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Rebellion by Thianna
 
11 - Your Blood
 
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Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.

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Chapter 11 - Your Blood


“So spill already”, Buffy said eagerly as she lay on her front on the bed, hugging a pillow underneath her.

Spike looked at her for a second, looking like a little girl excited about hearing a bedtime story. He knew it seemed utterly inappropriate for the Slayer to be hearing about her destiny from someone like him. He pulled the bottle of Jack he just bought from his coat pocket before slidding the duster off his shoulders and arranging it neatly on a chair. He needed a drink. Not even bothering to pour it in a glass, he unscrewed the top and took a long swig, wondering which god out there felt like having a good sodding laugh at him.

"Stop with the drinking and start with the telling!" Buffy insisted, bending her knees up and down.

"Just a minute!" he said, taking another swig. "You know pet, I’m the last person on this sodding earth that should be telling you this.”

“Well …”

Spike thought about what he was going to say. He could lie, twist the truth around to make it work to his advantage. Wouldn’t that be grand, to be the Big Bad that had a Slayer under his control. But somehow that didn’t really sit well. She would find out the truth eventually. And when she does, she'd be more pissed and most probably would want rightly kick his ass up and down the street.

But what was going to happen between them now? But why was he even thinking about this? He’d finally be rid of her, she’d leave because there would be no way she’d want to stay with him now. Strangely enough, the thought of her leaving wasn’t sitting too well with him. He looked at her lying there and something inside him ached at the thought that if she knew who she was now, that she’d look at him differently. Taking a deep breath … “You’re a Slayer, love. The one in a generation …. Chosen among all others to protect the world from bullocks like me.”

Her brows knit. “ So you’re telling me, I’m a vampire slayer?”

He nodded slowly.

“And that’s why I have like super strength?”

He nodded again.

“Well that’s good right? Now I can go with you and you don’t have to worry about me at all.”

Spike’s eye widened at her comment. “What are you bloody talking about, Slayer? Why would you still want to hang out here?”

“Because, I need you.”

Spike moved to sit down beside her. “Buffy… you’re the Slayer now and as much as it would be a --- high to have a Slayer under my beckon call,” he paused winking at her “ you can’t live in my world. And this just shows that you weren’t meant to live in it.”

“But I don’t have anyone.”

“You don’t need anyone, especially not me. Besides, if you’re the Slayer, your bloody wanker of a Watcher will be looking for you. The Watcher will be your guide.”

“But Spike?!”, she looked up at him pleading.. begging that he not turn her away.

Next thing Spike knew, Buffy was pressed against him, her lips brushing against his own.

“Buffy, don’t start this. You know I can’t stop, love.”

“I don’t want you to. I don’t want to leave you.”

Spike pushed her away at arms length, effectively stopping the kiss she was leaning into. “Buffy, if we do this, if we keep doing this, one of us will end up hurting if not dead.”

“But you didn’t care before, and I know you don’t really care now.” She said, her hand trailing down his chest, moving lower and lower, going down below his waist.

His tried to ignore her touch, pushing back the demon that wanted nothing more than the feel of her. But she wouldn't let up, fingers dancing along his cold skin. Her tongue teasing him of what she could do. He was the Slayer of Slayers. They were meant to fight, not take each other to bed. His demon had tasted her, and her death didn't seem as appealing as her body. His demon pushed through, a low growl rumbling in his throat at feeling her caresses. "No, not now... Have to be ... " he thought. He shook his head, trying his best to reign the demon in and look at this with a level head. He took a few unneeded breathes, forcing his human face to show. “The rules have changed, pet. Every fiber of your being will start to despise me because of who you are. It will eat you up inside.”

Buffy shook her head “No.. nothing’s changed, not between us.”

“What is us anyway? This is a joke Buffy. The kisses and the caresses… just an illusion, make believe, something to pass the time as we heal from our own wounds. You’ll see the truth and all this will be reduced to nothing more than a sweet seduction from a monster, from a demon you were meant to kill.”

“No, it won’t be like that. I know you.”

“You know nothing of me.”, he said raising his voice, as his left hand grabbed her hair, and pulled it back roughly, exposing her neck and the fervent kisses that he had inflicted. “I’ve killed your kind. Two slayers in fact and I can remember ... ever ... delicious ... moment as I took their lives away.” He changed his features to show off his fangs.

“But I’ve seen you fight for me, protect me… refuse to turn me.”

“Just your blood calling to me, pet. My pet whose blood I can take whenever I want.” "That was the reason right? That had always been the reason." he resounded in his head. But somehow Spike wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Buffy or himself.

Buffy looked at what seemed like Death, but she wasn’t afraid because she felt deep down there was nothing to be afraid of. She reached out and caressed his face, her fingers dancing lightly against the bumps on his brow. It didn’t instill fear but comfort. Spike was her salvation – her escape from the abuse Angelus had inflicted on her. She looked into his yellow eyes, wishing silently she could see his pools of blue. His eyes always held so much life which seemed ironic for the undead. Maybe he was right and that this was all a mistake and an illusion, but she couldn’t deny what she felt. He made her feel safe, he made her feel loved and albeit it foolish, she wanted to take away all the pain that she knew he felt. He’d hide most of it behind vices and bravado, but there would be the slightest of looks, the lightest of holds where she knew there was something beneath.

Buffy placed her left hand over his and squeezed it to release his hold on her hair.

“If you’ve killed my kind, then end it like I’ve asked you before. I have no one but you. I’m stronger now, maybe even strong enough to fight Angelus but I doubt I could kill him. I would die, and he would win and there would be no one to mourn for me because he has taken everything away from me. You taught me to rebel. I could have been just your pet, a willing slave and maybe I would have been happy because I wouldn’t know any better because my spirit was already broken. But you pulled me away from that – treated me more than … a happy meal with legs.” Spike couldn’t help but snicker at her recalling how he viewed most humans. “If my blood calls to you, then take it,” she said sadly “for what you’ve done for me I give it to you, freely, like I have in the past.”

Spike looked at her dumbfounded. She sure knows how to make this as sodding difficult as possible! In frustration, he clenched his fist and hit the wall behind her. Buffy got startled, unsure of what Spike was thinking. Then she felt it, the fangs digging into flesh, the blood being pulled from her being. After a few gulps, Spike pulled back, his eyes closed and his chest heaving. He pushed closer to her, his desire for something else apparent as he unknowingly ground his hips against hers. “You know this will end badly, love.”

He gasped as Slayer blood worked through him. "God you're a drug!" He lifted her up, her back against the wall, left hand holding her up by her butt. He let his right hand trail along the length of her side, brushing against a breast then moving lower as he eyed the mound beneath her waist. He could smell her desire and he looked up, a ravenous need etched on his face which was further fueled by the way she had her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. He savored that look on her face for a few more moments before roughly throwing her on the bed. "I've got better things to do with you than drain you."

He eyed her carefully, seeing how she was laying down, her hair fanned out on the covers, her legs teasing him with an invitation. He pulled himself free only to clothe it the next second inside her warmth. Slayer blood invoked the demon to play and he just hoped she could keep up because he had no intention on being gentle tonight.




 
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