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Lovers and Lethe by slaymesoftly
 
Chapters 7 - 11
 
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Chapter Seven

Spike’s sleep was filled with dreams and images that seemed strange and familiar at the same time. He dreamed about Europe and Angelus, Darla and Dru. Visions of convents in which Angelus raped and tortured nuns for hours before allowing his family to finally kill and eat them had him moaning in his sleep, his soul cringing at the pictures in his head.

Other, more pleasant visions brought him scenes of patrolling with Buffy, their easy banter indicating a gentle camaraderie that seemed to vanish when the visions became erotic dreams of hours of rough, brutal sex in a dark crypt. There was even a flash of a night spent happily holding her while she slept in an eerie reflection of the way they’d spent the night just past.

When Spike finally got up, he found that Anne had gone out to run an errand, so he busied himself working on rearranging the basement again. When his senses told him it was approaching twilight, he quit moving old furniture around and came back up stairs to find his girlfriend waiting for him with a sweet smile and a cup of warm blood.

“Thank you, love,” he said, dropping a quick, chaste kiss on her upturned face. He dismissed the suspicious thoughts that tried to tell him she would not have gotten over her anger so quickly, and gladly accepted her peace offering.

“You’re welcome, honey,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch about the Slayer. I know she can tell you a lot about your past and I know how much you hate not knowing anything about… before. I’ve been very selfish, trying to keep you from talking to her. I want you to get all the information you can from her before she leaves.”

Leaves? Buffy is leaving? What the hell?

Giving her a bemused nod, he carried his mug upstairs and cleaned it out in the sink before stepping into the shower to clean off the dust and dirt from the basement. Unlike many vampires, Spike tried to stay as clean and fresh smelling as was possible for someone who was essentially an animated corpse.
Twenty minutes and a clean pair of jeans and tee shirt later, he was back downstairs and ready to help Anne with the evening meal and clean up.

He found himself cocking an ear toward the door, halfway expecting Buffy to come looking for him to patrol with her now that it was dark, but she didn’t appear. By the time they had found beds for everyone who needed one and closed up for the night, he was beginning to worry. Wondering if she had gone out by herself again, expecting him to meet her at the cemetery.

Memories of her injury last night, and not being sure how much she would have healed yet, fueled his worry and he finally ran upstairs to grab his coat.

“Tell Buffy I said ‘bye and safe trip’ if I don’t see her again,” Anne said cheerfully, cringing inside at the worried frown on his face but keeping her outer demeanor caring and trusting.

“She didn’t say anything about leaving yet,” he muttered, pulling on his duster and staring at the door.

“Well, you know, maybe she got an earlier flight and just didn’t want to bother you about it. I’m sure she’ll call once she gets back to let you know how to reach her. In case your memory comes back, or something.”

“She wouldn’t leave without telling me,” he growled.

He was sure the woman he’d held while she cried over him, the one he’d continued to hold while she slept trustingly in his arms, would not have given up so easily. Buffy Summers did not seem like the kind to sneak off with her tail between her legs just because she was hurt.

Then he remembered how she’d bared her emotions to him the previous night. How she had backed off from her clearly successful seduction to offer him the chance to make a choice. And he remembered what his choice had been. Suddenly getting to her hotel and making sure she was still there took precedence over anything else and without so much as a “good night” to Anne, he was out the door and sprinting the blocks to Buffy’s hotel.

He stretched out his senses and gasped with relief when he felt her presence as he approached her door. He knocked quickly and was already turning the handle when her quiet, “Come in, Spike,” came to his ears.

His joy at knowing she hadn’t left LA quickly turned back to concern when he saw the packed bags on the bed and watched Buffy continue to stuff make-up in an outside pocket.

“What are you doing?” His voice came out much angrier than he intended, and he watched her flinch before she turned around to face him.

“What I should have done as soon as I saw you with Anne. As soon as I saw your mark on her.”

Her eyes were red-rimmed from the crying that had obviously occupied her for hours, although they were now dry and lifeless as she met his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Spike. You should have told me. I would have backed off.” She turned back to her packing, missing his totally bewildered expression and gaping mouth.

“God knows I’ve hurt you enough through the years. I would never willingly do something like that to you again. You really should have told me.”

Finally finding his voice, the vampire croaked, “Told you what? Are you sure it was Drusilla who was my batty ex-girlfriend? Cause right now, Slayer, you’ve got to be runnin’ her a close second.”

“Stop pretending!” Suddenly the animation was back in her eyes and on her face. She radiated pain and anger as she rounded on him. “I know all about it. Anne told me.”

“Anne told you what?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice, already guessing what he was going to hear.

“That you’re mated. That you claimed her while you were… making love.” Her voice hitched, then evened out as her anger enabled her to smother the despair that permeated her soul. “She told me about it and then I read about what it means.”

She picked up the small book and threw it at him, hitting him in the forehead. “I don’t know why you never bit me - all the times we… I mean it’s not like you didn’t have a lot of opportunities. I guess you just didn’t want me enough to—“

“Bloody, buggering fuck!” Spike’s scream as he threw the book against the wall so hard it dented the drywall, stopped her in mid sentence.

“Are they giving this soddin’ book away on every street corner in this fucking city? Where the hell did you get this?”

“Anne gave it to me,” Buffy said dully, “I guess it’s one book Giles didn’t have in his collection, or I would have known as soon as I saw your mark on her…”

“Your watcher didn’t have it because it’s pure unadulterated crap! It’s written by the same ignorant gits that had her and her friends thinking I was planning to sire the whole lot of them rather than just eat them.”

“Wh—what? It’s wrong?” Hope bloomed in her face, although her worried frown stayed. “You didn’t claim her? You’re not bonded in some weird vampire marriage?”

“No, Buffy,” he said, his voice quiet and suddenly gentle as he moved closer to her. “I never claimed her. Wouldn’t do that. I don’t love her. Right now, I don’t think I even like her very much,” he added with a growl.

That got a small smile from Buffy, and he watched the hope blossom in her eyes again before she said tremulously, “But you did bite her. I saw your marks.”

“I didn’t mark her, love. Those are just scars from the bite that haven’t faded yet. I bit her because I was so weak and she needed me to throw out some gang banger wankers that were giving her a hard time, trying to take over the shelter and use it as a front for drug running. She offered out of fear, and I took it because I was afraid for her. I told her to cut her wrist for me, but she’s afraid of sharp things and she said she’d rather I did it the ‘right’ way.”

“Stupid vampire groupie,” Buffy muttered.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I should’ve picked up on that, I guess, but with not knowing her history…”

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“And you didn’t…”


“Jesus Christ, Buffy! If half of what you told me about us is true, don’t you think I would have marked you as mine if I could?” He glared at her in frustration, then shook his head and admitted, “’Course if I had, we probably wouldn’t be standing here, ‘cause you undoubtedly would have staked me on the spot.”

She nodded in sheepish agreement, then went back to her main focus.

“Why did she tell me you bit her while you were mak-having sex?”

“I don’t know. Why did she tell you any of this? I told her the other night that book was trash.”

Buffy kept staring at him, her eyes demanding the truth and he finally turned away from those accusing orbs to mutter, “I made it good for her.”

“What? What did you say?”

He turned back to her and, somewhat shamefaced, explained, “We – vampires – have different kinds of bites. It’s possible to make a bite… pleasurable, if we take the time and effort. Not something I suspect most vamps bother with, but if you want to take the victim’s mind off the pain—“

Buffy held her hand up for him to stop. “I get the picture. It’s like when Dracula bit me, I didn’t—“

The snarl that ripped from Spikes throat startled them both, with the slayer recovering faster. While Spike looked embarrassed and said apologetically, “I don’t know where that came from.” Buffy answered softly, “I do.” She didn’t try to hide the happiness in her eyes at his visceral reaction to the old vampire having bitten her in that way.

The vampire sighed and began pacing the floor, his duster flaring out behind him. “Buffy, I admit that my body and even my demon - they seem to remember you. Us. And I…” He paused and looked back at her over his shoulder, “I’d like to explore that. To see where it goes. Whether I get my memories back or not, I think I could easily fall in love with you all over again.”

The joy on her face brought an answering smile to his that he couldn’t control.

Making Buffy happy appears to be one of those things that parts of me respond to.

Before she could say anything, he held up a hand and said quickly, “But the part of me that remembers nothing before last May, the man who doesn’t remember you, he doesn’t want to hurt the woman who has made his life peaceful and happy for the past six months.

“I know she’s done a terrible thing. And I’m bloody brassed off about it. But she’s done it because she loves me. Something I suspect I haven’t seen a lot of in my one hundred and however many years on this planet.”

He saw Buffy flinch at the reminder of how little affection she’d given him during the years they’d been together and he sighed again. She nodded again to let him know she understood him, but had to turn away and squeeze her eyes shut trying to shake the memories his words created.

“That wasn’t meant to hurt you, love. I’m just trying to explain why I’m having such a hard time with this whole… situation. Not used to having women fight over me, yeah?”

“No,” she sighed and walked closer to him, “I suppose not. And I really don’t want to. Fight, that is. I can’t fight her physically – she’s human; and I’m not sure I know how to fight any other way. I know I never gave you what she has… I never made you happy, and we never had time for peacefulness. It was always one apocalypse after another.”

She reached up and ran her hand down his face, cupping his cheek and forcing him to see the truth in her eyes.

“I can’t promise you a peaceful life. It just doesn’t come with the whole Slayer package. But I can promise you I would do my best to make you happy. Whatever it takes for as long as I’m given to do it.”

She held his gaze, leaving her warm hand resting against the side of his face and willing him to see the truth in her eyes. They remained frozen, only inches apart until, with a shudder, Spike closed the distance between them and pulled her in against his body.

“Was getting a little bored with all that peacefulness anyway,” he murmured as he captured her lips in a gentle kiss. Buffy slid her arms around his neck and melted against him, soaking up the sheer joy of feeling that cool, soft, talented mouth on hers. The kiss remained chaste and warm for several seconds, then Spike’s tongue gently stroked her lower lip and she immediately responded by opening her mouth and sending her tongue out to meet it.

She stood still as the vampire explored her open mouth, running his tongue over her gums and teeth, re-acquainting himself with what felt so familiar and yet so strange to him. Exploration soon turned to passion as the kiss deepened and Buffy was soon moaning in frustrated desire as the familiar body pressing against hers stirred the usual craving for more contact. She could feel his own hard response pressing into her stomach and she thrilled at the proof that his body still recognized her touch. She put everything she was feeling into the kiss, her lips and tongue continuing to caress his until she almost lost consciousness. If Spike hadn’t broken the kiss when he sensed her dizziness, she would have passed out on the spot.

“Bloody hell, Buffy,” he raised his head to gasp. “What you do to me… Want you so bad…”

“I’m right here,” she whispered, wanting nothing more than to throw him onto the nearby bed, but forcing herself to wait for him to make the next move. Her whole body was trembling with the need to feel his skin next to hers, to feel his hard length inside her again. It took every ounce of her strength to force herself to stand still and let him take the next step.

If there’s going to be a next step. Oh god, please let there be a next step! Let me have this – at least once. Let me feel him again.

When he lowered his head to attack her mouth again, she collapsed against him in relief, allowing his arms to take the weight her knees would no longer support. As soon as he felt her melt into him, Spike growled softly and swung her body into his arms. Without breaking the kiss, he strode to the bed and used his foot to kick the luggage off to one side. He followed Buffy down onto the bed, shoving the bags the rest of the way off with one hand while he buried the other in her long hair.

Freed of her fear that he was going to withdraw again, Buffy allowed herself to do all the things she’d been resisting since she first saw him. Her hands ran over his body frantically, as though trying to touch and remember every bulge of muscle, every sharp edge of bone at the same time. Spike’s hiss when she ran her fingers up under his tee shirt to skate over the cool skin on his back encouraged her further and she ripped her mouth away to plant open-mouthed kisses all over his face and down his neck.

The heat coming off the woman under him was making Spike so hard he thought he was going to injure himself on the zipper of his jeans. The combination of soft, feminine curves and incredible strength was exciting him a way Anne’s slender gentleness never could. He pushed her shirt up, running his hand over the silky skin covering her ribs until he was stroking his thumbs across the curve of her breasts. When she mewed and arched up into his hand, he pushed the shirt completely over her head and used his teeth to rip the scrap of lace covering her breasts into two easily removed pieces.

He buried his face between her breasts briefly, inhaling her scent and accepting the familiarity of it without question. Buffy was tugging on his own tee shirt, trying to pull it over his head as she gasped, “Less smelling, more stripping.”

With a willing grin, he sat up and pulled his shirt off, then reached down to untie his boots. He was shocked when Buffy slid off the bed and said softly, “Let me.” She sat on the floor and quickly untied and removed his boots and socks. When they were gone, she knelt between his legs and fastened her mouth back on his while her hands worked to unfasten his jeans and begin pushing them down until his aching cock could spring free into her warm hands.

Never breaking contact with his mouth, she swallowed the groans coming from the vampire as she began the firm stroking she knew he liked best. His own hands were busy unzipping her pants and trying to shove them over her hips without breaking any of the contact between them. Finally, with unspoken agreement, they broke apart and each stood to push pants to the floor and off.

Spike took a second to look at the vision before him, taking in the small but perfect breasts, the tiny waist and womanly curve of her hips before dropping his eyes to the neatly trimmed curls that already glistened with moisture. He dropped to his knees and pressed his face against the apex of her legs, once again inhaling the scent that went right to his cock and made it even harder.

Buffy’s whimper when she felt his cool tongue searching through her folds only spurred him on and he grabbed the muscular globes of her ass to hold her up while he gently forced her legs apart so the he could reach the source of the nectar he was lapping up. Again, they found themselves in an awkward, uncomfortable position that neither was willing to change for fear of losing the contact. When Buffy grabbed the curls on his head to hold herself upright, Spike finally removed his mouth and pushed himself up and back onto the bed, pulling the slayer with him.

The feel of her hot, soft skin against his own cool smoothness sent them both into a frantic attempt to be touching from head to toe. The vampire’s arms were puling her into his body with a grip that would have made most women cry out in pain. The Slayer’s response, however, was to fasten her mouth onto the soft skin of his throat and begin sucking there while she clenched his cock between her powerful thighs and pushed her hips into his.

Unable to wait any longer, Buffy tore her mouth away from the mark she’d made on his neck and pushed her upper body away so as to hover over him.

“I want you inside me, Spike. I need to feel you in me now.”

Never taking her eyes off his lust filled blue ones, she slowly lowered herself onto him, smiling as the heat of her passage caused his eyes to roll back in his head. Her own eyes closed as she lost herself in once again being filled by the man she loved. She settled down onto his hips, pushing his cock in as far as it could go. Tears poured down her face as she allowed herself to feel him and know that this time it was real and not one of the thousands of dreams that had haunted her for the past year and a half.

Spike couldn’t deny the way his body rejoiced when it felt her surround him. It was at once the most amazing sensation he’d ever felt, and at the same time, incredibly familiar. Then Buffy began a rhythmic squeezing that soon had him gasping unnecessarily and thrusting up into her depths with every squeeze.

“Bloody hell, Slayer. I can’t keep this up. You’ve got to stop doing that, love or I’m going to—“ He interrupted himself to flip them over, continuing his thrusts from above as he murmured in her ear.

“I’m sorry, pet. Know you wanted to drive, but I want to make this special for you and I wasn’t going to last with you bouncing on me like that. Want to make this good for you, Buffy.”

As he whispered to her his desire to make her feel good, he was twisting his hips and hitting the little spongy mass of nerves that only he could find, sending her into a head thrashing, moaning and crying frenzy as she shook through an orgasm that came too soon. She was still shuddering from the effects of her first climax when he began thrusting harder, his muscular buttocks clenching as he drove into her. The slayer met him thrust for thrust, her pelvis clashing against his hard enough to bruise both of them.

Buffy’s arms and legs were wrapped around his body in a grip that he knew he couldn’t have broken if he wanted to. She was murmuring his name over and over as he pounded against her, her voice rising as she felt the tension in her body building again. The vampire’s guttural growls grew louder and closer together as he felt his own release approaching.

When Buffy sank her teeth into his shoulder with a muffled scream, his demon burst forward and suddenly the woman quivering under him was no longer a beautiful stranger.

“Buffy! Oh god, Buffy. Not a dream. Real. Buffy. My Buffy. My love. Mine.”

The man struggled to hold the demon back, but there was no stopping it. Needle sharp fangs slid into the soft skin on her throat and he shook all over with the force of his orgasm and the euphoria created by her blood flowing into his mouth.

The instant his fangs pierced her skin and he drew the first sip of blood, Buffy spiraled into another body shaking orgasm; waves of pleasure sweeping over her and without prompting she screamed, “Yours! Oh god, Spike. I’m yours.”

The vampire collapsed on top of her, both of them gasping for air and shuddering with the after affects of the experience. When he realized Buffy was having to breathe while his full weight lay on her chest, he reluctantly rolled off, whimpering at the loss of her warmth around him. He turned his head far enough to lick the wounds closed, then let it flop back onto the pillow.

He continued to take unnecessary breaths, staring at the ceiling while his demon receded and the memory of who Buffy was and what she meant to him faded somewhat. He grimaced as he realized what his demon had done, even as he accepted that in this case his body and the spirit that inhabited it knew better than he did the importance of this woman in his life.

“Not exactly complaining here,” she gasped, “but what the hell was that?”

Chapter Eight

Buffy remained flat on her back, still trying to catch her breath and control the trembling in her legs. Beside her, she heard the vampire chuckle ruefully.

“Now THAT, Slayer, was a claim,” he told her. He turned his head to look at her puzzled face. “Seems like my demon feels a little possessive about you.”

“You claimed me?”

“Didn’t mean to,” he said hastily, misunderstanding her question. “Just lost control when you bit me.”

“I bit you?” Her voice went up a little higher. “I bit YOU?”

In response he silently rolled toward her so she could see the deep teeth marks in his shoulder. Buffy’s eyes grew wide and she opened and closed her mouth several times before she could say, “Uh, sorry?” Her mind went back to the marks she used to leave on his smooth skin when their lovemaking was closer to fighting, and she bit her lip in distress.

“Don’t be sorry, love. That’s what brought out the demon and gave me back a few minutes of knowin’ who I am.”

Buffy looked at his now human face and said carefully, “You said a few minutes. Does that mean you’ve forgotten me again already?”

“Trust me, Buffy,” he laughed gently and pulled her closer to his body, planting a kiss on the top of her head, “I won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.”

“But you don’t love me,” she said softly. “You’re sorry you claimed me.”

“Wasn’t fair, was it?” He avoided the implied question. “Didn’t give you a chance to say “no. Demon just took advantage of the situation and—“

“I wouldn’t have said ‘no’,” she interrupted quietly, as she snuggled closer and threw one leg over his. “But if you’re sorry you did it, then I guess we need to try to find a way to fix it.”

“Is that what you want to do?” He kept his voice carefully neutral. “Do you want to make it go away?”

“Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying that… bloody hell, I don’t know what I’m saying. Demon clearly wants you forever. And god knows my body thinks it’s died and gone to a heaven I know I’ll never see. But without my memories, I don’t understand why they feel like that. And I don’t know why you would want to be bonded to a man who can’t remember why or even if he loves you.”

Buffy raised her head from his chest and said softly, “Because I remember why I love HIM. I remember how I grieved when he was gone. And I remember how much he loved me. You’re still him. Whether you remember me or not, my heart belongs to you. It always will.”

Spike looked back at her, his expression a mixture of awe and apprehension. Even without his memories, he knew that her words were something he’d waited for years to hear and he growled softly, frustrated that he wasn’t able to fully appreciate their import to him. He took a deep breath and cringed inwardly at what he was about to do.

“Okaaaay. Growling, frowning? So not the reaction I was looking for.” Buffy’s teasing words belied the hurt look on her face and Spike pulled her up his body so that they were face to face.

“I’m sorry, love. I know that if I remembered us at all, those words would have made me too bloody happy to hold still. I know that. I understand it. And I know my demon is gonna chew me a new arse for what I’m about to say, but…”

“But?” He felt her stiffen in his arms and without realizing what he was doing he tightened his grip, his body responding before his brain did. He nuzzled her neck, licking his marks until she relaxed and curled into him sighing.

“I told you before, I don’t doubt I could learn to love you again. Even more sure of it now than I was before.” He ran a cool hand down her back and stroked her flank, feeling her shiver at his touch. “But if I’m going to put a claim on you. If I’m going to tie you down to me like that…” He stopped her protest with a soft kiss and continued as though she hadn’t tried to speak, “if I’m going to do that, I want to do it with all of me. Don’t want the demon making those kinds of decisions for me, love. No matter how right the decision might be.”

He looked into her glistening eyes anxiously and asked, “Do you understand what I’m saying, pet? Not saying I don’t want you. I do. I do want you. But I don’t want to bind you to me like that unless I know it’s right - for all of me. Need to either remember loving you, or to be in love with you again. Any thing else isn’t fair. To either one of us.”

If he’d had breath to hold, the vampire would have been holding it then while he waited for her reaction. As little time as he’d spent in her company so far, he knew she had a lot of pride, and he suspected she’d already been more open and honest about her emotions than she was used to. He held her gaze, willing her to see the truth in his words. When she finally nodded slowly and said, “It’s okay, Spike. I don’t want you to feel trapped with me,” he let out a relieved breath.

“So, what do you want to do about it?” Buffy slid her body over his until she was lying fully on top of him and nibbling on his chest as she waited for his answer. She ran her tongue around one nipple, then kissed her way across his chest to the other one and took it carefully in her teeth, tugging gently. She could feel his cock as it grew against her hip and pushed up into her stomach, causing her to leave his chest and begin to kiss her way down his body.

“I thought we were having a conversation here, pet,” he groaned as her warm, wet mouth worked its way down his chest and past his navel. When he could feel her warm breath on the head of his throbbing cock, he gasped and arched up toward her waiting lips.

“I’m listening,” she said cheerily, kissing the swollen head and poking her tongue into the slit on top. She moved her tongue back and forth lightly, causing the vampire to moan and hiss in pleasure.

“Talk to me, Spike. Tell me what you want to do about claiming me…” Buffy’s words were muffled as she slipped her mouth over him and opened her throat to allow his full length to slide in. As she began to swallow around him, he once again allowed his demon out and immediately she could tell he knew her again.

“Bloody hell, Buffy. You know what that does to me. Don’t stop, love. Feels so good. Like that, love. Missed you so much. Love you, Buffy. You make me… gonna come, love. Love you. Buffy!”

His shout of release coincided with the cool feeling of his spendings hitting the back of her throat and she continued to swallow until she had milked every drop out of his now flaccid cock.

As before, when his demon receded, so did his memory of having experienced her mouth before and he lay trembling as he tried to recover his voice and his poise.

“Buggering fuck, Slayer! I hope I don’t regret asking this, but where the hell did you learn to do that?”

“You taught me,” she said softly. “You taught me how to make you come with my hands and my mouth and my—“

“Dammed if I didn’t do a fine job of it,” he gasped. A familiar-looking smirk crossed his face as he ventured, “Maybe I should open a school. It would be a public service, sending slayers out into the world able to--”

One look at the Slayer’s narrowed eyes and he backpedaled quickly. He didn’t need his memories to recognize that look.

“Or maybe not,” he said quickly. “Nope, definitely not. Only one slayer’s mouth getting near these body parts. Come on, love, don’t you know a joke when you hear one?” he continued, getting slightly worried about the sudden lack of affection in her gaze.

“Is that why you want to get rid of the claim so fast?” she asked, coldly. “So you’d be free to—“

Acting purely on instinct, the vampire pulled her up his body until he could capture her lips in another bone-melting kiss. He didn’t relax until he felt her soften in his arms and begin kissing him back, then he let out the mental breath he’d been holding. He left her mouth and began working his way down her body, leaving wet open-mouth kisses and murmuring against her skin, “Don’t want to be free. Not if it means losing this. Never want to be anywhere else.”

He worked his way down past her breasts, pausing to suckle briefly on each nipple. With every swipe of his tongue, tactile memories seeped into his brain until, by the time he got to the source of the scent that was tormenting him, his brain had completely accepted the familiarity of her body and he buried his face between her legs in a joyful surrender to sensation.

Buffy’s whole body was thrumming with anticipation and with the first swipe of his cool tongue up her cleft, Spike sent her hips lifting off the bed. He grinned against her mound and placed his hand on her abdomen, holding her in place while he allowed his body and his demon free reign. While the slayer mewed and whimpered, he used his muscular tongue to tease and torment her; thrusting it in and out of her clenching vagina, curling it up and licking her interior walls.

When she was keening his name over and over and clutching the curls on his head, he took pity on her and moved up to suck her clit into his mouth. In spite of the care he was taking to keep his fangs away from her flesh, she managed to nick herself on one tooth when she moved in response to her sudden orgasm, and his mouth was once again bathed in her blood.

Before she had stopped trembling, he was upon her, thrusting his way inside her tightened channel and triggering another wave of shivering ecstasy at the same time as he emptied himself into her depths, roaring her name as he did so.

This time, he remained in vamp face, allowing his demon to continue nuzzling at the slayer’s throat and lick the already closing marks from the claiming bite. As long as he let the demon control his actions, he found that he remembered everything – not just Buffy, but Dawn, Sunnydale, Dru, Angel. The memories came at him so fast he became dizzy and he clung to Buffy as though she was a life preserver.

She kept her arms and legs wrapped around him tightly, hoping that by holding him close she could keep the memory of what they were to each other from slipping away with the demon. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes as he whispered “I love you, Buffy,” into her ear. When he tried to roll off and allow her more breathing room, she whimpered and clutched him tighter, squeezing with her vaginal muscles as well as her arms and legs in an attempt to keep him inside and part of her. Exhausted both emotionally and physically, slayer and vampire fell into a restful sleep, still intimately joined together and the vampire still wearing the demon’s face.

When Buffy gradually awakened, she found that he had rolled them over as one so that she lay on top of him where she could breathe more easily. She opened her eyes slowly and raised them to meet the tender blue gaze now gracing his beautiful human face.

“Spike?” she asked tremulously, her own eyes anxiously searching his for some sign that he had not reverted to the souled vampire who didn’t remember loving her.

“It’s me, sweetheart. I think you shagged the memory right back into me.”

“Really?” she ignored his crude description of what had happened. “So you’re all done with the non-Buffy-loving Spike?”

“I think so,” he said cautiously. “Are you ready to give it a try?”

“No,” she said with a small pout, “but I guess we have to sooner or later.” Dropping a kiss on his shoulder where she’d bitten him the first time, she slowly rolled off onto his waiting arm, whimpering in loss when his cock finally slid out of her. He turned immediately and wrapped his other arm around her lightly so they were lying face to face, their legs still tangled together. With their faces only inches apart, they looked into each other’s eyes, once again eerily mirroring the way they’d spent their last nights together in Sunnydale.

This time, the devotion and confidence that shone out of the vampire’s bright blue orbs was reflected back to him from the slayer’s own green flecked gaze. Although the words were almost superfluous by this time, Buffy held his gaze as she said clearly, “I love you.”

He swallowed hard and nodded, never looking away as he whispered, “I know you do, love. I believe you. And I love you too. Always have. Always will.”

They basked in their first true post-coital afterglow; the first not ruined by Buffy’s refusal to allow herself that pleasure, or by an impending apocalypse. Eventually, so much time without talking or movement began to wear on both hyperactive beings and with matching rueful smiles they exchanged a last kiss before sitting up and stretching.

As Buffy reached for her clothes, she looked back over her shoulder at the still stretching vampire and said cheerfully, “When all this happiness wears off, I’m going to kick your ass for never telling me you were alive. You do realize that don’t you?”

“I’m countin’ on it, pet,” he said with a grin and a swat on her bare bum as she stood up.

Her only response was a glare that somehow didn’t carry any menace in it at all, and he laughed as he picked up his jeans, pulling them on swiftly and reaching for his shirt. When they were both dressed again, Buffy carefully looked away from him as she tried to be casual.

“So,” she said calmly, “What are you going to tell Anne?”

“The truth, I guess,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. “She deserves to hear it. And, from me,” he added firmly, wondering if the slayer was going to insist on some sort of payback for Anne’s attempt to separate them. “I think she’ll understand once she realizes I have my memory back. She knows how badly I wanted to remember things. And that it was a possibility that I would sooner or later.”

Buffy stared at him, her desire to march back into the shelter with Spike attached to her like a leech warring with her better nature which reminded her of how she’d felt watching him with Anne when neither of them were aware of her feelings. As badly as the vengeful slayer in her wanted to rub the other woman’s face in it, the sated and happy lover would not allow her to knowingly cause someone else that kind of pain and she nodded her understanding.

“But, you’ll tell her, right?” she asked anxiously. “Right away? You’ll tell her you remembered that you love me. That you can’t stay with her?”

The worry and uncertainly on Buffy’s face spoke to Spike’s heart in a way demands and ultimatums could not have and he swiftly crossed the room to hold her tightly.

“I’m going to tell her straight away, love. I promise you. Just don’t want to hurt her any more than I have to, and her seeing you with me…”

“I know,” she said, her words muffled by his shirt where she’d buried her face to hide her fear. “She’d feel like I did when I saw you with her.” She raised her eyes to stare into his. “I don’t think I want to do that to anybody else,” she said softly, leaning into the apologetic nuzzle he gave her face. “Even if she was trying to steal my vampire,” she finished in a mutter as she looked away again.

“She was trying to keep what she thinks is hers, pet,” he said soothingly, smiling in spite of himself at her possessiveness. “What would you have done in her place?”

“Thrown her through the window,” she growled, only half-kidding. “It’s a slayer thing,” she sighed when he raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s the only way I know how to deal with pain. On the plus side,” she said more cheerfully, “Did you know there are almost no vampires left in Rome? If you’d stayed dead, I’ll bet I would have cleaned out Europe within a couple of years.”

His rich laugh shook them both and he squeezed her tightly saying, ”Bloody hell, I love you, Buffy Summers. Love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “Do you believe me now?”

“I do, sweetheart. I do and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am that I didn’t come looking for you as soon as I could. Think of the vampire un-lives I could have saved,” he finished, chuckling when she swatted at his chest.

“Very funny, fang face. Speaking of vampires, I guess it’s a little late to do a patrol now…”

As she spoke, her stomach growled and he began to lead her toward the door.

“It is, but we have time to get you something to eat before I have to worry about the sun. Let’s go get you fed, pet.”


Chapter Nine

A meal of pancakes and sausage at an all night diner later, and Spike had talked Buffy into letting him go back to the shelter so that he could talk to Anne and figure out how to move out without leaving her in the lurch for help. He walked her back to the hotel, kissing her at the door in spite of her unsubtle hints that he should come back to the room with her.

“Ah, Slayer. You know if I go back up there with you, I’ll never make it out before dawn. You go get some more sleep, love, and unpack those bags. I’ll be back as soon as the sun goes down.”

Buffy tried her best pout on him, but when it didn’t work, she shrugged and kissed him quickly.

“Okay,” she grumbled. “But you’d better be back here before dinner time or I’m going to come looking for you.”

Another quick kiss and he was gone in a swirl of black leather. As she went into the hotel and headed for the elevators, Buffy tried to smother the jealousy that made her want to follow him back to the home he shared with Anne. She told herself she had no reason not to trust him now that her Spike was back, and reluctantly went to her room as he’d asked.

Instead of sleeping, though, she called Dawn to share the happy news. After suitable squealing and crying, they finished the conversation with Buffy promising to call again as soon as she had some idea when they were coming back to Europe and she hung up smiling. She spent some time picking her spilled luggage off the floor and putting things back in drawers, then decided a nap was the most useful way to spend the afternoon.



Spike walked into the shelter just as the sun was lightening the horizon, cringing inwardly at the pain he knew he was going to be causing to someone who had never done anything but accept and love him. For a brief moment he compared Anne’s treatment of him the past six months with Buffy’s now-remembered cruelty through their early years and felt a small sliver of doubt slide through his determination.

He slipped into the apartment and moved silently to the bedroom door, watching Anne toss in her troubled sleep. Guilt hit his gut like a hammer as he remembered promising he wouldn’t leave her for Buffy.

(But that was before! I didn’t know. She can’t hold me to a promise that I made without having my full memories. She’ll understand. It’s Anne. She loves me and she’ll want me to be happy.)

Rather than getting into the bed that now seemed like the last place he should be, he went back into the kitchen and pulled out his remaining blood. He wasn’t really hungry, having taken in small amounts of Buffy’s rich slayer blood during the night, but he thought he ought to use it up before he had to leave.

When the microwave beeped, he heard Anne stir and he carried the cup to the table and sat down to wait for her. His heart ached when she came out of the bedroom, the night’s dried tears still evident on her thin face. She just stood in the doorway, looking at him until he dropped his eyes with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, pet,” he said simply, knowing she’d seen the truth on his face.

She nodded silently and came to sit at the table.

“You got your memories back, huh?” Her voice was flat and uninflected, as though she had left all her emotions on the tear-soaked pillow in the bedroom.

“I did. My demon got them first. He remembered her. Remembered everything about her, including what she means to me.” Anne’s flinch made his chest hurt, but he forced the words out. “Eventually, my brain caught up and I think I’ve pretty much got my whole life back now. I’m truly sorry, love, but—“

“But she means more to you than I do,” she finished for him, standing up and walking over to the sink.

“I’m sorry, Anne,” he repeated helplessly. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Are you sure?” she demanded. “Have you given this the thought you should? Maybe you just think you love her more because she’s prettier. Maybe it’s a more even contest than you thi—“

Spike gave another sigh and interrupted, “There is no contest, pet.”

She gasped at the finality of his statement, then grabbed the nearest knife and sliced across her wrist. She turned back to him, the blood flowing freely as she offered her arm to him.

“Will she give you this?” she asked desperately. “I would feed you every day. You would never have to drink pig’s blood again.”

“Bloody hell!” he leapt across the few feet separating them and immediately applied pressure to the deep cut. “You stupid bint!”

Without thinking about how she might take his action, he pulled her arm to his mouth and quickly licked the wound, effectively stopping the flow of blood and closing the gash. He grabbed a clean dish towel and tore off strips to make a bandage around her wrist before looking up into her hopeful eyes.

“That was a very foolish thing to do, love,” he said gently, leading her to a chair. “You could have bled to death.”

“You wouldn’t let me die,” she said confidently. “You would have turned me if you had to.”

She gazed at him with the confident eyes of a zealot, and he suddenly wondered if the love she’d given him so freely, the love he’d been treasuring, was based as much on his being a vampire as it was on any appreciation of him as a man. The idea of walking away from her suddenly became much less disturbing and he determined to make her understand him.

“No, Anne,” he tipped her chin up to be sure she was seeing the truth in his eyes. “I wouldn’t. I would have grieved, but I would have let you die.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she said, trying to maintain her confidence. “You’ve tasted me twice now. You won’t be able to walk away.”

He growled and stood up abruptly. “I AM walking away, pet. Not right this second – I want to help you here until we get somebody to replace me. But I am not going to be living here with you anymore. And if you pull another stupid trick like that, I’ll…”

He threw up his hands in disgust and headed for the bathroom, growling, “I’m going to get cleaned up and start packing. I’ll be down to help you around lunchtime and we’ll suss out how long I need to stay around.”

Telling herself that her vampire book was right and Spike would not be able to leave her after tasting her blood more than once, Anne confidently got dressed and went down to begin the day by serving breakfast to LA’s poor and homeless.

She paid no more attention than usual to a new arrival; a small, skinny, pale man who got his tray and then sat at a table far away from the door pretending to eat, but really just pushing his food around. She missed the amber flash of his eyes when she passed by with her still oozing wrist soaking through the bandages.

When the meal was over and the other volunteers were cleaning up and giving out chores to those homeless who did not immediately leave to begin panhandling, she went back up stairs to re-wrap her wrist. Spike was in the bedroom, stuffing jeans and tee shirts into a weathered duffle bag he’d picked up at the Salvation Army store, but he paused when he saw her fumbling with her wrist and grudgingly came out to re-bandage it for her.

“There you go, pet,” he said gruffly but not unkindly. “I’ll be down in a few to finish clearing out that basement.”

“You’re really leaving?” The disbelief in her voice was palpable.

“Told you I was. I can’t live here with you while I’m—“

“While you’re fucking the Slayer,” she finished for him coldly.

Biting back his retort and reminding himself that she had every reason to be hurt and angry, Spike just said mildly, “I was going to say, while I’m in love with another woman.”

With an angry “hmmmph!” she walked out and went back to work supervising the volunteers downstairs. Spike finished packing his few possessions and placed the bag by the door with his duster on top of it, then went down to the basement to finish moving the furniture. He worked until his senses told him the sun was down, then ran back up to the apartment to get his bag and coat.

He saw Anne talking earnestly with one of the homeless men that had spent the day inside the shelter, and he hesitated briefly before approaching her to tell her he was leaving. The man she’d been talking to scuttled out the door at his approach and he frowned, wondering what he’d done to inspire such fear in someone who didn’t even know him.

He shrugged if off and, being careful not to get too close or touch her in any way, he told Anne he was leaving for the night and told her to be sure she locked the apartment door when she went to bed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, love. I should have that basement finished and ready for you to use by lunchtime.”

“I don’t understand how you can leave me,” she said plaintively, touching the scars on her neck. “You shouldn’t be able to.”

Deciding not to get into another argument about vampires, blood, claiming and other things she didn’t understand nearly as well as she thought she did, he just shrugged and bid her “good-night” as he went out the door, anxious to get back to Buffy.


Chapter Ten

The Slayer was pacing impatiently, her trust in Spike at war with her distrust of the disturbed woman she knew Anne to be. Visions of Spike chained to a wall, kept on a leash like a pet, flitted through her brain and she scolded herself for being a fool. Nevertheless, when she heard the click of the key in the lock, she leapt on him before he was even fully inside, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him thoroughly before pulling back to look at his face and confirm that he still remembered her.

His happy grin at her enthusiastic welcome told her it was still her Spike and she relaxed and let herself slide down, blushing slightly.

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to attack you. I just was getting worried that-“

“Buffy,” he tipped her chin up to look at his face, “If there is one thing you never have to apologize for it’s being glad to see me. If I have to watch your face light up like that for another hundred years, it won’t be too long.”

He stepped back to take in her appearance, feeling another surge of warmth in his chest when he saw that she was dressed for him. She was wearing a short, tight, black skirt and a red halter top that scooped low in front to show a generous amount of cleavage. Boots with heels and a light jacket completed the look and he whistled admiringly.

“You like?” She preened in front of him, grateful that she had brought along clothes in his favorite colors.

“If I liked any more, you’d be missing your dinner AND your patrol tonight,” he growled, pulling her close to show her the effect it had on him.

She giggled her appreciation and dropped her hand to stroke him through his jeans. When he growled at her, she giggled again and said coyly, “I’m just checking to see if my wardrobe had the desired effect. Now that I know it has, we can go out.”

“Not so fast there, Slayer. You don’t get to start something like that and just walk away from it.”

He grabbed her hand and put it back on his now fully erect cock, moaning appreciatively when she squeezed it gently. His hands slid down to cup her ass and he pulled her against him, growling when she wrapped one leg around his hip to grind their pelvises together. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air, and he lifted her up so that she could wrap her other leg around him. Her skirt was pushed up to her waist, leaving nothing between them but the rapidly dampening denim of his jeans. When Spike realized she wasn’t wearing underwear, his demon burst forth and he slammed Buffy back against the door, growling in a way that went straight to her core.

Her hand slipped between them to lower his zipper and once again their actions mimicked a scene from their past as she lowered herself carefully. Their eyes never lost contact while Buffy began to ride him slowly, staring into the demon’s fierce amber glare. Unafraid, she stared back, seeing the unmistakable devotion that was visible even through the eyes of the beast. She leaned in to him and kissed his mouth, deliberately nicking her tongue on a sharp fang and reveling in the sensations as he greedily sucked on the wound.

The feel of her blood being drawn into his mouth set off shivers all over her body and she was soon clenching around him as she ground her ---- into his body. Her rich blood had its usual effect on him, and he quickly joined her in a quick, fierce conclusion to their sudden joining.

They clung together for several minutes, the slayer trying to recover her equilibrium and the vampire gasping for unneeded air. Buffy finally unwrapped her legs and let them drop to the floor, knowing instinctively that he would support her weight with his arms.

“I guess that’s what’s known as a ‘quickie’,” she mumbled against his shirt. She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest and smiled to herself, trying to remember if she’d ever heard him laugh after sex. She was suddenly seized with emotion as she realized that she was actually being held by the vampire she’d thought was dead twice over. She began to tremble and tears leaked from her eyes as she clutched his biceps tightly.

“What’s this all about now, love?” his soft, concerned voice telling her he was once again wearing the face of the man who loved her. “It wasn’t all that bad, was it?” he joked, trying to get her to lift her head so he could see what was wrong.

“It wasn’t bad,” she sniffled. “It’s just that it was…you’re really here. You’re alive and I’m touching you and I never thought—“

“And you’re not a bloody wet dream,” he agreed, immediately understanding her. “You’re Buffy and you love me and I’m not sure whether to believe it or not. Afraid I’m going to wake up and find out I’ve been unconscious for three days and dreamed the whole bloody thing, yeah?”

She nodded against his chest, rubbing her face on him like a cat marking its owner. “I thought you were gone forever,” she said softly. “That I’d let you die for me, thinking I was lying to you because I waited too long to say it.”

Buffy raised her head and looked at him with watery eyes. “I was so proud of you, I didn’t even cry at first. Every time somebody would try to say something about missing you I would go, ‘Hey! He died to save the world. My Spike saved the world. He’s a hero.’ Then, people stopped talking about you and I started to really miss you. I used to sleep all the time because when I was asleep I could pretend you were still here. I could dream about…”

She shook her head and with one of her abrupt changes in mood, she glared at him. “And all that time I was grieving, you were living it up in LA with Angel. I should send you to hell with him for doing that to me.”

“There is no way to tell you how sorry I am for that, pet. I just…I listened to the big poof when he said you’d moved on and I should let you go on and have your nice normal life. That you’d earned it. And he was right. You have earned it. You deserve better. Children, sunshine, no slaying unless you need a spot of violence—“

“That was HIS stupid idea of what I wanted. Not mine! I wanted you. And I thought I’d never see you again, never kiss you, never see you looking at me like I was something precious…”

“Isn’t that how the Immortal looks at you?” He growled, determined to defend himself against the guilt flaring up again. “Seems to me you were coping pretty we-“

“The Immortal? What the hell does a couple weeks of pretending to be interested in his slimy self so I could figure out how to kill him have to do with grieving for you? You don’t seriously think I…You do! You think I was…is that why you didn’t call me? You really thought I had forgotten you that quickly?”

Her eyes teared up again and he mentally kicked himself for believing the information from Wolfram and Hart’s informants and Andrew’s offhand “She’s moved on”.

“I’m a bloody coward and an absolute wanker.” He let go of her and hung his head. “I just never thought—“

“You didn’t think I really loved you,” she said dully. “You didn’t come because you thought I didn’t really want you.”

He sighed and rested his chin on her head. “Not quite that simple, pet. I knew you cared. Couldn’t have missed it, the things you did for me that last year. Getting me off the Hellmouth, not staking me when I was killin’, saving me from the First, getting m’chip out. But you’d have done the same for anybody you cared about – any one of the Scoobies. Didn’t have to mean you loved me. Not the way I wanted you to.

“But you’d said it, you know? You said those words when you thought I was dying and I didn’t want to put you on the spot. Didn’t want you to be with me because you thought you owed me or because you didn’t want to take them back. I was just afraid, love. I’m truly sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“If you promise never to leave me again,” she muttered as she straightened her skirt out, futilely trying to push out the wrinkles they’d just put in it.

“Never,” he whispered, brushing his lips over her face. “I’m your shadow for the rest of your life.”

“’K, then. You’re forgiven. For that. But look what you did to my skirt!”

“If you think I’m letting you go out in that skirt and no knickers…”

Buffy giggled at his sudden shift from begging for forgiveness to possessive growling, flipping her hand at him as she rummaged around in a drawer for some pants. When she pulled out underwear to go with them, he stopped her with a, “Don’t get carried away there, pet. Just don’t want the goodies to be visible – doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be accessible.” He gave her his best leer, curling his tongue up behind his teeth in a reminder of how agile and strong it was.

After a nice dinner in a small restaurant where the owner seemed to know and like Spike, they wandered hand-in-hand through the darkened streets, confident that they were unlikely to meet anything capable of harming a master vampire and a powerful slayer. They found themselves wandering toward the cemetery where Buffy had found vampires or demons every night so far and she was reminded of the demon of the other night.

“You know what I just remembered?” she said, swinging his hand like they were strolling in the sunshine or at the mall, rather than entering a dark graveyard.

“What’s that, pet?”

“When Giles got turned into a Faryl demon, Ethan said they could only be killed with something silver, and we just used a stake and fangs on that one the other night. Do you think he wasn’t really dead?”

“Dunno, don’t care,” he said carelessly. “If he could get up and run away with a stake in his heart and half his throat ripped out, more power to him. I remember ripping the head off one once. He didn’t get up and go anywhere, I can tell you.”

As they strolled around the cemetery, not finding anything evil to slay, Buffy shivered slightly in the night air and he quickly pulled off his duster to wrap it around her shoulders.

“Here you go, pet. Not like I need it to stay warm. Got you for that, don’t I?”

She gave him a grateful smile and slipped her arms into the sleeves and her hands into the pockets. In addition to Spike’s cigarettes, her fingers encountered what felt like a dried twig. She pulled it out to squint at it in the dim light, wondering why Spike was carrying a piece of plant around with him. There was something very familiar about the small piece of dried up leaves and flowers and she frowned, asking him, “What are you doing with this in your pocket?”

“Oh, that.? I dunno. Found it there when I put my coat back on after Anne took me in and started taking care of me. Thought it might mean something to me if I could remember and it gives me something to play with when I have my hands in my pockets, so I just left it there. Why?”

“Doesn’t it look familiar to you?”

He shrugged and shifted into vamp face, the better to see it in the poor light.

“Looks a bit like some of those weeds the wiccas used to use when they were….” His voice trailed off as he began to recognize the sprig for what it was.

While Spike indulged in some truly creative swearing, most of which Buffy didn’t even understand, she took the sprig of herb back from him and murmured almost to herself, “Lethe’s Bramble. It’s used in forgetting spells.”

When he stopped swearing and began to stride off down the street, she hastened to catch up.

“Don’t follow me, pet. This isn’t going to be pretty,” he growled, as he headed for the homeless shelter and his ex girlfriend.

“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, I don’t plan to follow you. I’m going to get there first so I can kill that vampire stealing bitch!”

Buffy took off at a dead run, the vampire hot on her heels as they flew past startled pedestrians so fast the people weren’t sure they’d actually seen anybody. Buffy’s slayer was fully in charge as she headed for the large building with blood in her eye. It briefly occurred to Spike that the slayer who wouldn’t kill humans was Anne’s best shot at surviving the night, as he was pretty sure Buffy, the angry girlfriend, had every intention of strangling her.

Chapter Eleven

Buffy burst in the door of the shelter, heedless of the startled looks from the few men left who had not found a bed for the night.

“Where is she?” she snarled at the closest one. Eyes wide in terror at the expression on the face of the petite blond in front of him, he pointed silently toward the basement stairs and moved quickly out the door. When an equally angry-looking Spike appeared right behind her, everyone left in the room headed for the open door; confident their chances of living through the night would be better outside than in the suddenly less-safe appearing sanctuary.

As Buffy reached the stairs, Spike caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

“Slayer. Buffy. Let me do this, love. I’m the injured party here.”

She stood rigidly, trembling with anger, then relaxed and let out a deep breath.

“All right. You can do it. But I’m coming down there with you. Who knows what she’ll try next.”

Rolling his eyes at the idea that Anne had anything else left, he stepped in front of Buffy and jumped quickly to the bottom of the stairs. His sudden arrival on the basement floor brought a startled shriek from a woman he’d never seen before. It took a few seconds before it registered that in spite of her obvious fear of him, the only heartbeats he could hear in the room were Anne’s and Buffy’s.

Amber eyes flashed at him from the only other man in the room, and he felt his demon respond to the threat. Although there was no mistaking the pallor of the three thin women with him, they made no attempt to vamp out, but huddled together in fear behind the skinny demon. Anne was still holding the linens she’d been about to hand to them when she saw Spike’s face. She froze, bedding in hand, and began to back away from her ex lover and the clearly angry woman behind him.

“Slayer…” he said calmly knowing she would understand him.

“I’m on it.” She stepped to his side, stake in hand. A little voice inside her whispered, “Let them have her. Then you’ll have a good excuse to slay her.” and she said with some reluctance, “Step away from them, Anne. You know what they are.”

“I know they’re homeless. They need a place to live, just like anybody else.”

“You’re going to let them set up a lair in your basement?” The slayer’s voice went up an octave. “What are you planning to do, serve them any clients that give you a hard time?”

“W…we don’t kill people,” one of the women whispered. “We…I don’t bite anybody unless they want me to.”

Spike and Buffy took another look at the three heavily made up and scantily clad women. While Spike sneered and muttered, “Bloody hell, Anne” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oh, even better, you’re setting up a vamp whorehouse.”

“You don’t need to be so high and mighty,” the male vamp sniffed, feeling braver now that no one was dust yet. “Living here was good enough for your boy friend until you came back.”

Barely maintaining control over his demon, Spike snarled, “And you would be what – their pimp?”

“He takes care of them,” Anne said bravely, stepping between Spike and the growling vamp. “If I let them live here, he’ll take your place working here when you leave.”

While Spike was struck speechless, Buffy gestured to the three cowering female vampires and hissed, “Get out of here. Now, before I change my mind.”

She stepped further into the room so that they could skitter past her and up the stairs, resisting the urge to hurl her stake into someone’s back as they went by. Meanwhile, Spike was stalking toward his former lover and the vampire hiding behind her.

“It was never about me, was it?” he growled. “It was all about having a vampire. Is that why you did this?” He pulled the Lethe’s Bramble from his pocket and waved it in her shocked face. “So you could have your own pet vampire?”

He slipped out of vamp face and allowed the hurt to show through the anger as he said, “You never loved me, did you? You couldn’t have done that to me if you did.”

“I did love you! I loved you before you ever came to live here,” she insisted with a sob. “I still do! But you never looked at me. You would have left LA after the battle if you’d remembered who you were. You would have left me to find Buffy. Just like you’re leaving me now. You’re leaving with her,” she pointed to a still angry slayer. “In spite of everything, you’re going back to her and—“

“Everything? What everything?”

“Nothing, love. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Oh yes, you do. If you’ve got all your memories back, then you know how she sent all those slayers to get the crazy one that cut off your hands. Where was she then, huh? She couldn’t even be bothered to come when you were hurt. You know that when Fred got sick the council refused to help. They let her die. And when you and Angel took on all those demons and dragons, where was your precious slayer then? Where was the help? You would have died if I hadn’t found you and pulled you in out of the sun. She didn’t care.”

“She didn’t know,” Buffy said in a deadly tone. “There was good reason not to trust Angel with an insane slayer, especially after he took over Wolfram and Hart. And what does she mean, Dana cut off your hands?”

Anne continued as though Buffy hadn’t spoken. “What about Fred? Gunn told me, Angel called and asked for help finding out what was killing her and your watcher turned him down. Told him to deal with it himself.”

Buffy looked at Spike for confirmation and when he nodded she shut her eyes briefly. “I’m sorry about Fred. I didn’t know. Giles handles the council business. He never told me Angel called.”

“Nice to know the wanker is still his compassionate self,” Spike muttered.

“Spike, we thought Angel might have turned evil again. We were afraid to trust him. I…I told Giles not to trust him. I’m sorry.”

“You see!” Anne’s high-pitched voice interrupted their muted conversation. “She didn’t trust anybody. She didn’t trust YOU.”

Slayer and vampire stared into each other’s eyes, ignoring the other two people in the room.

“I would have trusted you,” she said softly. “If I’d known, I would have trusted you.”

“It’s alright, pet,” he said with a sigh. “We didn’t trust him ourselves for a while there. No reason why you should have.”

They stepped closer to each other and Buffy asked softly, “Do you think we’ll ever get to a place where we aren’t apologizing to each other for something?”

“I hope not,” he grinned lasciviously. “The more fights we have, the more often we get to make up.”

While Anne glared at the flirting pair, the other vampire tried to use their focus on each other to sneak up the stairs. He eased around Anne and edged along the wall, moving swiftly and silently until Spike’s hand shot out and grabbed him around the neck.

Never taking his eyes off Buffy’s, he asked, “What do you want to do with this wanker, love?”

She glanced at the frightened, snarling demon Spike was holding and said, “You know if we leave him here, she’s going to take him in sooner or later.”

Spike looked from the scrawny vampire to the woman he’d thought loved him for who he was and shrugged.

“She deserves what she gets,” he said, dropping the vamp to the floor.

“I won’t hurt her,” he snarled, rubbing his neck. “I know how to appreciate what I have.”

“So do I,” Spike said, pulling Buffy closer. “And I’ve got the real thing. A woman who loves all of me, not just the demon inside.”

With one last look of contempt at the woman he’d thought was in love with him and at the pathetic vampire cowering against the wall, he took Buffy’s hand and started up the stairs. He stopped when he felt Buffy halt behind him and turned to see her staring at Anne and the vamp with the cold eyes of a killer.

She waited until Anne met her gaze; then said clearly and distinctly, “I slay vampires, Lily. You and your new friend there need to remember that. If he turns you, I’ll be back…for both of you.”

Anne lifted her chin defiantly and glared back. She fingered the fading scars on her neck and said stubbornly, “He’ll be back for me. He won’t be able to stay away from my blood.”

“Nice try,” Buffy sneered, “but I know that’s not a claim.” She tilted her head and pushed her golden waves to one side. “THIS is a claim,” she sniffed, turning her back on the other woman’s stricken face and triumphantly following Spike the rest of the way up the stairs.

They were silent until they’d walked most of the way toward the hotel, the slayer still seething and the vampire trying to reconcile the pain of finding out it wasn’t the man that Anne had loved with the joy of hearing Buffy announce that she belonged to him. Their only conversation consisted of Buffy’s remark that she would ask the LA slayers to keep an eye on the shelter and its manager and do whatever needed to be done.

Spike nodded silently and pondered the changes that had taken place through the years. The slayer he first met in Sunnydale saw the whole world in black and white. Vampires – bad, slay; humans – good, protect. This new, mature slayer was able to see the shades of gray that surrounded them and always had. He wondered when she had started seeing things that way and how much their twisted relationship might have had to do with it.

Without discussion, they entered the hotel and went directly to her room. While Buffy went into the bathroom briefly, Spike called room service and ordered a bottle of iced champagne sent up. She looked at him curiously when he hung up the phone, but didn’t ask what he’d been doing. Instead she sat down and took off her boots, then started to remove her halter top.

“Best leave that on for a few, love,” Spike said, stoking her arm appreciatively and nuzzling the low neckline.

Her lip came out in a pout when the knock on the door interrupted his tongue’s exploration of her bare chest. Laughing gently, Spike gave one last lick to her exposed nipple, and tugged the top back up before he walked to the door. He quickly took the icer and champagne from the waiter, handing over the tip he already had in his hand and closing the door on his face before the man could respond.

He set the bottle and bucket next to the bed; then turned to look at the puzzled slayer.

“I thought we might get thirsty…later,” he offered as an explanation.

“So you got champagne?”

“Well,” he said, nibbling on his marks on her neck and smiling when she shivered all over, “I also thought we might want to have a toast at some point and—“

Her lips on his effectively stopped his explanation and he willingly let her push him backwards until he fell onto the bed. He pulled his arms around her lower back and held her hips against his as she continued the kiss until she had to stop for air. While she panted against his neck, he slowly unzipped her pants, sliding an appreciative hand over her smooth bare ass as he pushed them down. With a moan, she slid off to the side and lay bonelessly while he slowly removed the only two pieces of clothing she’d worn that night.

When she was naked and spread shamelessly before him, Spike stopped to soak in the sight and revel in the lust and love glazing her eyes. Without bothering to remove his own clothes, he began to worship her body with his lips and tongue, beginning at her hairline and trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw, across her throat, and onto her collarbone. He paused at each rosy nipple to suck and lick on it until they were both standing up into little hard peaks and Buffy was pushing them toward his mouth with small mews of contentment.

While his mouth was busy at her breasts, his hand was stroking down her sunkissed skin until he found the neatly trimmed hairs at the bottom of her abdomen. He ran his cool fingers all around the area that she was soon arching up at him, stroking the insides of her thighs, lightly walking them across the skin of her stomach and smiling when he saw the muscles clench in anticipation. He dipped one finger into the moisture pooling between her legs and spread it up her cleft to coat it in her juices. He did that several more times, smiling at the way she gasped each time he reached her needy clit. Then he brought his finger to his mouth and sucked off the wetness there.

Her moaned, “Spiiiiiiike….” And the way she spread her legs even more for him put an end to his teasing and he buried his face in her, lapping up the moisture he’d help spread and worrying her clit lightly with his blunt teeth. He sucked it into his mouth, pulling on it with the strength of a creature that drinks its meals from the veins of live, unwilling hosts, until he felt her begin to tremble around him and gasp his name.

He held on to her while she bucked and moaned until she fell back with a final shudder. Then he released his hold on her hips and stood up to remove his own clothes. Stripping quickly, he joined her on the bed, pressing his erection into her hip and nuzzling at her throat.

“I want you, Buffy,” he breathed into her neck. “Want to make you mine forever.”

“All of you wants me?” she managed to whisper, still shaking from the orgasm he’d created.

“All of me. My body craves your touch, my demon wants to possess you, and the poncy poet inside wants to write sonnets to you until you run screaming from the room.”

“I don’t want all those people mad at me,” she smiled into the curls tickling her face. “So I guess we’d better give them what they want, huh?”

“Only if you want it too, sweetheart,” he said, suddenly serious. “This is going to be for as long as we live. You’ll be mine. Even if we’re not together, the connection will still be there. Need you to be sure, love.”

Instead of answering him, she asked, “And you’ll be mine, right?”

“I’ve always been yours, my love. I always will be.”

“Then I will always be yours,” she murmured.

“That works out nicely, then,” he purred happily, covering her body with his and sliding into her waiting warmth. He rocked his hips gently at first, still getting used to being back in the place he wanted to stay until he dusted. It wasn’t long before the tightness and heat in which he had buried his cock was making slow and gentle a thing of the past and he began to pound into her harder, causing Buffy to grab the side of the mattress to prevent being smashed into the headboard.

She let go long enough to flip them over, leaving her riding his hips, pushing down onto him as hard as she could while he continued to drive up into her. Her nails dug bloody furrows on his chest as she clenched around him and she leaned forward, licking the blood that trickled from them.

“Mine,” she growled against his chest, feeling her orgasm building and knowing what was coming. She stretched out along his body, hips never stopping, and presented her neck to his true face. Spike’s surprise at hearing her make a claim first quickly evaporated in the face of the succulent blood pulsing scant centimeters from his fangs.

“Yours,” he gasped before sinking his canines into the marks he’d already put on her soft throat. When he began pulling deep draughts of her blood, she screamed in ecstasy as she was caught in spiraling waves of pain/pleasure. His own release continued for so long he thought he was going to lose consciousness from the sensations flowing between them.

Somewhere in the part of his brain that wasn’t completely lost in pain and pleasure he realized that he was pulling too much from the willing woman in his arms, and he tore his mouth away with a guttural “Mine.”

“Yours,” she whispered before passing out. “Yours forever.”

It was several exhausted minutes before it occurred to Spike that Buffy wasn’t moving and he felt his heart freeze when he couldn’t hear hers beating any more. An anguished scream was already working its way out of his throat when he felt, more than heard, a faint thump against his chest. Clutching her to him and praying to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in, he held as still as only a dead man can, waiting to feel another thump.

When he felt and heard the slightly stronger thud, he felt his eyes flood with tears and he began to shake. By the time Buffy’s heartbeat was steady, if slow, he had moved her off to one side and was trying to force some champagne through her pale lips. When her eyes fluttered open and she was able to rasp, “Ok, so THAT was a claim. My mistake,” he collapsed onto her stomach sobbing with relief and regret.

“Not exactly feeling the happiness here,” she whispered, lifting one weak hand to pet his head. “What’s the matter? Are you sorry you did it?” A trace of uncertainty slipped into her attempt at cheering him up, and at the sound of her fear he sobbed harder.

“Spike?” Real concern was now present and she struggled weakly to push him off so she could sit up and look at him. Forcing himself to gain control, he rolled off of her, still clinging to her body, but swallowing his sobs until he was able to answer.

“I almost killed you,” he gasped out. “I almost let the demon drain you with the claim.”

“Kinda woulda defeated the purpose, wouldn’t it?” she asked, sounding slightly stronger as her slayer healing kicked. “Claim me for the rest of my life and then kill me off? Not too smart.”

“You don’t understand, pet. I want you forever. If you’d died the demon would have wanted to turn you. Make you immortal, like me.”

“Would you have done that?” her voice shook as she finally understood why he was so upset.

He shook his head vigorously. “No, love. I wouldn’t do that to you. Know you wouldn’t want it. I’d have let you go to the peace you deserve. And then I would have walked out to meet tomorrow’s sunrise. God, I am such a bloody fuck-up!”

There was silence for minutes as they were lost in their own thoughts. Through the claim, Spike could feel Buffy’s confusion and compassion. He could also feel the love that still emanated from her. He felt no righteous anger, no fear, just a calm acceptance of what had happened.

Buffy could feel his intense pain at his actions, the fear of losing her that still lingered, and over all of it the abiding love that he’d held for her in the face of years of rejection, abuse and abandonment. She could feel the love washing over her, soothing the pain of the bites and surrounding her with warmth and a fierce desire to protect her from harm.

“Hey,” she said softly, “buy a girl a drink?” She waved a hand at the glass of champagne he’d set down when she awoke and he scrambled to raise it to her lips watching eagerly as she sipped slowly.

“As soon as I know you’re going to be alright, I’ll go get you some orange juice,” he said apologetically.

“Orange juice, grape juice, same thing,” she said, taking bigger sips as she began to feel stronger. “This will do me.”

She sat up and began to drink it in earnest, switching glasses when the one she was drinking from was empty. She drained the other glass and looked at him expectantly.

“More, please,” she said imperiously, holding out her glass.

“You’re going to get snockered, pet,” he said with a tentative smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she said cheerfully, waving her re-filled glass around. “You’ve gotten me drunk before.”

“I was trying to get you into bed then. Now I want to get you out of it.” At her disbelieving look, he amended, ”Well, maybe not out of it, but at least strong enough to get out of it should there be a reason to.”

“I think I need to replace my fluids,” she said primly. “And you should be helping me do it since you took them away.”

Spike sighed and reached for his pants. “I’m going to get you some orange juice and water. You just wait here and rest.”

As he watched her toss down another glass of the rapidly disappearing champagne, he grimaced. Crossing to the bathroom, he filled the glass in there with water and brought it to her, saying, “Try to stay sober until I get back, please pet?”

“Fine, Mr. Party Pooper,” she grumbled, replacing the champagne flute with the bathroom water glass. “But you better be quick.”

“Back in a flash, love.” He dropped a kiss on her head and looked into her eyes. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he mused almost to himself.

“Almost as much as I love you,” she offered softly watching him walk out the door.

While he was gone, Buffy drained the water glass and feeling much better, got up to wander around the room. She decided to blame her dizziness on the blood loss rather than the champagne and poured herself another glass when she passed near the bottle.

“Shhhh,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “Don’t tell Shpike. He’s a worry-wart. Thinks I can’t hold my likker, but I’ll show him…”

She held the glass up to the girl in the mirror and offered a toast. “To Buffy and Shpike. They’re claimed. Mates forever. I wonder what forever feels like?” she mumbled as she drained the glass.

Staggering back over to the bed, she poured some more champagne into two glasses, spilling only a small amount of it on the nightstand. “Go, slayer coordination,” she giggled, swiping at it with her discarded top. Which caused her to notice her lack of clothing. She was frowning down at herself as Spike came back through the door carrying a sixpack of water and a half-gallon carton of orange juice.

“Did you know I was naked?” she demanded, kneeling up on the bed to glare at him.

“I did notice that, pet,” he answered, staring suspiciously at the two filled champagne flutes. “Been replacing those fluids again, have you?” he said, with a smile.

“You told me to,” she said self-righteously. “I was just obeying my mate.”

“Good thing to do,” he grinned, shedding his clothes quickly. “Think you might be able to make it a habit?”

“Nope!” she said, poking him with her finger. “I jus’ did it caush I wanted ‘nother drink.”

“Have I mentioned how adorable you are when you’re drunk?”

“Even when I throw up on your boots?” she asked meekly, showing that she might not be quite as drunk as she seemed.

“Even then,” he agreed, sitting back against the headboard and pulling her back against his chest. As it always was around her, his cock was hard enough to be nudging against her back, but he was content for the moment to ignore it and just enjoy the warm body leaning against him. He tilted his head and looked at the angry-looking marks on her throat. Lowering his mouth to her neck he gently laved the fang-shaped punctures, smiling at Buffy’s contented sighs as he did so.

“We need to make our toast,” she said finally, turning her head so that he could kiss her.

“All right, love. Hand me one of those glasses, won’t you?”

Buffy turned around to face him, sitting on his lap and wrapping her legs around his hips as she clinked her glass against his. His now fully erect cock was sticking up between them making Buffy smile.

“Is that thing ever asleep?” she giggled, dribbling champagne onto it and bending with slayer flexibility to lick if off. Spike groaned as her warm tongue moved over the tip and made him even harder.

“Not when you’re around, it isn’t,” he growled, lifting her hips up until she was poised over him. “Why don’t we just put it away where you don’t have to look at it, yeah?” He lowered her until he was fully sheathed inside her and her warm ass was pressing against his balls.

“Mmmmmmmm, good place for it,” she agreed, wriggling slightly and sighing with pleasure.

“Now then, where were we, pet?” he asked, picking his glass back up.

“We were toasting Spike and Buffy cause they’re…claimed? Mated? Married? What are we?”

“We’re us, love. We’re together in a way that very few couples, human or vampire, can ever be. It doesn’t matter what we call it, we’re just us. Buffy and Spike.”

“To us,” she whispered, touching her glass against his gently.

“To us,” he agreed, for the first time in his life feeling as though he truly belonged to someone completely.

Never taking their eyes off each other, they drank deeply from the brimming flutes. When the glasses were empty, green eyes that sparkled with mischief met equally delighted blue ones and they turned as one to hurl the glasses against the far wall. Slayer and vampire strength left no doubt as to the fate of the unfortunate flutes as they shattered into thousands of tiny sharp shards.

Spike looked back at his mate, fully prepared to finish the celebration in the most appropriate way, only find her eyes drifting shut as she slowly slumped forward to begin to snore on his chest.

“I guess the honeymoon’s over,” he grumbled with a smile as he slid down on the bed so that she was lying on top of him, his cock still safely inside her warm depths. With a happy sigh, he turned off the nearby lamp and settled down to protect his mate as she slept in his arms.

The end.

 
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