Her Vampire

Category: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Futurefic

Warnings: het, language, violence, bloodplay

Characters: Dawn, Spike

Pairing: Dawn/Spike

Summary: Dawn was Chosen shortly after her 18th birthday when Buffy and Faith were killed. She continues the good fight with Spike's help.

Sequel to: His Slayer, Again

Author Notes: Inspired by Brighid

Story Notes: Third in "His Slayer" series, but may be read as a stand-alone. SPOILERS: Everything through Season 6 BtVS.

Distribution: Want? Ask. Have!

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all associated characters are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, United Paramount Network, and Fox Television. This work is not for profit, and no ownership of aforementioned copyrighted material implied, nor any infringement intended.


* * *

PROLOGUE

"Spike!" Dawn called to the unconscious vampire again. He had been knocked out by the slimy gray hell-beast that now advanced on the Slayer. She turned her attention back to the demon. "You'll be sorry for that, you asshole!" Dawn threw a punch that connected solidly. The demon's head rocked from the strike. *Yay for me. He's not so tough.* Then the demon's blow knocked her to her knees.

The demon swung at Dawn again, but she was already rolling backwards in a somersault. She came up on her feet, facing it. She moved forward to attack again. Step, step, jump. Front snap kick! And another. Then, as Dawn launched a roundhouse punch at the demon, it stepped in closer to her. The demon gripped her in a bear hug as Dawn's fist sailed harmlessly past its malformed ear. Dawn tried not to panic as the thing tried to smother her against its slime-coated chest. She flailed ineffectively, and fought back a scream as the demon dragged her to the ground.

Dawn's vision was starting to gray out from lack of air when she heard a gasp from the creature, and the crushing grip loosened. Then the demon's weight was gone, and she looked up into the golden eyes of one very pissed off blonde vampire. Spike proceeded to pull his dagger out of the monster's back.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Dawn's eyes flashed. "I didn't think you were going to go all Giles, and get knocked unconscious."

Spike resisted the urge to grind his teeth. "Well, you still shouldn't've been rollin' around with it on the ground."

"Hmph." The Slayer turned and flounced off in the direction of home.

*Bloody Summers women!* Spike started of after the brunette. *She's nineteen, and can't decide whether to act thirty or thirteen.*

Dawn walked home, thoughts centered on the vampire that followed her. Her first non-manufactured memories of Spike centered on her crush on an older, unobtainable man. Those feelings had matured into respect and admiration for a soulless monster that made it his mission in life to protect her. After Buffy jumped from the tower, Spike had looked after Dawn because of his promise to the fallen Slayer. But over time that resolve had faded, and Spike looked after Dawn because of the person she had become, not because she was someone’s little sister. A strong link had been forged between the two of them. Then Buffy returned. The Slayer became intimate with Spike, eventually even returning his love, only to be taken away from him again less than a year later.

With Buffy gone forever, Spike had again made Dawn the center of his world. And as the new Slayer, Dawn needed all the help she could get. A blonde, souled, vampire that worshipped the ground she walked on had provided it. More than a year of daily life together and nightly patrolling had welded them into a superbly matched team.


* * *

Spike looked at the bathroom door. "Nibblet?"

"Go away Spike, I'm not decent."

"Can I just talk from here then?"

Dawn sank lower into the tub, trying to ignore the vampire on the other side of the door. *He can be so damned annoying sometimes!*

"Are you alright pet?"

"Yes, Spike, I'm bloody well fine." *For almost being suffocated to death. And slimed.*

"Right, then." A pause. "I'd like to talk to you downstairs when you're finished."

"Fine." The Slayer wriggled her toes in the hot water. *He can wait 'til I'm good and pruney.*


* * *

Forty minutes later a much more relaxed and waterlogged Dawn walked into the kitchen. Spike was cutting pieces out of an apple with his dagger, and eating them one at a time.

Dawn wrinkled her nose. "I hope you washed that off."

"The apple?" Spike put another slice into his mouth.

"No, the dagger you use to kill demons."

Spike smiled. "Of course, luv."

They had a give-and-take relationship. Dawn knew that no matter how much Spike yelled at her, it was because he was concerned for her safety. And she yelled back. They had arguments, they got angry, they forgave each other. Dawn was his world, and she knew it. She was the only one left Spike really cared about. He got along well enough with Xander and Willow, they weren't his reason to keep on living. That position was held by a millennia-old former Key, the oldest girl ever called to be the Slayer.

Spike continued on a different train of thought. "I was thinkin' that you might want to study fighting somewhere."

Thwas was a pause while Dawn tried to wrap her mind around what Spike had said. "But I train with you!"

"Yeah, Bit. And look where it got you tonight."

"Spike-"

"Now you punch and kick like a champ, don't get me wrong, but I was thinking more along the lines of you learning some roly-poly ground fighting."

Dawn's head was flooded with images of the time Willow had dragged her to watch an all-female mud wrestling contest. "Eew!"

Spike looked shocked. "Nothing nasty, pet. I meant that Brazilian stuff you hear about. I think it might help you out."

Dawn's hesitation was so brief it might not have existed. "Okay, Spike. I'll check it out. But if there's any pudding or oil or mud involved, I'm outtie."

"Fine, pet." Spike focused on carving his apple again. *Gonna talk to the witch and see what the hell kind of things has she been doing with Dawn.*


* * *

CHAPTER 1

The current Scoobies sat around the table in the Magic Box. Dawn looked around, surveying her family. Giles was jotting some notes down before the "official meeting" started. Willow sat with a thousand-yard stare on her face. Dawn frowned. Willow had gotten much better, but she still went "out to lunch" on a regular basis. Xander reached over and rubbed the back of Willow’s hand. A small smile spread across her face as she focused on her childhood friend. Dawn turned her attention to Spike. She saw him watching the interaction between Xander and Willow. Spike finally looked over at Dawn. She smiled when his eyes met hers.
ike ike figured they ought to get the show on the road. "So, Rupert, what's the word from the Council of Peepers?"

Giles resisted the urge to clean his glasses. "You mean, what do they think of the fact that the current Slayer is living in the same house as William the Bloody, killer of two Slayers?"

"Yeah, mate. More or less."

"Nothing of note, Spike. And it would be rather difficult for them to form an opinion on the matter, as they have yet to be notified."

Spike slouched back in his chair, and his expression darkened. "Oh, so I'm still the black sheep of the family."

"Quite the contrary, Spike. I felt that relating your attachment to Dawn would only serve to increase their scrutiny of her. Is that something you want?"

"No, Rupert. Quite right. Sorry I snapped at you."

Giles smiled. *Yes, a vampire that apologizes for being rude. What a terrible threat to the Slayer.* "Not a problem, old chap."

The meeting continued. They'd started with a regular schedule shortly after Willow got out of the hospital. Giles felt regular contact with all the group members would be good practice whether or not there was an imminent apocalypse. He hoped that it would serve to center the group after Buffy's death, and it had. The meetings had become a social event above and beyond the exchange of information. Willow often baked cookies and once, during a very slow week, Xander and Dawn had staged a sock puppet show.

The only one who refused to come was Anya. She ran the shop during the day, and donated necessary items "at cost" to the cause, but she refused to be anywhere near Xander. She made it a point of being gone by the time the Scoobies usually showed up.

After almost an hour of discussion, Spike began to get restless. "So, Watcher, nothin' makin' end of the world noises, then?"

"That's correct Spike. However, if you and Dawn could extend your patrols out into the woods once a week or so, I would appreciate it."

Spike exchanged glances with Dawn, who shrugged. "Sure, mate. Not a problem."

"If there's nothing else, then..." The end of Giles' statement was lost in the general scraping of chairs on the floor and organizing of bags and jackets. Giles smiled as he watched his children file out into the night on their way home. *What a long way we've all come. If someone had told me years ago that I'd be helping a mystically conceived Slayer, a vampire, a witch, and a carpenter protect the world I'd have laughed in his bloody face.* Giles shut off the lights and stepped outside to lock the door. *And now, I can't imagine life without them.*


* * *

Spike sat on the couch, holding a small volume of demonology. He had lost his focus on the text that Giles had given him several days earlier at the meeting. *Dawn's usually home by now.* Spike looked up from his book as the object of his thoughts came in the front door. "So how was your fightin' class, bit? Was everyone rolling around like a bunch of monkeys?"

The Slayer rolled her eyes. "No, Spike. I'm doing Brazilian jiu jitsu, not Capoera. Class was okay. I mostly worked out with Bill." Dawn's first class had resulted in her choking one student unconscious and hyper-extending the arm of another. The instructor decided that she could handle herself well enough to train with the Wednesday night--mostly male--intermediate class.

The Slayer threw her leather coat on the couch and walked towards the stairs. "I'm beat, Spike. Anything we've gotta do tonight?"

"No, luv. I made a sweep while you were in class."

"Alright, Spike. See you in the morning."


* * *

Spike was out of bed and sprinting towards Dawn's room while her scream still hung in the air. He slammed the door open with such force that the doorknob punched a hole in the wall. Spike relaxed somewhat when he saw that Dawn was not in physical danger, but suffering a nightmare. He quickly crossed to her bed, and held her shoulders while he called her name. "Nibblet, wake up. Dawn!"

Dawn's breath caught and her eyes flew open. "Spike! Oh God. You saved me."

"Wasn't nothing, you were only having a nightmare."

"No. I mean before. I was dreaming about the slimy demon we fought last week. It was smothering me and you killed it."

Spike's mouth twitched towards a smile. "You'd have gotten him in another minute. No second-rate demon can keep you down."

Dawn sat up in bed and leaned to hug Spike. As the covers slid down he noticed that she wore one of his old black t-shirts to sleep in, and apparently nothing else. He tensed for a fraction of a second, then relaxed as the Slayer's arms wrapped around him. He returned the hug, but was distracted by the feeling of her nipples poking him through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Bite-size?"

"Could you, ya know, sleep in here tonight?"

Spike's mind quit functioning. "Well, er, you see, that is..."

"Spike, we're both adults, and-"

Spike was up and off the bed as fast as his vampiric speed would allow. "I'll see you in the morning, Dawn!" He was out of the room before she could blink.

Dawn thought of calling him a coward, but she figured it would do more harm than good. The Slayer sat there angry and frustrated. She was a healthy young woman with needs. And she loved Spike. She knew he loved her as well, but figured that he couldn't handle the thought of her like that because of Buffy.

Dawn lay back down. *What would he be like in bed?* The thought had crossed her mind more than once over the last year. Her hand traced circles through the t-shirt over her stomach. *Would he be very slow and gentle?* Her hand moved lower down her stomach. Her fingertips traced the edge of her panties. *How would Spike’s hand feel?* Dawn felt herself getting wet at the thought of him. She slid her fingers under the elastic and traced the outer ridge of her lips. *Oh. Spike.* Slowly but firmly Dawn slid a finger into herself. Wetness coated her finger, and she pumped it in and out with determination. After a few minutes she pulled out, then tweaked her fingertip across her clit. *Oh God, Spike.* "Oh." Faster and faster she rubbed herself until she felt the edge approach. "Spike!"

Not very far away, in Joyce's old room, a very wide-awake vampire lay in bed with a raging erection. He stared at the ceiling as the sound of Dawn's orgasm reached his ears. *That chit will be the death of me yet!*


* * *

Spike stood in a sunlight field. He cringed, and started to run for the shade of the trees dozens of yards away. He would never make it...but he wasn't burning. *What the blazes?*

Some distance off a blanket was spread, covered with a picnic fit for a king. And at the edge of the blanket sat a blonde goddess.

"Buffy!"

"Hello, William."

"Where the bloody hell are we?"

"Not quite. Can't you guess?"

"Not..." He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Buffy smirked at him. "Not quite. But did you think that hanging around with Slayers and working for Team Good Guys wouldn't have some effect?"

"A Slayer dream?"

"Yeah, sort of. Course, you're not a Slayer, but the PTB were willing to make allowances on behalf of my valuable services, yadda yadda. Sandwich?" She held out a hoagie filled with very rare roast beef and cheddar.

"No thank you. But why the dream?"

"I needed to tell you something." Buffy's tone was serious.

Spike became agitated. "If it's about Dawn, look. It ain't-"

"It is." Buffy smiled at his horrified expression. "But it's okay. Relax. I lived, and you loved me. I died, and you mourned me. But get over it. I'm in a better place. And what I want now is for you and my sister to be happy. Whatever it takes. A Slayer once told me 'Love, give, forgive.' I'm telling you, 'live and be happy.'"

A voice floated from somewhere beyond the edge of the meadow. "Buffy?"

Spike's jaw dropped. "Is that..."

"Of course, silly." Buffy turned and called over her shoulder "Be there in a minute, Mom!" She looked at Spike again. "I've gotta go."

"Buffy wait! Tell Joyce...tell mum I miss her."

"Yes, William."

Spike looked uncomfortable for a second. He looked at his feet, not daring to meet her eyes while he asked the next question. "And the other bird?"

Buffy laughed. "Faith? Yeah, she's in heaven, too. She's fine. We're fine." She paused and looked at him pointedly. "I want you to be fine."

"I love you Buffy."

"I know. I love you too. Now go take care of the Slayer."


* * *