipped on her warm robe and draped a dry towel around her shoulders before unwinding her hair and combing it out again.
 
Without thinking, she tucked the little wooden figure of a woman into the pocket of her robe.
 
Armed with her hair dryer in one hand and her round styling brush in the other, she opened the door to the bedroom.
 
She gazed around the room in wonder. “Oh, wow!” The bed was freshly made and turned back, and the sour crushed rose petals from the previous night had all been cleared away. All the clothes which had been scattered about had been picked up, and the brightly dancing fire and lots of candles were making the room feel warm and welcoming.
 
“Love what you’ve done with the place.”
 
Spike turned from lighting the last of the candles and smiled. “All finished, love?” he asked, flicking off the ceiling light and approaching her.
 
“Uh, not so much.” She held up her hair dryer, blocking him from embracing her. “I need to dry my hair before it does its own thing and dries into a haystack on my head.” She looked around. “Uh… is there a mirror in the house?”
 
“Sorry, love. All the mirrors tend to get smashed or chucked out when vampires take over. You’re lucky this room wasn’t used before, or there wouldn’t be one in the bathroom.” He glanced around and indicated a handy socket beside the bed.
 
“Here you are, love,” he said, taking the dryer from her and plugging it in.
 
He sat her on the bed and took her brush, then clambered up to sit behind her. “Let me help.”
 
“Wait… you know how to style hair? Some Big Bad you are,” Buffy sniggered.
 
“I’ll have you know I used to do Dru’s all the time,” Spike protested. “Ate a posh hairdresser in Paris in the twenties. Maybe something stuck."
 
Buffy scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Okay, that’s a visual I could’ve done without,” she muttered as Spike switched on the dryer and set to work.
 
After only a couple of minutes, the hairbrush caught in the damp pink ribbon around her neck so she reached up to untie it and take it out of the way. While Spike carried on with her hair, she carefully unwound the ribbon and pulled the condom off the amulet before retying the ribbon around the little muslin pouch. With her neck currently inaccessible, she bound it around her left wrist and tied it neatly, pulling the knot tight with her teeth.
 
The fire had warmed the room sufficiently for Buffy to be able to relax into Spike’s gentle pampering. She wondered how he was managing to style her hair, occasionally winding strands around the brush to dry them, without tugging on a single tangle. She’d never even managed that herself.
 
She suddenly realised that Spike’s occasional feather-light caresses of her throat, neck and jaw as he handled her hair weren’t accidental. A cool finger stroked from the sensitive spot behind her ear down to her jaw, and a delicious tingle shot straight to her core.
 
Resolving to return the erotic teasing, she undid the tie belt of her robe and then casually tugged off the towel. She reached to put it at the end of the bed, making sure that as she did so, her loosened robe slid down to expose her bare shoulders.
 
The way the robe fell lopsidedly to one side brought her attention to the little statuette weighing down her pocket. She dug it out and placed it on the night table, giving it a tender little pat on the head.
 
When Spike dropped a kiss on her shoulder, following it up with a playful nibble, Buffy responded by stroking up his leg. She deliberately stopped short of his groin and left her hand resting lightly on his thigh, feeling the muscles under her hand twitch as she continued to tantalise him with gentle touches.
 
It seemed that in no time, Spike was giving her hair one final pat and turning off the dryer. “There, love,” he said. “All done.”
 
Buffy made the decision to extend the teasing. She stood up, allowing her robe to slide completely off to display the spaghetti straps criss-crossing the deeply cut V which displayed her toned back to perfection.
 
She threw the robe across the foot of the bed then added a little seductive sway to her hips as she walked across the room, causing the silky fabric of her chemise to swish deliciously over her skin. She raised a hand to feel her hair and as she passed into the bathroom, she said airily, “I simply gotta check this out!”
 
She headed straight for the mirror and was instantly transfixed by her reflection. Spike had created a style similar to her favourite loose bouncy waves, but at the same time was totally different. He had given her a low, straight side parting, and while the left side fell past her shoulder in natural-looking waves, the fuller right side had a defined smooth wave that curved in, almost hiding her eye, before curling back towards her shoulder.
 
It was utterly gorgeous.
 
 
~*~*~*~
 
 
For a few seconds after Buffy had disappeared into the bathroom, Spike sat motionless in shock, bereft at her sudden desertion. Then with an impatient grunt, he dumped the hair dryer and brush and followed her.
 
He found her staring at her reflection in the mirror. She slowly raised one hand to stroke back the wave beside her eye and smiled when she released it and it fell straight back into place. There was no sign of the slayer. This was the pure California girl, intent upon her appearance. He didn’t get to see her very often.
 
He stepped up behind her and looked into the mirror over her shoulder. “Looks even better on you that it did on Veronica Lake. D’you like it, love?”
 
She gave a little start then turned to glance up at him. “Does it? Who?”
 
“The peekaboo look, love. Veronica Lake. Film star in the forties.”
 
When Buffy continued to look at him blankly, Spike said, “Ask your mum. She’ll have heard of her.”
 
Buffy turned her head from side side, examining her reflection with a contemplative expression on her face. Her pretence of gravity was blown when a smile tugged at her lips and she nodded, announcing, “It’s perfect, honey. You’ve passed the boyfriend hairstylist test. You’re hired.”
 
Spike chuckled. “Very glad to hear it, love.”
 
His gaze strayed downwards from the reflection of her face to the golden lace confection which did little to conceal her delectable breasts. His suspended desire was instantly rekindled.
 
He kept his attention focused on her reflection as he brushed her hair from one shoulder and bent to kiss her. He turned the kiss into a nibble of the lobe of her ear, and then the pulse point in her throat. He gently stroked her shoulders and upper arms, brushing the narrow shoulder straps of the chemise off and down as he did so.
 
Buffy gasped when he released the fabric to allow the garment to slither to the floor, leaving her completely bare before him. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her back into his embrace, warm skin to cool skin, continuing to lavish kisses and nibbles to all the exposed flesh he could reach, while still keeping his eyes glued to the vision in the mirror.
 
“This is so weird,” Buffy whispered. She giggled softly. “It’s such a turn-on being sexed up by the invisible man.”
 
The heady aroma of her arousal rose up around Spike as her head fell back against his chest, her skin flushed and her heartbeat and breathing accelerating tantalisingly. Then she reached around to grasp his hips and pull him even tighter into her back.
 
The pressure against his erection increased until it was on the verge of pain, forcing a pleasurable moan from him.
 
Buffy abruptly released him and twisted in his embrace, raising her arms to twine around his neck. Spike bent his head to kiss her, but she tilted her head away, saying, “Now’s good. Can it be now?”
 
For a second, Spike couldn’t grasp the meaning of Buffy’s apparently random question. Then with a rush of warmth to his chest, he realised. “The claim?” he said, his voice shaky with emotion. Then the conscience that he wasn’t supposed to have kicked his selfish, possessive demon aside and he heard himself asking, “Are you absolutely sure you want to, love?”
 
She cupped his face in her hands, gazed directly into his eyes and said earnestly, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
 
 
~*~*~*~
 
 
Buffy suddenly found herself swooping through the air until all her breath whooshed out of her when she landed on her back among the pile of soft pillows on the bed.
 
She licked her lips and held her breath in anticipation when with eyes flashing between blue and amber, naked Spike prowled panther-like up the bed towards her. He paused astride her hips with his fists planted in the mattress either side of her shoulders.
 
And did she mention that he was still naked? And phwoah! Very aroused.
 
“You remember what you have to do?” he asked.
 
When she reached up and ran her fingernail down the side of his neck, he shuddered, closed his eyes, and turned his head to give her a better angle. To her surprise, the pink line which followed her nail faded in less than a second. “You bite me, drink some of my blood and say ‘mine’. I say ‘yours’. Then I bite you, swallow some of your blood and…
 
“Yeah, you got it.”
 
Mystified, Buffy said, “It’s really kinda… simple for something so important, don’t you think? It feels like it should be some big elaborate ceremony.” She repeated the scratch, across the spot where she intended to mark him. Again, the faint line puzzled her by disappearing instantly.
 
She quickly forgot that when Spike slipped his knees between her legs and lowered himself onto her, supporting his upper body on his elbows. She instinctively spread her legs to cradle his hips and her hands went to his shoulders.
 
“It doesn’t need to be fancy,” he said quietly, stroking her hair back from her face and neck. “That’s for humans who need to make their marriage ceremony lavish because they want to make it the happiest day of their lives. They don’t get it. The claim is simple, because that’s all we need. Because for us, every day after that, when we’re sharing it with the person we love, is the happiest day of our lives. Can’t get any better than that.”
 
“Oh,” Buffy breathed, a tear leaking from her eye. “That’s beautiful.” This violent, romantic, loyal vampire of hers never stopped surprising her. And this is what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life. She couldn’t wait!
 
“Ready, Buffy?”
 
She found herself so choked up that she couldn’t speak. She simply nodded and then took a deep, steadying breath.
 
Spike adjusted his position slightly and slowly pushed into her. He began rocking slightly, simply tensing and relaxing his hips. Buffy was already so sensitised that she found herself tipping her hips up in response, already more than half way to an orgasm.
 
Spike tilted his head to one side and presented her with the unmarked side of his neck. “Ladies first,” he said in a trembling voice.
 
“Oh! Okay.” She nervously licked her lips and teeth. She raised her head and delicately placed her open mouth at her chosen spot. Closing her eyes, she bit down as hard as she could, feeling her teeth penetrate his flesh. Withdrawing her teeth, she tried to suck some of Spike’s blood, but there was nothing there. She drew back slightly and peered at the place where there should be an open bite, only to see utterly unblemished skin.
 
Buffy frowned for a second, then rolled her eyes as she realised what the problem was. She thwacked Spike’s shoulder and teasingly scolded him, “Idiot vampire. It’s not going to work while you’re wearing that pesky gem!”
 
Spike stilled and gave an embarrassed cough. “Bugger! Right. Sorry, love.” He leaned to one side, slid the ring from his finger and placed it on the night table then with a shimmy, settled back into position and with a wry grin, resumed his delicious rocking movement. “Uh… Shall we try that again?”
 
Buffy went through the same actions again, this time hearing a moan of pleasure from above her as her mouth filled with rich, coppery fluid. Screwing her nose up a little at the taste, she gulped it down and shuddered slightly before declaring, “Mine! You’re mine!”
 
Spike’s hips jerked forward as he gasped, “Yours! God, Buffy. Everything I am is yours!”
 
Quickly, Buffy closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. She tensed in anticipation of a similar agonising pain as she’d felt when the Master had bitten her three years before.
 
Spike didn’t bite immediately, however. His thrusting increased in speed and strength for a couple of minutes, until the first tantalising tremors pulsed through her. Then at last she heard the tell-tale crunch of shifting bone and cartilage.
 
“Love you, Buffy,” Spike lisped. Then as he added a little twist to his hips, he sank his fangs into her throat. Instead of pain, she felt unbelievable bliss which sent her flying over the edge into paradise.
 
As if from a million miles away, she heard, “Mine! God! You’re mine, slayer!”
 
It took her a second to catch her breath enough to gasp out, “Yours! I’m so yours!”
 
Then Spike began to snarl as he increased his tempo yet again and her head went back and her back arched and she hung on for dear life as she was driven to the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced, and she felt Spike pulsing inside her.
 
Panting, sweating and quivering with aftershocks, Buffy couldn’t move or speak as Spike slowly pulled out of her and slumped to one side. He drew the covers over them, wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her into his side so that her head was pillowed on his shoulder.
 
She allowed herself to relax into the waiting darkness.
 
As the candles guttered and went out one by one, leaving the room lit only by the glowing coals in the hearth, the slayer and her vampire slept.