A/N: Many thanks to LadyForAsh, for betaing
Thoughts are in ‘single quotes’
schmoop warning
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Chapter 5 – Nice Kitty

Out in the yard, with Wood out of the way, Spike relaxed his guard and started pacing back and forth. Throwing his arms in the air, he groused, “Am I going to have to fight every man in your life for you?”

Buffy laughed, “Well, maybe except for Andrew. The way he was looking at you tonight, I think I may have to fight him for you.”

Spike snorted, and good humor restored, grabbed her and covered her lips with his own. Thrusting inside her mouth, he began purring as her eager tongue met his.

“Hmm, nice kitty, verry nice,” Buffy teased, petting his hair.

Spike’s purrs turned into rumbles, “Watch it, missy,” he growled, his voice deepening and his eyes darkening. He nipped at her throat playfully. “Or this kitty may just take a bite out of you.”

Buffy shrieked, tore off indoors and ran up the stairs laughing, with Spike chasing close behind.

Closing Buffy’s bedroom door by slamming her and himself against it, Spike vamped, and licked her neck with his raspy tongue. His body pressing against hers from head to toe, he murmured, “Want you so much, baby.” Alternately teasing her jugular with tiny scrapes of his fangs, and then sucking the blood to the surface, he formed small love bites up the line of her neck. Buffy shuddered heavily, arousal spreading through her from neck to core, and her head fell to the side, giving him easy access. “Have to be quiet,” she panted, “too many people around to let go…”

“We can do quiet,” he said, and swinging her up in his arms, laid her gently on the bed. Every time her moans threatened to get too loud, he covered her lips with his own, unconsciously nicking them with his incisors. He gloried in the taste of powerful Slayer blood, and in his excitement, accidentally sliced his own lips.

The tang of Spike’s blood hit Buffy’s taste buds, and suddenly both their lives flashed between them. Lovemaking was forgotten as they each saw the heart and soul of the other, their feelings for each other, their dedication to the welfare of humanity, and the routes they had taken to get there.

Buffy saw for the first time Spike’s entire journey, from a good, mild mannered and timid man, to an unruly, defiant fledgling tortured and betrayed by his vampire family. In horror, she felt everything Spike had gone through during his early years, understanding for the first time Spike’s antipathy towards Angel. She saw his devotion to Drusilla, and how he had taken care of her through the years. Buffy also felt his heart break when Drusilla returned to Angelus. She was with Spike as his eyes started veering towards herself, though it would be a long time before he realized his heart had turned away from his sire.

She looked down through decades of violence and mayhem as a feared and deadly Master Vampire with a yen for Slayers that nevertheless had a secret kernel of kindness inside him. She saw him captured by a secret government agency, endured the agony of his torture, being chipped, and escaped only to starve with him as he discovered he could no longer feed.

Spike never gave up, though, and he stayed alive, unlike most vampires. Instead he had turned to his favorite nemesis, the Slayer, for help, and Buffy felt shame at their treatment of him. She saw that they had been all too gleeful over Spike’s downfall, cruel even. It wasn’t a pretty picture of the supposedly righteous Slayer and her Slayerette pals.

She felt his transformation from a beautiful monster that gloried in killing Slayers, to one that not only didn’t want her dead, he switched sides in the demon world to actively fight for her safety. Ultimately he fell in love with her. He had become a chipped lovesick vampire that wore his heart on his sleeve. He was drowning in her.

She felt his despair as he realized the hopelessness of loving a Slayer. He knew Buffy would never love him back. She felt only hatred and disgust for him, but he would not leave her. His feelings were tender, though, and when she or her friends hurt him, he lashed back. Afterwards he’d feel even worse, but he stayed. Whether she knew it or not, whether she’d ever accept it or not, she was his. Her family became his family. The Slayer was his to kill…or not. His to keep safe…His to help in any way she’d let him. No other beasty would ever touch her, or they’d answer to him.

Buffy felt first hand his grief and despair when she had dived off the tower, and realized that only his promise to her to keep Dawn safe had prevented him from walking into the sun. She shared his later joy at her return to life, and his simultaneous rage with the Scoobies for messing with magic and bringing her back, for pulling her out of Heaven.

Buffy lived his joy when she first shagged him, and then his desolation the next morning when she knocked him back down. She suffered with him his pain at her treatment of him, but felt the determination to give her what she needed, what she deserved, that kept him with her.

She saw his side of it when he attacked her, how at first in his mind it was just their usual foreplay, with her acting “the reluctant”. Then it turned into their brutal game, his turn this time, for all the times she had attacked him. She watched his actions become desperation to make her admit that she loved him, and she felt the demon’s horror when he finally realized that he had hurt her, had harmed the woman he loved, the girl he had promised he’d never hurt.

She was with him on his flight to Africa in search of a legend and his fight for his soul. She fought the battles with him, experienced the pain, the burns, the feelings of revulsion as insects crawled over and throughout him, and his agony as his soul returned.

She felt his soul’s horror and guilt as he realized what the demon had done with his body. With a shock Buffy realized that Spike’s kills continued to torment him. He’d told her, but she hadn’t understood the reality of it. ‘How do he and Angel live with it?’ she wondered.

Buffy experienced Spike’s return to Sunnydale, and how The First had tormented and manipulated him, driving him crazy, appearing to him as herself, Drusilla, Spike himself, and others. She felt the trigger for mayhem being created, saw how The First activated it, witnessed his new kills, and lived its de-triggering through Wood’s assassination attempt.

She grieved with Spike over dusting his mother, and observed him sparing Wood’s life after he had tried to kill Spike. She saw the great dark warrior that had given up everything for her, that won his soul for her, damning himself to an eternity of guilt over those he’d killed. He even went so far as to mate with her, thereby to knowingly make her calling, “Warrior of the Light,” his calling.

Spike saw Buffy as a sad, confused child; sure that her parents’ unhappy marriage was in some way her fault. Her parents had fought about her frequently, each blaming the other for her problems and misbehavior. She had worried that somehow, she had caused her father to leave, because she wasn’t a good enough girl. She got in trouble and into fights, skipped class and burned down schools. She was crazy enough to think that she saw vampires, and was the “Chosen One” whose destiny was to kill them. He felt her devastation when her father left them. He was the first man in her life, the first to leave her, the first of every man in her life to leave her, until Spike.

He experienced her all encompassing wonder and joy in first love with Angel, and how Angelus had wounded her heart when he hadn’t loved her without a soul. He watched in sorrow as her innocent, youthful radiance was extinguished, leaving a saddened woman behind. He saw how it broke her when she had to kill the newly resouled Angel to save the world, and felt the additional damage to her spirit when Angel left her for good. He lived with her building walls around her heart, learning to live alone even while surrounded by friends and family.

He ached with how she had longed to be normal, had tried to have a normal life with an ordinary man, and how she despaired when she had finally accepted that a normal life, and a normal man, was not to be hers.

He felt her attraction to himself over the years, and watched her unconscious and conscious suppression of it. It wasn’t proper, wasn’t right, and yet he felt how every time Spike turned up in town, she was secretly glad to see him, feeling exhilarated, at the top of her form; challenged like never before. He watched as she impulsively let him get away when she pulled the ring of invincibility off his finger, and felt her subsequent guilt, knowing that he’d be killing more people. He witnessed Buffy berating herself for putting Spike’s added spice to her life ahead of the safety of others, and felt her harden herself against him for the next time she saw him.

He wept again to see her sacrifice her life to save her sister and the world, and shed tears for them both as the resurrected Buffy reinforced the walls around her heart to protect herself from being hurt again, thereby causing them each more pain. He felt first hand her feelings of flatness, of still being dead, even though alive again, and how the times when she was with him were the only times she felt anything at all.

He saw her try to recapture feeling through kissing him, shagging him, beating him, and her frustration that he would no longer hit her back. He saw how she felt that she was vile, that she must have come back wrong because she hated life, and would beat on him, trying to provoke him into doing the same to her. He felt all her fears and insecurities through the years, how she let her fear of rejection by her family and friends influence her behavior towards Spike, finally convincing herself she could only live by being strong and leaving him.

He suffered her jealousy at seeing him bring a date to Xander’s almost-wedding, and her pain when she saw him with Anya, even though she had told him to move on. He lived first hand her confusion, disbelief, and finally her horror and rage at his attack. He saw her bring Dawn to him for protection afterwards, and her desolation when she realized he was gone. He felt her discomfort and pity when he came back seemingly crazy, her bewilderment and fear that he had sought out his soul on his own, and on top of that, he had done it for her. He sensed her worry for his new soul, and that she had felt she must protect it from herself.

Finally, he felt her joy in loving him. He witnessed her blossom from an emotionally traumatized, hardened and exhausted warrior, into a glorious Champion of the Light that would defeat The First Evil’s plans in her time. There was no stopping her now.

They lay on the bed staring in astonishment at each other, exhausted by the emotional overload. Nothing would ever be the same again, for now, they truly knew each other.

Buffy got up and led Spike over to the mirror. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked dazedly into each other’s eyes. Rocking her gently from side to side, Spike studied their entwined reflections. He’d almost forgotten what he looked like. It was good to see himself again. The Slayer fit his body perfectly, was the ideal size for him, but more that that, she fit him perfectly. Their strengths and weaknesses complemented each other, and he loved her flaws as well as her virtues. She was his true mate in every way.

Leaning back into the comfort of his arms, Buffy gazed in wonder at the mirror. She wasn’t alone; she could see him wrapped around her. They looked good together. But not only could she see him, she could see into him. She finally understood him, and realized that here was a warrior whose heart was so valiant, that he could change not only his own destiny, he could change the world.

Skin tingling with newfound sensitivity, Buffy’s thoughts turned from the sublime to the sensual. She felt the rigid length of him pressed against her backside. In the past, when he had done that, she’d been aware of only a hard ridge, now it was defined. She could feel it pulsing, could even tell where the bell shaped head was. ‘How is it that it pulses, when he doesn’t have a pulse?’ She thought irrelevantly. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, and his face shifting again, he slid his fangs into her throat from behind. An explosion of heat burst within her, and teeth bared, Buffy frantically jerked her head further to the side, straining for his neck.

Chuckling, Spike slipped his teeth from her neck, and licked the tiny wounds. Letting go of her, and touching his tongue sensuously to his upper lip, he crooned, “Why, Goldilocks, what big teeth, you have…all the better to bite me with.” He backed over to the bed, beckoning to her with his hands and taunting her with a fanged grin. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty! Nice Pussy.”

Buffy growled and dived for him, shoved him down onto his back and jumped on top. Spike laughed with delight as her teeth tore into his throat, and they took up where Vampire/Slayer visions had previously interrupted them.

Later, lying sated in each other’s arms, they compared how the blood images had differed this time around. “Did you know our lives would flash before our eyes like that the first time, Spike? You didn’t warn me when I asked you before we mated.”

“No, pet. Knew we’d feel something…you always get a sense of the other when you drink someone, like you did with that effing Drac. I didn’t know the visions would rock the world after we mated. Rather personal, it was, I won’t be telling anyone else about it. Imagine that’s how it is with everyone.” He lazily trailed his hands over her. This time, instead of experiencing each other’s whole lives, they’d simply drowned in each other’s lust, overwhelming feelings of love, and the luscious taste of ‘mate’.

“Some day I’ll off that craven bugger for trying to steal my woman,” Spike frowned, remembering how Dracula had come to town and made a play for Buffy.

Arching into his wandering hands, she murmured, hoping to distract him, “Oh, leave Dracula alone, Billy boy, you got the girl in the end. He’s not worth going after.”

Spike’s caresses turned to tickles as he protested being called Billy boy. “Where do you get off with such a poofy name, Buffy wuffy?” He retaliated.

She laughed, wriggling away from his tormenting fingers. “O.K., O.K., no Billy boy. But I had to think of something that Drusilla didn’t used to call you. I actually like ‘Will’, just don’t want to bring her to mind every time I say it.”

Spike cupped her face with his hand and smiled tenderly at her, touched that she wanted to have a nickname for him. For so long she’d been hard, ever since Angel had hurt her. It was a wonder to see her softening again. “Will’s fine, love. It doesn’t remind me of her. My heart and mind are filled with you.”

Then he proved that his tenacity hadn’t been lost in the mating by returning to his previous grievance. “The bat boy was aware I’d staked my claim on you when he tried to elbow his way in, Buffy. He knew he was taking his unlife into his hands. Let him get his own Slayer. Stay away from mine if he values his neck. We know each other from way back. Drac knew you were mine or I wouldn’t have been in town.”

Buffy hackles rose and she scowled fiercely at him. “I wasn’t yours then, Spike!” If anyone’s, I was Riley’s. And I resent you saying I belong to anyone, I belong to myself!”

He soothed her with caresses and soft kisses over her body, whispering, “Yes Slayer, you belong to yourself. But you are also mine, just as I am yours. I may not have been yours back then, but in my heart you were mine, and gypsy boy knew it.”

Looking stubborn, she asked challengingly, “So why didn’t you dust him back then?”

“When I realized he’d bitten you, I went looking for him; but he’d already left town. Between the two of us, he knew he was in trouble, and you were my first priority. Until I had you secured, I couldn’t be bothered with chasing him around the world to hunt ‘im down. Besides, you handled him beautifully. I knew even at that time, that you didn’t appreciate it when I stepped in and tried to save you. Independent little puss, you are. Want to save yourself.

She wrinkled her nose at Spike impudently over his independent little puss remark, then cocked an eyebrow and pursed her lips with a look suggestive of him. “Until you had me secured? That’s cold.”

With a smoldering look he cupped her breast and breathed into her neck, “There was nothing cold about it, pet. I was burning for you.” While kneading gently with his hand, Spike touched his tongue to her neck at the juncture of her shoulder, and traced her jugular line up to his mark, sucking there as she arched into him.

Hackles calmed, she moved languidly beneath him, but continued to look vaguely disgruntled, and he capitulated, knowing instinctively what she was really objecting to. “Fine, pet. I won’t go after him; but if he ever shows his face around here again, you can bet we’ll have words.”

Buffy smiled, relieved at having averted another fight, and ran her fingertips down his chest and back up, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and whispering against his lips, “Actually, you were mine back then. I just wasn’t admitting how much yet. I knew that you were mine to slay, or not; no one else’s.” She saddened, looking deep into his blue eyes, “You always had more insight into both our feelings than I did.”

He kissed her softly and tucked her head into his shoulder, folding his arms around her comfortingly. “You’ve caught up with me, sweetheart.”

Drowsily, Buffy nodded, feeling relief that she would no longer be the clueless wonder about her feelings. Then, thinking back over the shocker of life visions they’d shared that evening, she was also glad that she wouldn’t have to wade through their pasts every time they got fangy. She had a feeling that would happen rather often. She remembered biting him several times in last year’s frenzy, but never hard enough to draw blood, and she hadn’t let him bite her. ‘Who knew fangs were so erotic, anyway? No wonder vamps have such an oral fixation.’

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted slowly into sleep, letting go of the world and its problems for a few hours.

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Upon hearing Buffy’s door slam closed, Xander turned away from the phone in the master bedroom. Angel’s friend and co-worker, Fred, had told him that Angel wasn’t in Los Angeles. He and Wesley were in Rome following a lead on the reemergence of The First and the upcoming apocalypse. At least they had been last night. Wes had called in to report that out of nowhere, Angel’s head had jerked up, a look of shock on his face. He’d vamped out and roared, “He’s dust,” and had run off, leaving Wesley clueless as to what was going on. He’d taken with him a powerful, potentially dangerous artifact. Wes had called Fred to see if she’d heard from Angel. She hadn’t. On consideration of Xander’s news, she figured that Angel would be showing up in Sunnydale at any time.

Tbc…


Additional A/N: I’m sorry for the delay in posting this chap after telling several people it was coming last week. A gatecrasher, Buffy fangs, tried to force its way into the story. I finally satisfied the interloper by promising it that I’d write a fang story later. J