Chapter Seven
When the knock came at the door, Buffy ran down the stairs to answer it, not realizing that she was still clutching the stake. Even though she already knew who was there, (super Slayer sense, and all that) she still looked surprised when she pulled it open. Maybe it was the ratty dog sitting by his feet on the porch. Or maybe it was the duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Ignoring the stab of alarm THAT brought on, she looked at him.
“Who’s your friend?” She asked, glancing down at the dog. Spike followed her gaze, a ghost of a smile curving his lips.
“Sid. Say hello.” he told him, and Sid complied with a bark and a thump of his tale. Buffy found herself charmed immediately. The thought of Spike with a dog, even a dog named after a Sex Pistol, was very sweet. When Spike looked back up at her, the smile was gone.
“Buffy, we need to talk.” He told her, pulling her attention back to his chiseled features. She looked into the blue fire of his eyes for a moment, then kissed her bubble bath and bed goodnight. *Will this night EVER end?* she thought, stepping aside to let him in.
“He can come in.” she said, when Spike told Sid to stay. The blonde looked doubtful.
“He’s awful dirty, luv.”
“I still let you in, don’t I?” she teased. That garnered her a glare from the vampire, but he snapped his fingers and the dog happily crossed the threshold.
Spike followed Buffy into the living room, noticing the stake for the first time when she threw it on the coffee table. His scarred brow shot up, but since she wasn’t lunging at him, he didn’t say anything about it. Buffy sat down on the couch, her eyes searching his face. He had something on his mind, and she tell it was more than what happened at the Magic Box.
Buffy thought about that for a second, while she waited for him to speak. When did she start being able to read him so well? Just when did his facial expressions and body language become as familiar as her own? Hell, she could almost tell what he was going to say before he said it. Could that website be right? Was it more natural than not for a Slayer to be mated with a vampire? *More questions, no answers* she thought, feeling her left temple start to throb with a tension headache.
“What is it, Spike?” she asked when the silence stretched between them. “It’s more than what happened earlier, isn’t it?” A sharp nod from him indicated she was right, and he started to reach for his cigarettes. Just as his fingers brushed across them, he remembered her ‘no smoking’ rule. He settled for running his hand over Sid’s scarred head, instead.
“I found another body.” Okay, she hadn’t been prepared for that. Her skin blanched to a sickly white, and her voice, when she finally found it, shook.
“Where?”
“Behind my crypt.” Her eyes widened, and her fingers clutched tightly in her lap. No wonder he had the bag, she thought numbly. Couldn’t stay there with the police poking around.
“What. . .” She took a deep, calming breath, before continuing. “What was done to her?”
“Buf. . .”
“Tell. Me.” He did, quickly, all the while watching her face turn from that awful white to an even more terrible green. When he was done, she was off the couch and sprinting to the downstairs bathroom. Spike finally moved to a chair, suddenly feeling very weary. He rested his temple against his fist, and waited for the Slayer to return. His eyes roamed over the book on the coffee table to settle on the bringer of death to his kind. Leaning forward, he picked it up, noticing the lettering almost immediately. His jaw dropped open when he saw his name written across it. He looked up at Buffy when she returned, holding a wet washcloth against her mouth.
“Pet, why do you have a stake with my name on it?” he asked, holding up the offending piece of wood.
“What do you mean? You left it.” she said, sinking back down onto the couch. “And it was an awfully. . .sick. . .joke.” She slowed when she saw the look of utter confusion on his face. “You didn’t leave it?” she asked, her stomach threatening to spill all over again.
“WHY would I do that?” he replied, dropping the stake back onto the table. Buffy looked at it in horror, as it rolled towards her. Suddenly, it seemed as dangerous as a pissed off rattle snake.
“Well, I always told you that I had a stake with your name on it, I just thought. . .” she trailed off, her voice getting smaller with each word, until she was whispering.
“Where did you find it?” He asked, standing again. If his theory was right, and he had a sick feeling it was, this was not some gag gift.
“My room.” In a shot, he was up the stairs. As soon as he entered the room, the smell hit him. It permeated the room, touching everything inside. Cursing, he stalked over to the open window, sticking his head out and listening. Hearing nothing, he pulled himself back in and slammed down the sash, turning the lock with a violent twist. Taking one last look around the room, he saw the slowly wilting rose on her dresser, and the teddy bear sitting jauntily next to it. Shaking his head, Spike went back down stairs. Buffy was still sitting on the couch, looking at the stake as if it might bite her.
“It’s me, isn’t it.” Her words were soft, so soft, that Spike’s enhanced hearing had trouble picking it up.
“What’s that, luv.” he asked her, moving in to sit next to her on the couch. Sid immediately plopped down next to him on the floor.
“He’s killing ME, isn’t he?” Her wide, hazel eyes met his, fear writhing in their depths.
“It’s a little to much to be coincidence.” he agreed, scowling at the tears in her eyes. Fear had a tight hold on his stomach as well. They had faced some pretty nasty things together over the past few months, Glory not the least of them. But this, something you couldn’t see, with no rhyme or reason behind it. This was truly what terror felt like.
“The stakes, the garlic. A cross. There all blonde and small. Oh god. Why didn’t I see it before?” She asked nobody in particular. Her eyes widened even more when they fell on the book and the stake. “Oh God. Spikes.”
“What?”
“You said that girl was impaled with spikes.” she waited for him to nod before snatching the book off the table. Opening it to the middle, she showed him the neat hole through the center. His brows drew together, as he looked at her. “I found this book on the table at the Magic Box. With a spike stuck through the middle. I didn’t go looking for this book, it was left for me. Then, I get the little present. And that girl. . .behind your crypt.” Tears flowed free down her cheeks as the dots started to connect. “Her eyes. . . See no Evil.” If Spike had a heartbeat, it would have skipped when she echoed his thoughts from earlier. That girls eyes had been torn out because that nutter thought that Buffy couldn’t see Spike for what he really was. “He’s been here, in my house, killing all those poor girls because they look like me. And, he wants me to kill you.” Buffy broke down completely then, her shoulders shaking with each rattling sob that convulsed through her. Instinctively, Spike reached out and pulled her into his lap. Buffy buried her face in his chest, her fingers curling tightly around the lapels of his leather duster.
Spike lost track of time as he held her. But, eventually, her sobbing softened into whimpers, which eventually dwindled into sniffles. He continued to hold her, simply enjoying the feel of her tiny, warm body cradled against him. After the way they had parted that afternoon, he had been pretty sure he’d never get this close to her again. He still wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t kick his ass the second she came back to her senses.
“Spike.” she hiccupped, her voice muffled against the hardness of his chest.
“Yeah, luv?” He looked down at the top of her head, angling his head to hear her better.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She shifted in his arms, until she could see his face.
“About earlier. You were right. Angel was worse than you ever were. And, I believe that you love me.” Shock flashed briefly through his eyes, but, he didn’t interrupt. “I wanted you to know that I do ‘see’ you.” It took a minute, but realization finally washed over Spike, and it hit him hard.
“What are you saying, Buffy.” His accented voice was thick as he looked at her, not really believing the emotions he saw swirling in her eyes.
“I’m saying, you’ve got your crumb.” His arms tightened fractionally around her, and he looked at her like he had never seen her before.
“W. . .Why?” he finally managed, and she let out a sound that was caught between a sniffle and a giggle. She started shifting again, finally settling straddled across his lap. Her hands cupped his face and her hazel eyes burned into his. He laid his hands on her thighs, returning her gaze with a guarded look. She smiled a bit at his expression.
“Because, I DO see you. You were right earlier, changing because you want to, whatever the reason, is better than changing because of a curse.” her words washed over him, cleansing him. He stared at her, transfixed by the softness of her eyes, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Afraid that this was all a dream. “I already know I want you. I’m willing to see if I can love you.” She finished, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip. The look of awe and wonderment that crossed his features nearly broke her heart. All thoughts of girls killed in her image, and serial killers invading her home fled her mind. She couldn’t think of that now, not when she was feeling so safe and secure sitting on his lap, the love emanating from those cerulean eyes wrapping her in a blanket of contentment. With a sigh, she leaned towards him, pressing herself ever closer to his lean body. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and his hands gripped almost painfully on her thighs when she brushed her mouth across his.
Her fingers slipped into the silky tresses of his platinum hair, marveling at the softness as she kissed him again. He quickly got over his shock and kissed her back. Several small, wet, open mouth kisses followed as they tasted each other. His lips were cool against hers, stoking and soothing the fires that had begun to build just from the gentle kisses. So different from any kiss she’d had before. Angel’s had been tender and passionate, but there was always that feeling that he was holding back. Especially after he lost his soul. Parker, never mind. Riley, her only human boyfriend, had been too hot, she decided now, as Spikes coolness seeped into her, sending shivers across her skin.
Spike’s hands slid up her thighs, to splay across the bare skin of her back, just under the sports bra she was still wearing. He pulled her more firmly against him, allowing her to feel what she was doing to him as his expert mouth continued to almost sip from hers like she was a fine wine. His tongue darted out to taste her lip, the saltiness of her tears still lingering there. She moaned when he did this, her own tongue searching for his. But he evaded her, not yet ready to give up his exploration. His teeth gently nipped against the soft swell of flesh, his tongue dipping inside to taste, to tease. She whimpered in frustration when he refused to deepen the kiss yet again, the fell of him pressed intimately against her in all the right places nearly doing her in. She shifted her hips a bit in his lap, grinding her heat against his hard length. She used the opportunity his startled gasp provided to plunge her tongue into his mouth. His chest rumbled with his growl as her tongue darted into battle his, then retreated to only come back and slide sensually over it.
He tasted like cigarettes, and beer, with a slight copperiness of blood. Taste of Spike, her mind thought giddily, as she greedily dove in for more. There was an almost wild flavor to him, something so purely male that it made her dizzy. Her hips were writhing in time with her tongues movements in his mouth, her breasts crushed deliciously against his chest. Her fingers scratched lightly against scalp, pleased when his own moans echoed in her ears. Buffy struggled to breathe as she attacked his mouth, loathe to let him go for even something as essential as air.
Spike hands were sliding across her back, causing gooseflesh to break out across her skin. He thrust his hips up into her, seeking the wet heat that teased him through their combined clothing. He rubbed his erection across her slit, eliciting a groan from her when he hit her sensitive bundle of nerves.
MORE, both their minds screamed in unison, and Spike quickly changed their positions on the couch, laying her back so he could settle his length on top of her. They never broke the kiss, not until he pulled away to shrug out of duster and t-shirt. Her hands reached for him, pulling him back to her as soon as the black material cleared his head. Her hands were all over his back and chest, running her nails across alabaster skin, lightly scraping his flat nipples. Another growl followed this, and she did it again. Spike was not idle as her hands worshiped his chest. His own fingers trailed along her stomach, pushing the bra away to palm the heaving mound of her breast. She hissed through her teeth and arched into him, her nipple puckering under his touch. He watched as her eyes clouded even further, before dipping his head to taste the hard nubbin. His tongue trailed wet circles around it, lightly flicking across it before he gave into her urging to take her fully into his mouth. A hand clutched in his hair, holding him against her, as her hips thrust up again, begging for the release she felt just hovering out of reach. The feel of his wet, cool mouth on her skin, his teeth grazing her nipple had her almost screaming.
They were so lost in the taste and feel of each other, that neither noticed Sid’s actions on the floor. He had been resting his head on his paws, oblivious to the sexual encounter going on above him. However, something caught his attention, and he raised his head, ears perked as he listened. A low whine that went unnoticed by the human and the vampire filled the air. It wasn’t until Sid took off up the stairs, his barks reverberating through the house that the two on the couch tore apart, startled. In a shot, Spike was after him, Buffy close behind him, to find the dog in her room. He was hunched low, his ears plastered against his head as he stared at the closed window. His entire body was tensed for attack, his teeth bared as he snapped and snarled at some unseen thing outside the glass.
“Spike.” Buffy called when he went over to the window. He glanced back at her, but unlocked it and opened it again. Sid had moved behind him, waiting for his vampire to tell him to attack. Spike took a second to marvel at how well the dog had been trained, and how he had so easily transferred it all to Spike.
Feeling out with his senses, before hazarding to stick his head outside again, he morphed into game face to see more clearly. Nothing. He didn’t see or feel anything. But he didn’t doubt the dog. He glanced around the yard, noticing that dawn was fast approaching, before pulling back into the room. Closing and locking it once more, he turned to look at the now calm Sid and a wide eyed Buffy.
“Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” He told her. She nodded, running a hand through her tangled hair.
“Good.” She whispered, sinking to the edge of he bed. Spike moved over to her, bending down to look at her.
“Pet, dawns coming. I better go find somewhere to stay.” he told her.
“You could stay here.” she said quietly. He smiled, his hand coming up to brush her knuckles against her cheek.
“Don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet. We still have a lot to suss out before we start playing house. ” He said, dropping his hand. She cocked her head to study him, her expression telling him she was about to argue. But, instead she just nodded.
“Alright.”
“I think I should leave him here.” Spike said, waving a hand towards Sid, who was still looking at the closed window.
“Yeah, please. Leave the good dog that barks at the nasties trying to come inside uninvited.” she replied, very much liking the idea. Even though the dog definitely needed a bath. She’d have to see about that later. “He’s housebroken, right?”
“Yeah. Listens well, too.” He snapped his fingers and Sid trotted over to them, panting happily when two hands reached out to ruffle his fur. “You stay here, Sid. Protect the lady.” Sid thumped his tail in response, nuzzling the hand of his vampire’s mistress. Buffy giggled at the feel of the wet, cold nose against her hand. She sobered when she looked at Spike.
“Be careful.” She told him, leaning in to brush a kiss across his mouth. His eyes drifted closed, and he rubbed his lips together, savoring the taste lingering in his lips.
“Always.” he told her, standing to leave. “I’ll meet you at the Bronze later. I don’t want you coming back here by yourself tonight. Alright?” She nodded, grimacing when she looked at the clock. At least she had the late shift at work. “You be careful, too.”
“Hey, I’m the Slayer. He hasn’t actually come after ME yet. Probably knows I could kick his ass.” She snorted. Spike smiled at that. He leaned down and kissed her again.
“I love you.” he said, then turned to leave the room.
“I know.” she said, laying down on her side. Sid lay down on floor next to her, ready to defend the lady at a moments notice. She leaned over to set her alarm, then placed her hand on the dogs head. She heard the soft click of the front door as she drifted off to sleep, her dreams invaded by conflicting images of love and death.
~*~*~
What the fuck! He thought as he ran quickly through town, cutting through back yards and alleys to reach his home. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, WHY was Spike still a walking, talking member of the undead?? And why was he in her house, AGAIN! With that fucking dog.
What the fuck was wrong with her? His crazed mind screamed. How could she let him back in, knowing what he had done? And that he was now chipless. She should have been kicking his ass and then vacuuming him up like the garbage he was. Lithely, he jumped a fence, then dug in his pockets for his keys. Letting himself inside, he slammed the door, then rested back against it. His guest jumped at the sound, her arms and legs pulling against their bonds once more. She listened as he stalked around the living room, flinching each time she heard something break. She prayed that he wouldn’t come in the room, and play back what had transpired in the room while he was gone. It would enrage him to see the shirtless and obviously disheveled vampire. Not to mention the equally disheveled Buffy. And she knew, that she would bare the punishment of the Slayers transgressions. Tears leaked anew as she listened to him storming towards the bedroom. Fear crawled around like a living thing, just under her skin.
Each time he used her, she prayed desperately, that this time, THIS TIME, he would finally kill her. She wanted to die, because she knew, if she managed to survive, that she would never be able to live again.
But she knew, he wouldn’t kill her. She was here to serve penance for all the sins of the female gender. She understood vengeance. Had a deep seeded respect for it. However, this was just sick. She had watched him do many countless things over the past weeks, things that she had been powerless to stop. She had tried to scream once, when he had taken off the tape to feed her.
That was the first time he had raped her. He’d then left her alone for two days, only paying attention to her when she couldn’t hold it anymore and had soiled herself. He’d then tsked and scolded, but cleaned her up, then left her alone again until the next time.
Humiliation, anger, fear and disgust were her constant companions now. And as she watched him enter the bedroom, his clothes being dropped in a trail behind him, she started to pray again. He crawled on the bed, shoving into her already ravaged core, forcing her to scream from behind the tape. She prayed for herself, and Buffy. Hell, she even prayed for Spike. Because, none of this would end until the man pumping into her was dead.