Chapter Thirty: Never Leave Me



Spike, Buffy and Giles stood around the centre table in the basement, staring fixedly at the map spread out before them. On it was a layout of the small neighborhood that had not yet fallen into the hands of the vampires, the last bit of Sunnydale that they would forfeit their lives, if necessary, to defend. It was also this insignificant residential area of town that would be under attack at sunset.

On the map were markings of tactics and fortifications, centralizing mainly on the headquarters, where the majority of the fighting human residents of Sunnydale would be localized. Assuming that Damon would try to destroy the last obstacle between him and complete ownership of Sunnydale at its source, the plan was to reinforce the central house as best as possible, while employing fighters outside of the fortifications to be the offensive element to the mainly defensive strategy. The basement was once again a flurry of activity in preparation for these defensive measures.

Buffy’s mind wandered as her gaze settled on the various people, mostly strangers, working diligently at their allotted tasks. She could see Oz and a few others at one table, quietly preparing a stock pile of crosses with the bottom end sharpened into a stake. Xander was at the other end of the room, by the weapons cage, checking and rechecking the variety of cross-bows, flame throwers and tasers, ensuring each was functioning at its full capacity. Willow was again preparing more of those now infamous Sun Bombs. Cordy was helping her.

Buffy would throw the occasional fleeting glance in the brunette’s direction, hoping that Cordy would be looking back at her with the same need to reconcile as was visible in her own green depths. Yet every time her gaze was cast in that general direction, she could never seem to make eye contact with Cordelia. Buffy figured that Cordy must still be mad at her since she was still avoiding her. She sighed and turned her attention elsewhere, wishing she could just resolve things with her best friend.

Other people were on computers and telephones, communicating to those in the immediate area, relaying orders and organizing some people into different safe houses. The plan was to place children, the elderly, the sick and women who wished not to fight in various houses on the edge of the town, ready to escape in the unfortunate event that the war was lost. Many had already been placed and were preparing for nightfall.

Buffy could also hear the stomping footsteps of people upstairs, the rest of the house no doubt in the same frenzied mode of preparation as that seen in the basement. Giles had told her of the measures to keep the house safe. Trenches had been dug early that morning with large wooden spikes jutting out from them with the purpose of impaling any vampire that was foolish enough to approach the house. She had also heard that the only priest left in Sunnydale was currently in the upstairs bathrooms, blessing bathtubs full of water, which were then to be collected into large jugs. Others, led by a few nurses and doctors, were setting up first aid stations to deal with the great number of wounded fighters expected to retreat back into the house. Food, water, bandages and other provisions were also being laid out in the main foyer, to be given to people before they headed out onto the battlefield.

At first Buffy had thought all this to be rather excessive, but she realized that it wasn’t. Even if most of these weapons were never used, or if the pits failed to keep out vampires or if they completely failed and Damon succeeded in taking total control of Sunnydale, at least these preparations made everyone feel like they were contributing, so that when all was said and done, each and every person could say that they had done their best. These tasks which Buffy might have deemed unnecessary were what were keeping people going, what gave them hope.

Snapping out of her daze, her attention returned back to the conversation transpiring between Spike and Giles as the Watcher pointed to the map. “We should expect Damon to come up from the eastern end of the street, heading in our direction from the border as night falls,” the older man rationalized, his finger trailing along the map. “We’ll meet him a few yards up road from the house.”

Spike nodded as he listened to the Watcher’s plan.

Buffy tried to concentrate but was once again distracted by the busy people bustling around her, oblivious to the fact that there was a vampire in their midst. No one had questioned Giles explanation of Spike’s sudden appearance. Many were actually quite welcoming, grateful that “William”, the expert rogue demon hunter, had arrived to help them in what may be the definitive battle to take back their town.

Giles was careful to limit Spike to the basement, unsure of when his invincibility, and associated immunity from sunlight, would dissipate within the next twenty four hours. The last thing any of them wanted to explain was why Spike was suddenly bursting into flames whenever he walked past one of the opened windows upstairs. So basically, Spike was to remain in the basement until the sun was set safely below the horizon.

Buffy returned her gaze in Cordelia’s general direction, only to be disappointed again by the brunette’s persistent cold shoulder. What was it going to take to get Cordy to even acknowledge her presence?

“Buffy, what do you think?” Giles asked, hoping to get the girls opinion.

“Huh? Wh…? Oh, sorry I kind of spaced out,” she embarrassingly confessed.

Spike had noticed the subtle glimpses his girl had been sending the Cheerleader all day long, but he had chosen not to comment on them. There wasn’t much he could say. Cordelia was breaking Buffy’s heart with every passing second as she continued to ignore her supposed best friend. It made Spike want to wring the skinny bird’s neck.

“‘bout the plan, luv. Got any other ideas we could throw into the mix?” Spike asked, supplementing the part of the conversation she had missed.

Buffy returned her attention back to the map, her eyes attentively scanning the schematic presented on the table top in front of her. For the first time Buffy realized that all they really had going for them was a strong defensive with a pretty weak offensive. Everything just seemed too concentrated in one area. They might as well paint a bull’s eye on the house. She knew it was important to protect your home base, but if Buffy had learned one thing from the few history courses she had taken in the past two years it was that wars were always won with one smart, decisive offensive tactic.

‘We just need to figure out what’s gonna work here,’ she reflected as her eyes skimmed over the map, finally landing upon the outlines to a house right across the street from the headquarters. ‘Ah hah!’

Buffy smiled broadly as Giles and Spike waited for her suggestion, never expecting to hear the words she was about to say. “Actually, I think I know how we’re going to win this.”



********

“Sheer brilliance!” Giles enthusiastically exclaimed.

“Now why in the hell didn’t I think of that?” Spike asked, kicking himself for being so blind. It was a wonder that he had ever landed the whole Master of a clan gig when he couldn’t even put together the most obvious battle plan. “Good on you, luv.”

“Thanks,” Buffy replied humbly.

Giles warmly smiled at the blond girl beside him. “Pity that you were never called as a slayer. I have a feeling you would’ve broken the mold.”

Buffy shrugged, not sure how to reply to the Giles’s compliment.

“We set then?” Spike brusquely asked, not liking the Watcher’s comment about how Buffy would’ve been a great slayer. He wasn’t arguing that his Buffy wasn’t one hell of a woman. It was just that if she had been Chosen, she would’ve shared the same fate as all the others, namely that of a premature death; perhaps even by his own hands. And it was that last thought scared him to no end.

Giles quickly nodded, as though snapped out of his bittersweet reminiscing. “Yes, of course. I’ll simply relay the changes to everyone.”

Giles called for everyone’s attention and immediately went about explaining the newly devised plan. The necessary orders to seeing this strategy to fruition were also doled out. Once he had finished speaking, everyone in the basement set off to accomplish their assigned tasks, racing about at a more frenzied pace than they had before Giles’s had laid out his latest instructions.

Anyone who wasn’t doing any last minute prep work had been ordered to enjoy the rest of their day. Even with the revised plan, no one knew for certain if this day would still be their last.

The basement became less crowded as more people headed out to spend the afternoon in the sunlight with their loved ones. Buffy herself spotted Cordy head up the stairs. She followed after the brunette, unbeknownst to either Spike or Giles since they were too consumed in their hushed argument over the vampire’s placement in the battle.

Jogging up the steps, Buffy stopped when she reached the main level, her hazel eyes locked on Cordelia as she talked to Xander by the front entrance. She watched as the brunettes exchanged a few pleasant words before breaking apart. With Xander no where in sight, Buffy built up enough courage to approach Cordelia.

“Cordy,” she tentatively called out, quickening her steps as she followed after her best friend.

Cordelia stopped before she stepped into the kitchen. She didn’t turn around to face her friend, though. She simply stood there, hand lightly placed on the kitchen door. “Buffy,” she curtly answered, her voice tense with restrained emotion.

Buffy sighed disappointedly when Cordy refused to look at her. “Guess that answers the question as to whether or not you still hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Cordelia admitted dejectedly to the wooden door in front of her.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Buffy sadly muttered.

“I’m not,” Cordy firmly repeated, turning her head slightly to glance over her shoulder at Buffy. “I’m mad as hell and I think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, but I don’t hate you. I could never hate you,” she dismally finished, her teary red eyes reverting back to the kitchen door.

“Why can’t you just trust me, huh?” Buffy asked her in frustration. “You know me Cordy, more than anyone else. You know I wouldn’t just blurt out that I’m in love with someone unless I actually meant it. And you must know that I wouldn’t have declared it the way I did unless I knew he loved me back.”

Cordy spun around, gaping at her friend with unconcealed exasperation. “Ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome, Buffy?” Cordelia finally posed the question that no one dared to ask. “Spike kidnapped you, kept you locked away from the rest of the world. Hell, up until a few days ago I thought you were dead,” her voice broke slightly as her grief and disappointment threatened to shatter through her so far composed countenance. “And now I’m supposed to believe he somehow didn’t brainwash you into thinking that you love him?”

Buffy did not allow herself to get upset. “You weren’t there,” she calmly answered. “You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

“It doesn’t—“

Buffy held up her hand as she interrupted Cordelia. “No, it does matter,” she determinedly stated. “I’m not going justify or defend my relationship with Spike. I wasn’t expecting a blessing and I knew I probably wasn’t going to get your acceptance either. All I was asking for was for you to trust me. I only wanted you to give me the benefit of the doubt and to keep an open mind when it came to me and Spike. I guess I was asking too much.”

“Buffy…” Cordelia began, not sure what she wanted to say.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, Cordy, but I want you to know that I still think of you as my best friend,” Buffy confessed sadly. “I just hope you feel the same way too.”

Not wanting to hear her possibly former best friend’s response, the blond ran from the main hallway and headed up the stairs, leaving a stunned Cordy in her wake.

Needing a place to escape in case Cordelia had decided to come after her, Buffy flew into the upstairs bathroom, relieved to find it empty and priest free. Spotting the large shower stall in the corner of the bathroom across from the giant tub, she figured might as well wash up while she hid like a coward. She began to undress and turned on the hot water. Buffy stepped beneath the steaming spray, enjoying the distracting sting against her flesh. It didn’t take long though, for the tears to finally flow, mingling with the water beading on her face.



********


Out of the corner of his eye, Spike watched as Buffy followed Cordelia out of the basement. He decided to act as though he hadn’t noticed her departure. Maybe a little confrontation between the estranged women wouldn’t hurt. Buffy hadn’t brought it up again since last night but Spike knew that this tiff with the ex-cheerleader was taking a toll on her. He could only hope that things were resolved before Damon came a knocking. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by the time sunset rolled around.

The basement was now empty save for him and Giles, who at the moment was arguing with him about where he should be placed in the grand scheme of the battle. Spike was determined to head the moderately sized regiment of fighters that were to be sent out to face Damon and his legions of vampires. The Watcher didn’t think anyone would follow Spike’s lead since most saw him as a virtual stranger. As for the other better informed individuals who knew his true identity, he doubted that they would willingly take orders from a vampire. Giles had suggested that he assist Buffy at the main house. As expected, Spike had refused.

“Look, mate,” Spike growled. “If you’re frettin’ that nobody’s gonna take my lead, just wait ‘til we get out there. They’ll be fallin’ in line and takin’ orders the second they lay eyes on the army that that pillock’s gonna bring with ‘im.”

Giles groaned. “Fine, have it your way. Just don’t get us all killed.”

“Not plannin’ on it,” Spike retorted with all honesty. “Plus, with Buffy’s plan, we’d be right arses to fuck things up tonight,” he added, careful to keep his tone from sounding overconfident. He didn’t want to jinx himself before the sun had even set.

“Yes, Buffy does seem to have a flair for strategy,” the Watcher demurely agreed. “It’s no surprise really, seeing as how she’s such a quick witted young woman.”

Spike stared at Giles suspiciously at his last remark. “If you have somethin’ to say, Watcher, go right ahead.”

“Assuming we defeat Damon, what then?” Giles asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Confusion creased the vampire’s face. “Don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” he hesitantly answered. “What’s with the sudden interest into my future?”

“I don’t give a piss about what happens to you Spike. My concern lies with Buffy,” Giles callously clarified. “What future do you see for yourself and Buffy?”

Spike knew what the Watcher was doing, casting doubts into his relationship with Buffy. The vampire hated to admit it but it was working. “We’ll work somethin’ out,” he snarled through his teeth.

“I do hope so,” Giles said. “I’d hate to see you deprive such an intelligent and talented woman like Buffy from the life she deserves.”

“I’d never do that to her. I love her,” Spike defended, feeling as though Giles was backing him into a corner.

“I’m not denying that. Nor will I deny that she loves you in return,” the Watcher conceded. “However, there will come a day when Buffy will realize that sometimes love is simply not enough.”

Speechless, Spike watched as Giles silently went up a few wooden steps and out the basement door.

Spike had never truly considered his future with Buffy. He’d always assumed they’d be together and that after Damon was out of the picture they could finally settle down and figure things out. Yet Giles had somehow managed to spark a flame of insecurity regarding his role in Buffy’s life. Would he hold her back from the life she had always wanted? Would she grow tired of him? Would she miss her old life? Would she leave him? The last thought almost winded him, even though he didn’t breathe.

Rubbing his face roughly with his hand, Spike scoffed angrily as he paced the basement. The Watcher had done this on purpose, probably taking advantage of his last chance to exact a bit of revenge before he’d have to face the daunting uncertainties of war. It wasn’t enough to distract Spike from doing what he had to do to go up against Damon, but the fear would forever remain cemented in the back of his mind. The fear, that now Buffy had at last admitted her love to him, she might eventually want something he could never give her—a normal life.

Spike stopped pacing, having the desperate urge to suddenly find Buffy. He needed to hear her say she loved him. He needed to know that Giles was wrong and that Buffy would never leave him. Even if he was lying to himself, Spike needed to feel like he and Buffy were forever.

Taking two steps at a time, Spike darted up the stairs. He didn’t care if he burst into flames once he reached the sunny main hallway. To hell with everyone if his imperviousness to sunlight was gone and he unwittingly revealed to the whole lot of demon hunting humans that he was a vampire. He just wanted Buffy.

Spike’s eyes frantically searched the main level. His skin tingled and began to redden from the inlet sunlight streaming in through the large open windows. Honing his senses, the vampire caught whiff of Buffy’s scent, instantly following it up the second set of stairs to the bathroom. The door was locked, but with an assertive twist, the knob gave way and Spike was inside.

Noticing the outline of her shadowed figure against the billow of steam within the shower stall, Spike stripped off every article of clothing. He needed to touch her, to feel her skin against his own, to be inside of her again. He wanted so desperately to forget his worries, to have Buffy show him that their love was eternal. Spike needed to get lost in her.

Pulling the stall door open, his urgency faded away when the steam cleared and Buffy came into sight. She stood there, her body heaving with muffled sobs as she cried into her hands. The skin on her shoulders was reddened from prolonged exposure to the hot water streaming from overhead. Her hair was damp and matted to one side of her face. She looked completely devastated.

Stepping into the stall, Spike slowly approached her, allowing his cool hand to lightly settle on her shoulder, letting her know he was there.

Buffy didn’t jump in surprise or order him to leave her alone. She simply turned around and buried her face in the crook of Spike’s neck.

“I take it things didn’t go well with Miss Prom Queen, yeah?” he softly inquired, wrapping his arms around the lithe body pressed against him.

Buffy shook her head. “No,” she croaked.

Spike kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “‘S alright, luv. You’ll always have me,” he said reassuringly, though hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the uncertainty in his voice. When she looked up at him with a cheerless smile forced upon her face, Spike was able to push away all his lingering insecurities about future and focus on the present. His girl needed tending to.

“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up. Anymore time in here and you’re gonna start lookin’ line a prune,” he teased, turning a compliant Buffy around in his arms.

Reaching for a bottle of citrus scented shampoo, Spike squeezed a generous amount into his palm. He proceeded to gently massage it into her golden locks, careful not to hurt her. He heard her sigh and felt her relax under his care. Turning her slowly around again, Spike directed Buffy directly under the shower’s spray, rinsing the shampoo from her hair.

“Cream rinse,” she ordered, the gloomy smile she had been sporting now replaced with an impish grin.

“Bossy chit,” Spike grumbled though he couldn’t hide his own smile, pleased to see the playfulness returned to her green eyes.

Buffy gave him a quick peck on the lips before spinning back around.

Shaking his head, Spike snatched a bottle of conditioner from off the corner shelf, dispensing a tiny amount of cream directly onto her head. Putting away the bottle with his right hand, Spike used his left to comb his fingers through her hair, spreading the cream rinse throughout her blond strands.

Grabbing the soap along the way, Spike’s hand returned to Buffy’s body, sliding the slippery bar across the flesh of her back. He lathered her shoulders and neck, purposely allowing the suds glide down the front of her chest. Putting the soap back its holder, Spike reached around and ran his slick hands up Buffy’s taut stomach. She gasped when he cupped her breasts and hissed when his thumbs flicked across her hardened nipples.

“Spike,” she huskily whispered, arching her back into his chest.

He groaned as her movements caused her ass to press against the erection that had presented itself the moment he had stepped into the shower. That was all it took to get him hard, just simply being around Buffy.

Lowering his mouth to her neck, Spike kissed the wounds there that only he could manipulate. His fingers pinched and rubbed her nipples as he licked and sucked on his bite marks. His hips began to move involuntarily, grinding his cock against the crack of her ass.

“Ughhhh…ahhhh…mmmmm…Spike…” Buffy incoherently uttered.

One of Spike’s hands abandoned one of her breasts, slipping down to her now soaked pussy. Sliding a finger into her folds, he focused on her clit, circling the nubbin with his fingertip. Buffy’s hips started to shift, urging him on his task at pleasuring her.

“Spread your legs out a bit, pet,” Spike instructed, taking his hand from her sex to push her thighs apart.

Buffy did as she was told, eager to get his fingers back to her pussy. Spike was everywhere, surrounding her. She could feel his cock poking her from behind, grazing her very slick entrance. Impatiently, she bent over slightly, hoping he would enter her soon.

Spike’s digits found their way back to their mark, rubbing and pinching her clitoris. Following her lead, Spike bent slightly with her, never letting his rough hand go of her supple breast and never taking his attentive mouth from her neck. He could feel her panting, knowing she was ready.

Abandoning her breast, Spike took hold of his rock solid cock and positioned it at her entrance, sliding into her tight slick passage until his pelvis was pressed right against her ass. He gritted his teeth at the feel of her heat, her velvety inner walls squeezing him for all he was worth. Slowly, he drew back slightly and started to thrust back in. His lust glazed eyes rolled to the back of his head as her moans and whimpers filled the room.

Buffy shifted her hips slightly, trying to get the finger that was administering to her clitoris to stroke faster. Her prompting not only got Spike to vigorously caress the engorged bit of flesh but it also got him to start pounding into her, which caused the bulbous head of his cock to tap against the spongy bundle of nerves within her in just the right way.

“Spike…Spike…ahhhh…” she babbled, feeling an orgasm imminent.

“Buffy,” he growled against her neck, his hips frantically smacking against her ass, her body shaking with the force of his thrusting.

Placing one hand on the wall in front of her to steady herself, Buffy brought her other hand behind her to grab onto Spike’s damp platinum locks, yanking his mouth to the marks on her neck. “Do it,” she desperately urged.

Vamping out, he sank his fangs into the soft flesh of her neck without as much as a second thought.

“Ahhhh…I’m cuming…Spike!” she screamed, climaxing hard.

The dual sensation of her sweet blood flooding his mouth and her pussy clamping down all around his cock pushed him so close to the edge. Ripping his fangs from her neck, his game face melted away as his mouth opened slightly and his eyes closed tightly shut.

Pumping into her a few more times, his eyes shot open when the orgasm finally hit. “Buffy…fuck…Buffy!” he hollered , his whole body convulsing as he shot his cold dead seed into her womb.

She was still panting as Spike came back down from his high, exhaustedly pressing his face against her shoulder. If the vampire had not had his arms wrapped around her, Buffy truly believed she would’ve collapsed by now.

“We better dry up and step out pet. Don’t know how much longer I can keep the both of us standing,” he mumbled, his words reflecting her thoughts.

Nodding in agreement, she suddenly noticed how the water coming from the showerhead was suddenly very cold. Her teeth chattered as she turned off the water and followed Spike out of the stall, grateful for the warm fluffy towel he wrapped around her. Looking over at the mirror, she first noticed Spike’s lack of reflection, which she sometimes forgot about but then spotted the trail of crimson traveling down her collar bone.

“Shit,” she cursed as she pressed her hand to the healing wound on her neck, remembering Giles strict rules about Spike biting her.

“Guess we got a little carried away, huh?” Spike asked, his voice surprisingly filled with melancholy.

Buffy turned her head at the unanticipated sadness in the vampire’s tone. She would’ve expected a smug comment accompanied by his patented smirk but not the misery she could see in his stormy blue eyes. “Spike, what is it?” she asked tenderly.

The vampire shook his head. “Nothin’ really. Just my worries gettin’ the better of me,” he whispered bleakly.

Buffy picked up a towel, threw it over Spike shoulders, and proceeded to pat his chest dry. He had been good enough to take care of her, make her feel better when she was upset. She could do the same for him.

“Nothing is going to happen to me tonight, Spike,” she reassured him. “Damon can’t hurt me. I can take care of myself now.”

Spike nodded but he didn’t say anything. Buffy thought he was worried that she might die in battle. To be honest, the concern had popped into his head once or twice, but Buffy had stationed herself to coordinate the activities inside the house, which was a relatively safer position to be in than on the street with Spike and the rest of the fighters. So, needless to say, he knew the likelihood of Buffy dying or getting hurt in tonight’s battle was slim to none. Well, that was what he told himself, anyway.

He didn’t want to sound like some pathetic sod and admit that he was scared of losing her to something that he couldn’t kill. That he was afraid of losing her to the normal life that he would never be able to provide.

“I know you can, luv,” he rasped, putting on a fake smile to alleviate any doubts she might have left.

“Good,” she obliviously resplied, smiling brightly as she kissed him lightly on the lips. “Let’s get dressed. We still got some time left before sundown,” she giggled with a saucy wink.

Spike couldn’t help but smirk devilishly at her antics. Maybe he should stick to his earlier attitude and be happy with what he had now. He should only concern himself with the uncertainties of the future when they eventually presented themselves. Buffy was with him now and open about her love for him. It was more than he had ever dreamed of from her.

Casting aside all doubts and fears from his mind, Spike scooped Buffy up in his arms. “Bugger the clothes,” he chuckled. “Just gonna have to take them off again, which is time that could be used shaggin’ each other stupid.”

Buffy squealed, giggling as a bare assed Spike flew out the bathroom, his vampire speed taking them down the empty hallway to their room. The door slammed shut behind them, providing them with the privacy to continue on with the fun they had started in the shower.

Unaware of the naked mad dash that had taken place a few minutes earlier, Xander stepped out of his room. He was supposed to meet Cordy at their spot on the front porch but he was running late. Dashing into the hallway, he stopped when he heard the noises coming from the room next door. He didn’t even have to press his ear to the door to hear the all familiar sounds of Spike’s deep moaning and Buffy’s climactic screaming.

“You’ve got to be joking?” he said to himself, staring at the wooden door in disbelief. All last night he had been kept up by their noisy love making and now, at two-thirty in the afternoon, they were at it again. It just didn’t seem fair.

“That’s it,” Xander declared, starting back down the hallway, determination in his every step. “If things don’t work out with Cordy, I’m getting myself a vampire for a girlfriend. Even if it kills me!”



A/N: MASTER is up for the Reader's Choice award at the FOOL FOR LOVE AWARDS. Help put a smile on my face and vote at http://www.livejournal.com/_fool_for_love_
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