Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer was not written by me (though it should have been). I take no actual credit for the show and make no money from these stories. (Nominated for a few awards, though. Hah!)

Authors Note: Much thanks to the readers making it known that they enjoy the story, and much thanks to slaymesoftly for the wonderful beta work she’s done on my story.
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Day 6


Sleep was a necessary evil. It was needed, but it was lonely. It was also downright frightening to Buffy. She always went to sleep terrified that she would be wasting her last moments with the one she loved. The arm draped around her was the reassurance she always sought when waking up.

Turning over, she took a moment to study the sharp, beautiful features of the vampire lying beside her. She couldn’t help but smile. He was doing that silly, adorable purring again. It was like lying beside a really big kitten.

Of course, if she told him that, his big bad pride would be wounded and she might not get sex. It was best to keep some things to one’s self.

Reaching up, Buffy gently traced her fingertips across his brow, then down over his cheek. The purring grew louder for a moment. Then his eyes opened half way to watch her. He was obviously still drowsy, so for a moment he was unaware of his own likeness to a kitten. Then, after hearing his own purr in the air, he quickly ceased the noise. Buffy pouted at its loss, but then gave him a dazzling smile.

“Hello handsome.”

He grinned. “’lo beautiful Slayer.”

“Sleep well?”

His gaze turned inward for a moment, and then he seemed briefly awestruck. “Yeah…” He looked back at her and smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

“Any good dreams?”

Spike grinned again, smirking at her suggestively. He looked her up and down. “A few that would have guaranteed a good punch in the nose a couple years ago.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. “I’m not going to punch you, Spike. If I was ever going to again, it would have happened last night.”

“I know,” Spike sounded thoroughly smug. “I think ‘m just gloatin’ now. The fact that my nose has remained perfectly intact for almost a week is a cause for celebration.”

He looked so perfectly happy that Buffy could feel a fit of helpless giggles coming on. “You’re not going to burst into song again, are you?”

“Oi!” Spike pouted for a moment, but then the grin fought its way back to the surface. “I might, if we keep this up.”

She laughed. “That bad, hah?”

“Let’s just say that it’s a good thing I won my soul fair and square. If it’d been a curse, it would have flown the coop by now.” He got up on his hands and knees. There was a sudden predatory glint in his eyes.

Buffy’s eyes widened in mock terror and she rolled away. She attempted to escape, but he pounced on her, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her back to the center of the bed, kicking and giggling. He growled low into her ear and nibbled on her earlobe.

“Hey…if that were to somehow happen…do you think we’d have to worry about me havin’ sudden thoughts of destroyin’ the world?” He made his tone as serious as possible.

She burst out laughing, but then quickly quieted herself, so as not to offend him.

Spike pushed her down onto her back on the bed, then covered her body with his own. He raised an eyebrow at her, his amusement obvious. “I guess I’ll take that as a no?”

“You just…never really struck me as the ‘destroying the world’ type.” She gave a sheepish shrug.

“True enough.”

Without warning, Spike’s head dipped down and his lips found the mark on her throat where he had bitten her. It was mostly healed by then, but still sent little shocks of pleasure and great shivers throughout her body. She gasped, arching up to meet his soft lips and their teasing caress. Buffy tried to stifle a moan as she gripped his shoulders hard and held him to her.

His soft growl sent another shiver down her back. She could feel his tongue dart across the puncture wounds and tease the healing flesh. She was aroused again almost instantly. She closed her legs together and tried hard to ignore the feeling, until she felt Spike’s hand creeping down towards her sex. Relieved at the attention, her legs fell open and she gasped again when his cool fingers brushed against her pussy.


“Oh god…” She wasn’t sure how he could bring about such a response just by paying attention to his own bite mark…

Spike’s tongue was worshipping the bite mark, then moving slowly up her neck to her ear. He nibbled at her earlobe, tugging at it gently and bringing another gasp from her lips. “Don’t suppose you would let me bite you again? I’d really like a chance not to bollix up the moment this time…”

Buffy definitely had to think about what he was suggesting. She had enjoyed the feeling the last time, but the terror that had come over her after he had run away…what if something went wrong again?

He felt her stiffen underneath him. He raised his head and kissed her temple tenderly. “It’s alright. We don’t need to-“

“I want to.” She pulled away just enough to see his face. She smiled up at him, the love and adoration in her eyes making her smile even more beautiful. “I really do…” Buffy reached up and gently traced a fingertip against his bottom lip.

He grinned at her, relieved at the second chance. He bent his head down towards her neck again. She turned her head, willingly exposing herself to him in a way that made his heart swell.

His blunt teeth brushed softly against the mark, while his tongue caressed it in teasing strokes all over again. Buffy could feel herself getting wetter by the second. Her legs fell open to welcome his wandering hand, but he refused to touch her aching core just yet.

Buffy groaned out loud in frustration, arching her hips to beg for attention. He chuckled softly. His hand dipped down and caressed her thighs. His face then moved away from her neck. He brought his exploring tongue to her breasts instead.

The tip of his tongue moved slowly between her breasts, then up one to stroke the nipple. Spike’s hand gave plenty of attention to the other breast. He squeezed and fondled gently.

When he had Buffy squirming and panting from the soft touches, he moved downward. His lips worshipped every inch of golden skin they touched. Spike trailed tender kisses from Buffy’s breasts all the way down her stomach. He paid special attention to her hips as he made his way closer to her pussy. The scent of her arousal already had him hard and aching for her.

“Spike…” she moaned his name as his lips brushed softly across her thighs.

He grinned wickedly while he continued his tender torture. When his Slayer was squirming with her need, he parted her pussy lips and dipped his tongue into her moist heat.

Buffy’s eyes widened and she arched her hips closer to his mouth. “Yes! Spike, please!”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” He didn’t give her time to glare down at him. He thrust his tongue back into her sweet quim. He teased, stroked and caressed, driving her mercilessly towards the edge.

Just as she was about to reach her peak, he pulled away. She was about to protest, when she felt his face shift against her thigh. He moved his mouth across both thighs, the scrape of sharp fangs replacing soft lips.

Spike moved slowly up her body after teasing her with soft brushes of his fangs. He placed gentle kisses on her belly, then between her breasts again. His tongue danced across one nipple before he raised his head to look her in the eye.

Buffy wasn’t entirely sure what he was up to. She gripped his shoulders hard, not looking away from his intense golden gaze. Reaching up hesitantly, she traced her fingertips gently over his ridges. At the sound of his soft purr of pleasure, she grew bolder. She pulled him down closer to her as if to kiss him, but instead her lips went to his brow. She kissed his forehead ridges softly, paying extra attention to the scar. His body shuddered and trembled above her.

Before she could explore more, his hand had moved between her thighs. Her eyes widened as he thrust two of his fingers inside of her. She groaned and laid her head back against the pillow as his talented fingers went to work on her. She was unable to concentrate on what she had been doing, instead finding herself on the edge of orgasm again. His thumb was rubbing teasingly at her clit, but not with enough pressure to bring her to completion.

Buffy moved her hips with every thrust of his fingers. Her eyes were locked with her lover’s, until he lowered his head to whisper in her ear.

“Love you, Buffy…my Golden Goddess…heavenly Slayer, you don’t know what you do to me…”

He thrust his fingers into her faster, and his thumb was rubbing her clit harder. Buffy’s legs were shaking from the pleasure; it was building inside of her and was so close to exploding...

When his fangs entered her neck her eyes widened and the only sound she could make was a desperate gasp. She dug her nails into his shoulder and held him close as he bit her. At the first pull of her blood into his mouth she screamed, her body exploding in pleasure and her legs quivering as she closed them around his hand.


…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Spike had been attentive to the point of coddling after the bite. He seemed nervous at first, thinking she would change her mind. When he wasn’t silently searching for her condemnation, he was playing with the mark on her neck, licking it softly to taste her or tease her.

Once Buffy had soothed his fears, he had gone downstairs to prepare food. She took her very first private shower since their time together began. She wanted to pout over it. What made her pout more was the fact that he wasn’t right outside waiting for her once she was done.

Wandering outside her room with just a towel on, she tried to see if Spike had returned upstairs. When she couldn’t find any sign of him, she peeked down the staircase.

“Spike?”

She could hear the basement door open. There was also humming…there was definitely humming. But what she didn’t like was the overly casual sound of the humming. If there could be evil humming, Spike would be doing it. He was up to something.

“Spike?” she tried again, making her way half way down the stairs.

“Nice and clean, are we?” He stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs. The mischievous glint in his eye wasn’t exactly setting her at ease.

“What are you up to?” She didn’t bother beating around the bush.

“Me?” His eyes were wide, and he tried to take on a look of innocence. “Whatever would I be up to, luv?”

He was hiding something. Specifically, he was hiding something behind his back. When he noticed that she had figured that out, he took a hasty step back away from the stairs.

“What are you hiding?” There was a slightly dangerous note to her voice now.

“Now, Slayer…” Spike tried to reason with her. “You keep an evil bloke in your basement, eventually he’s goin’ to find some way to get into evil mischief…” To demonstrate his point, he held up one hand that was holding a pink ribbon bound book…

Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw the book in his hand. It was none other than one of her diaries. She hadn’t kept a diary since she was ripped out of heaven. When she changed rooms, she had packed up her old ones and stashed them in the basement. If her memory served her well, it was the one she had written in right around the second year she had lived in Sunnydale…

“Did you…?” her eyes were wide with shock at the idea that he might have poked around in it. “Give it!” She immediately ran down the stairs towards him.

Grinning wickedly, Spike took off, flipping through the pages of the diary.

“Spike!” She ran after him, slipping on the hardwood floor for a moment. She clutched the towel closed in front of her as she took off after the vampire. The both circled the living room furniture before Spike took off towards the kitchen.
“Now, there’s one entry here that really interests me…” Spike carried on with a casual conversation, as if he weren’t running for his unlife. “September 29th, 1997.”

Buffy’s eyes widened when she realized he was reading off the day they had first met. She quickened her pace, swiping at him to try and grab his T-shirt and pull him closer, but he was dodging her and circling around the dining room table, always keeping himself out of reach.

“’Dear Diary’” he read off, always keeping just out of her reach. “’Why are the cute ones always dead?’”

She dove right over the table and tried to snatch the book from his hand. The vampire held it up right out of her reach and grabbed onto her shoulder so she wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor. Once she tried to rise on her own feet again, he grabbed her towel and yanked it from her. He then took off running towards the kitchen.

Buffy squealed in protest, but didn’t bother trying to find something else to cover herself. She took off after Spike, murder in her eyes.

Buffy squealed in protest, but didn’t bother trying to find something else to cover herself. She took off after Spike, murder in her eyes.

“’I managed to meet a guy at the bronze tonight, (not that I was looking), that was drop dead gorgeous. Too bad he was also a vampire. After dusting his buddy, I got a good look at bleached hair, chiseled cheekbones to die for, and a whole lot of leather. Oh! And can’t forget the sexy accent.” Spike ran around the kitchen quickly, barely dodging Buffy before being herded back into the dining room. “’Of course, the usual death threat was a bit of a turn off. Still, if I wasn’t totally head over heels with Angel, and if the guy had a pulse, he’d be definite bone-jumping material.’” Once he thought they were both done circling the table again, he leapt onto it, running across the table itself before jumping back into the living room and turning to face the Slayer hot on his heels. “’He and I have a date for Saturday, when he apparently intends to kill me.’”

Closing the diary, the vampire gave Buffy one of the most smug grins she had ever seen.

“Somebody had the hots for me since the day we met.” He laughed.

Clenching her teeth in anger, Buffy ran at him at full speed and tackled him. She got the satisfaction of seeing his eyes go wide as he tried to duck too late. She slammed into him and sent them both sprawling onto the couch. Spike was laughing even as she pinned him beneath her. Buffy knew that her face must have been red. It wasn’t bad enough that she was chasing him around the house naked while he was fully clothed…

Quickly snatching the diary from him, she tossed it across the room. “Yeah?” she tried to bluff. “So? So…” She blushed again. “Well, now you know what I thought when we first met. And hey, first impressions can be wrong.”

“Oi!” he narrowed his eyes up at her.

“Fine,” Buffy huffed. “What did you think of ME when we first met?”

“When I first saw you…I thought…’Fire’.” He grinned up at her from his position beneath her.

“Hah?”

He grinned. “I thought, ‘This one’s different.’” He flipped them over suddenly, so that he was on top. He pinned her naked body beneath him, looking down at her with passion and tenderness all at the same time. There was even wonder creeping up into his gaze as he studied her. “She’s differentfrom the rest. She’s got a fire that the other slayers couldn’t even touch. I remember…one of my very first thoughts about you…’Beware, mate…if you’re not careful, she’ll burn you all up.’”

**********************************************************************

It took a while to ensure the angry Slayer that Spike had not read through her entire diary. He told her that he had only flipped through to see the entries that mentioned him. He had absolutely no desire to read about her infatuation with Angel.

That didn’t do much to lesson her anger at first.

But Spike’s curiosity was now insatiable. He suddenly had to know everything about her, every past memory, thought and feeling. He had an overwhelming curiosity about the things she had never told him.

“I’ve known you were a brunette for a while now, luv.” He peeked at the picture over her shoulder. “Never thought I’d actually SEE it, though.”

They had pulled out almost every photo album that Buffy could find. Monty Python was playing on the television, but neither of them was paying attention. Spike had his arms wrapped around Buffy and was paying strict attention to her every word as she explained the details of the pictures, and the events where they were taken.

A family photo at the ice rink caught Spike’s eye. The whole family was sitting on the benches, Buffy in her ice skates. Her mother and father were sitting behind her, with little Dawn sitting on Joyce’s lap.

“Well, look at that,” he said softly. “Bite size is really a bite size.”

Buffy smiled, then peered up at Spike, who’s gaze focussed only on the picture with a wistful, but sad smile on his face. She took his hand, squeezing gently. She had the suspicion that Spike had loved her sister for years.

She leaned close to him and placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. Her words were a gentle whisper across his skin. “She forgave you.”

His eyes widened and his gaze snapped quickly to hers. When he saw the sincerity written across her face he turned quickly away, hiding the way his eyes had suddenly misted.

Buffy decided to give him a moment to compose himself. She flipped through the pages of the photo album and came across one of her eighth birthday party. She was wearing a silly pointed hat, sitting on her mother’s lap while everyone waited for her to blow out the candles. She soon found her own eyes growing misty.

“I can’t believe it’s all gone…” She took a look around the living room. “Everything…every picture, every reminder…” Buffy looked down at her mother’s face again, so warm and full of happiness. “I really miss her.”

Spike’s arms wrapped around her, and he rested his head on her shoulder. “I liked her, you know…your mum.”

She grinned. “That would explain why you had hot chocolate with her…”

“Not gonna turn down a sympathetic ear.” He shrugged. “Heart o’ gold and tough as nails. That’s where you get it from…” He kissed her neck tenderly.

Buffy was glad for a moment that he couldn’t see the tears that had spilled over onto her cheeks. She took one of Spike’s hands and squeezed it softly, loving the feel of his comforting arms while she still had them.

“You know, luv,” he spoke softly. “I figured somethin’ out. I thought for a long time that bein’ the Slayer is what drew me to you first. That ‘unnatural obsession’ I always had, yeah? Well, I don’t think it’s because you’re the Slayer anymore…I think it’s because you’re a Summers woman.”

Leaning back against him, she watched Spike’s hands as he flipped through the photo album. She smiled as she noticed that he skipped all over all the pictures including her father without pause, and settled only on those of herself, her mother and her younger sister.

“Your mum fought for you, not even knowing what I was, what she was getting herself into. I think that’s because, to her, it didn’t matter what she was walkin’ into, so long as it kept you safe. Then, later, when she wasn’t swingin’ an axe at me, and knew full well what I was, she let me into her home and showed compassion, even when she had nothing to gain from it. I wasn’t a monster to her. As long as I showed respect, I got it right back.”

“Then there’s your sister…” His fingertips lingered over a picture of Dawn for a moment. “All brass and sass. Never was afraid of me, you know. Let me know she thought I was worth bein’ around, though. She put me in my place when I needed it, and even before I gave up all hope of bein’ evil again, I would never have even considered hurtin’ her. I’d protect her until death.”

He flipped the page again. Now a fifteen-year-old Buffy with a pink dress and bright smile stared up at them. “And then, there’s you.” He felt Buffy shiver as he placed a gentle kiss on her neck. “How many times have you fought for this world? Saved it? Risked everything? You’re a fierce warrior wrapped up in love and light…a light that I wasn’t supposed to want. But I did…from the moment I saw you, I wanted to touch what made you different. I wanted to be part of that…just being near you made me want to be something more, something better.”

Suddenly closing the photo album, Spike sighed in exasperation. He tossed it onto the coffee table before turning a surprised Buffy around on his lap. He gave her a mock glare. “Bloody hell, you Summers women. You might as well hang my rocks up on your mantle piece, cause apparently they’re family property, now.”

Buffy giggled at the disturbing mental image before leaning forward for a chaste kiss. When she pulled back to study him, she was overcome with sudden curiosity. “What was your family like?”

A brief flash of alarm passed over his eyes. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“We always talk about my family…” She explained. “I don’t think I’ve ever once heard you mention yours.”

“Well, uh…” he shrugged. “Not much to tell…my father died when I was young, my younger sister followed when she was eleven… it was just me and my mum for a long time.”

Buffy bit at her lower lip, agitated at the idea of bringing up what she knew was a sensitive subject… “When we were looking for the trigger…the song that put you under the first’s control…you said it had something to do with your mother.”
His body stiffened under her touch, his expression becoming guarded.

“And then, after Wood tried to kill you…” she continued. “You said you had it all squared away, found out what was wrong…was it really about her? What could have happened that would…?”

She stopped, taking in his closed off expression. His eyes were directed towards the photo album on the coffee table again. He was doing his best to avoid her gaze.

Nodding in understanding, Buffy stopped pushing. She rested her head gently on his shoulder, stroking his arm and trying to bring him back to her. The last thing she wanted was to have him think that he had to hide from her.

“Do you know why most vamps kill their families, Buffy?”

The question caught her completely off guard, and also sent a sinking feeling to her gut.

“Some, like that git Angelus, died hating them, or carrying grudges…they would return and wipe out their last connection with their humanity. They would take out their grudges by slaughtering the lot of them. Other vamps…” he sighed, closing his eyes against a heavy burden. “Others just make the mistake of going home. They wake up not knowing what they are, and what they aren’t anymore…they don’t know why they woke up in graves, or why they’re walking around when they might remember dyin’…all they know is what the human memories tell them. And often all they want is a brief taste of what’s familiar. So, they go to what they remember as home…and for those fledglings that don’t feed before they seek out their family, they find out first hand how little control they have over their bloodlust in the worst way.”

Buffy shivered at the thought, but remained silent.

“But me…” He shook his head. “I did worse.”

Spike paused for a long moment. Buffy wasn’t entirely sure if he would go on at all. She stroked the back of his hand gently, trying to let him know that he had her support if he wanted to continue his story.

“My family was…well off. We never really had to struggle…I was educated, and didn’t really have any obligations. But I chose to take care of her. I didn’t ever want to leave her alone…but I didn’t have much longer to worry over it. About a year before I was turned, she became ill. Her health was failing her…and for months I watched my mother waste away. She was dying.”

Remembering her own mother’s illness, Buffy looked up at him in sympathy. She kept her silence, but gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“After I was turned…” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t realize what I was…I mean, yeah, figured the vampire part…creature of the night, and all that…” He shook his head. “But beyond that, I had no idea. It never occurred to me that the man I had been never would’ve killed anyone. He never would have raised his soddin’ hand to anyone. I didn’t…” He composed himself as well as he could. “ I didn’t know that the woman I went home to see wasn’t MY mother…and that I wasn’t her son anymore…” His voice was choked for a moment. “All that I knew was…I felt better than I ever did. I was stronger, faster, and was told I was going to live forever. I didn’t think that it was a demon making me that way…I just thought I had found a cure.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, and she stared up at Spike with dawning horror. Her hand squeezed his harder as she realized where his pain came from. “You turned her…”

Spike avoided her gaze like the plague. “I didn’t know…” he whispered as a silent plea. “Until it was too late…until I had made her into something horrible, something she

would have bloody well despised. That’s how I found out what I really was…when I saw another demon staring out at me through my mother’s eyes.”

Rising to her knees, Buffy wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, so that his head rested against her breast. Her fingers caressed his soft white-blonde hair. His arms wrapped around her waist, and a great tension left his body.

“You didn’t know any better.” Buffy reassured him, placing a gentle kiss on his temple.

“I killed her,” he said softly. “I did worse than kill her. A turned a gentle, loving woman into a monster. Then I turned her to dust.”



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His soft lips were bringing her heavenly delight. He peppered her face and neck tenderly. His hands were caressing her lovingly. Spike was bringing her towards completion without even removing a stitch of his own clothing.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail was still playing on the television, and a character’s announcement of ‘I fart in your general direction!’ was threatening to ruin the mood.

Buffy groaned and broke away from the kiss. She glared towards the television. “This stuff isn’t funny at all.”

“Oi!” Spike protested. “You have no taste in comedy.”

Rolling her eyes, she got up from the couch and walked over to the television. She turned off the VCR and the TV. She turned to peer at the pouting vampire and stuck her tongue out at him.

He snorted. “You’re just still brassed off about the diary thing.”

A wicked glint that made Spike nervous graced her features. “Oh, the diary? Now why would I still care about that? Especially when I know a dirty little secret of yours…”

Spike arched a brow as he watched her walk naked into the kitchen. “’Dirty little secret’?” He was hoping that she wasn’t referring to the turning of his mother that way.

His eyes widened when the Slayer ran back into the living room, leaping up into the air and onto the couch, straddling his waist. She held something behind her back before pulling it out so he got a good look…at a book of poetry. It was one of the books he had thumbed through at the mall. His eyes widened comically.

“Yep. A dirty little secret you’ve been keeping from everybody.”

“I um…” He swallowed nervously. “How…?”

“Spike…do me a favor, will you?”

He looked up at her with wide eyes, fearful that she might turn to mocking him.

A slow smile spread across her face. She found his nervous expression adorable. “Read me some of your favorites some time?”

Spike stared at her, tilting his head to the side. He wasn’t sure what he had heard…but when her words sank in, the smile that spread across his face outshone hers.

***********************************************************************

The robe was comfy. It wasn’t as comfy as arms of Spike, but it would have to do until he was finished cooking for her.

Spike had insisted on making things perfect, which meant she couldn’t do a bit of the work. So, instead, she wandered out to the front porch. Sitting on the porch steps in only her robe was liberating. She felt free, and she felt alive. She felt light as a feather, and giddy about stepping back inside to continue her evening with her lover. He had mentioned something about going back out to town later.

The sky was red. The sun was setting; the yellow and orange had already faded, leaving mostly red to stretch across the sky alone. It was sunset. It was the end of a day.

Then the thought hit her like a train, steam rolling her under despair and an overwhelming feeling of panic.

The sun was setting on the sixth day. Spike would only see one more day after the one that was ending as she watched.

An unexpected sob escaped her trembling lips. Her body was shaking as she watched the last of the red leave the sky, replaced by purple, and then darkness. The sixth day was gone; their week was almost up. It felt like Spike was on death row, and the two of them were just watching the minutes tick by. And more than anything, Buffy wanted to fight. She wanted an appeal, to go up to the jury and plead, to beat the judge into submission…

“What’s wrong, luv?”

She had the strangest desire to laugh. She should have known that he would be drawn to her in her sorrow. It didn’t take long for his footsteps to draw closer, or for his solid, comforting arms to wrap around her.

“Buffy?”

“Can we just…” Buffy sniffled and rested her head back against his chest. “Can we just stay in the house until…from now on?”

“’Course, pet.” He kissed the top of her head gently, then scooped her up to cradle her in his arms before carrying her back into the house.