New beginnings

Chapter 6

Floating between sleeping and waking Spike became aware of Buffy’s voice. She was lying beside him, her warmth comforting as he spooned against her back with his nose buried in her sweet scented hair and his arms wrapped securely around her. She was speaking very quietly and he really couldn’t be bothered to wake up fully and concentrate on what she was saying so he just allowed her gentle tones to wash over him and soothe him back to sleep.

When next Spike woke his arms were empty. For a few seconds he felt an intense sense of loss before he heard a quiet humming and the sounds of his Mate moving around the room. He cracked one eye open and saw her tidying away the evening clothes they had removed so carelessly the night before. Then she bent to gather up the torn and stained clothes they had fought in and bundle them into a bag.

His gaze followed her graceful figure as she prowled around the room clearing away the evidence of their love play, cheerfully humming tunelessly under her breath and totally unconcerned for her nudity. After she moved the vase of roses onto a side table and dried the base of the bottle of champagne to place beside it she paused and stretched, her arms folding behind her head as her breasts and buttocks jutted out sensuously. A soft satisfied moan escaped her lips as she relaxed again and pushed the ravaged dessert trolley towards the door.

She disappeared into the bathroom for a couple of minutes, giving Spike the opportunity to adjust his position unnoticed, so he could see her better when she emerged. When she reappeared she once more lifted her arms above her head and stretched, this time just a few feet directly in front of him. He suppressed the needy moan that tried to slip out as taut, well-defined muscles rippled enticingly beneath her golden skin.

She stood gazing out of the glass doors for a few minutes, leaning against the doorframe and absently toying with a tendril of hair until a knock sounded at the door. She started slightly and crossed the room, and then just as she was about to open the door she gasped and stopped. She called quietly, “Just a moment!” and dodged back into the bathroom, coming back out a few seconds later wrapping a bathrobe around herself.

When she opened the door Spike heard her conversing with someone with a businesslike masculine voice, and then as the dessert trolley was rolled out of the room another similar one replaced it. A few more quiet words were exchanged and a third presence was suddenly in the room. Spike closed his eyes again and listened to the fireplace being cleared and a new fire being laid and lit. Then there was the rustle of banknotes and Buffy’s polite words of thanks, quickly followed by the sound of the door closing again.

When he reopened his eyes Spike was expecting to see Buffy’s robed figure sitting at the little table in front of the glass doors, so he was surprised to see her naked again. She sat with one foot tucked up under her pouring herself a tall glass of orange juice. After she drank it straight down she loaded up her plate. He lay and watched her eating hungrily. She began by tackling half a roast chicken with knife and fork, but after a few minutes she evidently decided this wasn’t working fast enough because she picked it up and tore into it with her teeth. Occasionally she put it down to shovel forkfuls of mashed potato, broccoli and carrots into her busy mouth.

Spike watched in amused fascination as the chicken and vegetables quickly disappeared. That was followed by a large slice of pie smothered with cream, and then Buffy attacked the fruit bowl. After a banana and an apple she refilled her juice glass and took a few sips, leant back in her chair with a sigh and sank her teeth into a peach, the juice of which escaped to trickle down her chin.

Grinning around the fruit she said, “I know you’re awake, Spike. Do you think I couldn’t feel you watching me all this time?” She pulled the second chair around beside hers and added, “Come and eat something. Discover what else you like with those new improved taste buds of yours.”

Spike blinked in surprise and chuckled as he slid out of bed. He stretched and absently scratched his belly before crossing to kiss Buffy on the top of her head and caress her shoulders as he passed around behind her and took the seat indicated. Smirking, he leant over to kiss her on her chicken and peach smeared mouth and innocently asked, “Were you hungry, darlin’?”

Buffy giggled, “Whatever gave you that idea?” She gestured at the remaining food and suggested, “Eat….” She bent to examine his wounded thigh, finding only two pale pink spots marking the place the demon’s spine had pierced his leg. She patted him tenderly and commented, “All better. Yay for combined vamp and Slayer healing!” She twisted to try and see her shoulder. “I can’t feel anything…”

Spike stroked her shoulder and leant over to kiss it then told her, “It’s all gone now, just a thin pale scar.” Returning his attention to the food on the trolley he realised he was hungry, but his wasn’t the type of hunger that could be satisfied by chicken or fruit. He shrugged as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped it, “Not really in the mood for more human food, Buffy… although…” He leaned over and took a huge chunk out of the peach in her hand. Slurping noisily he commented, “Hmmm… sweet…” He smirked, “But not as sweet as my Slayer…”

Buffy turned to him, suddenly serious. She held up a sticky forefinger and admonished him, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t feed from me last night, buster. You’re not going to make me forget today. As soon as I’ve finished eating it’s your turn!” She tapped her neck. “Slayer on tap right here for you.” As Spike opened his mouth to protest she pressed the finger against his lips. “No excuses accepted. We made a deal.” She gnawed the last of the flesh from the peach stone and dropped it in the debris from her meal, then got up and went into the bathroom.

Spike gazed blindly out at the teeming rain as he sipped his coffee and listened to Buffy washing her face and hands. He was still trying to come up with a convincing reason why he shouldn’t drink from her when she returned, fresh faced and smiling. She stood in front of him and took his coffee cup from him, then placing it back on the table she sat astride his lap facing him. She flipped her hair to one side then leant forward tipping her head, deliberately presenting his mark to his mouth. She murmured, “Time to eat, Spike.”

Spike kissed his mark as his arms went around her, one hand fisting in her hair while the other encircled her waist, pressing her against him. Suddenly terrified of hurting her, he breathed, “Don’t think I wanna do this now. I’m too hungry. I dunno if…”

She sat back slightly and smiled down into his eyes, cupping his cheek fondly and pressing her thumb to his lips to silence him. She quietly assured him, “I know you won’t take enough to hurt me, Spike. I trust you.”

Completely undone, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her shoulder. While he felt pure joy at this clear evidence of her faith in him, the responsibility she was placing on his shoulders was petrifying. While he could usually control his demon, he knew only too well what could happen if the bloodlust proved too strong and the monster within seized the upper hand.

Clearly sensing his inner conflict Buffy whispered, “Your demon loves me, Spike. He chose me as his Mate. He’s not going to let you do anything to endanger me.” She gently urged him, “Feed now. I need you to be strong.”

Taking a deep breath Spike gasped, “Oh, my love…” With his doubts dismissed, he settled Buffy into a more comfortable position and began licking and nibbling at his mark. Carefully he allowed his demon to emerge, and when he felt the pulse beating strongly under his lips he sank his fangs deep into her flesh.

At the first long pull Buffy sighed and relaxed against him.

At the second pull she squeezed his shoulders and a soft “Oh!” escaped her lips.

At the third she moaned and shifted on Spike’s lap. Her thighs squeezed his hips and her fingers clutched desperately at the back of his head and his shoulder.

At the fourth she gasped, “Oh God… Spike!” She pressed herself into his chest and rocked her hips, sliding her throbbing centre against Spike’s constant erection that was now growing even harder due to the fresh infusion of Slayer blood.

At the fifth she whimpered and lifted off his lap slightly, one hand leaving his shoulder to take a firm hold on his erection. She guided it to her sopping entrance and sank slowly down onto it, causing Spike to moan into her neck and his hips to reflexively jerk upwards.

At the sixth her inner muscles quivered and tightened around him as she cried out. Then she bit down hard onto her own mark and wave after wave of pleasure crashed through them both.

Totally distracted from feeding, Spike stopped sucking and waited out his Mate’s orgasm, struggling to control his own desire. Once she began to recover her breath he took another long slow pull of her blood… and control went out of the window. With his fangs still buried in her neck he grasped her hips, stood, and took two steps to the nearest vertical surface. Pressing her back against the wall he tucked his arms under her thighs and spread her legs as wide as he could, cupped her backside in both hands to support her weight and began pumping relentlessly into her.

Between gasps and grunts Buffy told him, “Keep… feeding… please Spike…” Then as her fingernails dug into his shoulders she latched onto her mark once more and Spike could feel her, timing her drinking to his thrusts. Growling softly in sheer ecstasy, Spike resumed his sucking, this time taking tiny pleasure inducing sips rather than the deep pulls employed for feeding. He deliberately adopted the same rhythm as his Mate and once more he had that uncanny sensation that blood was being circulated between them.

Spike kept going, slamming their pelvic bones together again and again and taking them both to orgasm after orgasm fuelled by the power lent to him by his Slayer’s blood until Buffy finally took her mouth from his neck, licked her mark and rested her head heavily on his shoulder. Her chest heaved and she panted as if she’d just run a marathon.

Spike immediately stopped drinking and his punishing thrusts gradually slowed and stopped. He stood still for a few moments just listening anxiously to Buffy’s heartbeat. He closed his eyes and gave quiet thanks when he realised it was as strong as ever. Gradually he gathered his wits and encouraged his randy demon to subside. Finally he retracted his fangs and licked the wound as he relaxed and resumed his human appearance. Cautiously he drew Buffy away from the wall, took a few unsteady steps to the bed, turned to sit down and then collapsed back onto the soft mattress.

They lay wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes, recovering in stunned silence. When Buffy’s breathing had almost returned to normal Spike was startled when she began to giggle. He grimaced and in a mock offended tone he commented, “Well… laughter wasn’t quite the reaction I was hoping for…”

Buffy only laughed louder, tears streaming down her face onto Spike’s chest. Her quivering and shaking set off a reaction and all at once Spike buried his face in her hair and gripped her tightly as his hips jerked and another unexpected pulse of pleasure crashed through them.

Buffy’s laughter only paused for the duration of their mutual shuddering climax then she resumed, even more uncontrollably. Spike began to get impatient with her but couldn't resist the appeal of the overwhelming hilarity flooding to him through their Bond so before long he was chuckling along with her.

It was several minutes before Buffy was able to contain herself. She sniffed and snorted as she brushed her wet cheeks with her fingers and grinned apologetically at Spike as she eased herself off him and curled up into his side. She gasped, “Sorry about that… Oh dear, I’ve got a stitch…” She wrapped her arms around herself and lay with her eyes closed for a few moments, little chuckles breaking out every few seconds.

Eventually she explained, “It’s just… Giles told me how he’d keep watch to make notes, and you and I would stand there with Xander beside Dawnie as she opened the portal, then when he was satisfied it had worked properly you’d feed from me and jump straight in to close it.” She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head as she sniggered. “My brain was making these pictures in my head…” She snorted again, “I think we’re going to have to find a bush or something to hide behind when you feed from me for portals… while this was really er… WOW! It’s so not something I want to repeat in public!”

Spike grinned and hugged her tightly. He joked, “It’ll have to be a bloody thick bush… with soundproofing… and absolutely no thorns!”

In mock seriousness Buffy nodded, “Roger. Ixnay on the thornage.”

Spike smirked wickedly and added, “I was beginning to think I’d finally managed to shag your brains out…”

She sniggered again and said, “Not quite…” Then she kissed him and pulled away from him slightly and stretched, heaving a massive sigh as she relaxed. She murmured, “Would you believe I’m hungry again?” Stroking down Spike’s chest, belly and thigh as she got up she crossed back to the room service trolley and grabbed a pear. Taking a huge bite she strolled towards the bathroom, turning her head to say, “Put some clothes on? Now my legs are working again I wanna take a walk…”

Spike frowned. “Slayer, just in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the middle of the bloody day. I do have this fatal sunlight allergy, you know!”

Poking her head back around the bathroom door she shook her head and smiled fondly, “Doofus… look outside. What do you see?”

Spike glanced at the window and remembered that the heavy rain that had begun as they arrived back at the hotel the previous night was still falling. He gave a quiet, “Oh yeah!” of realisation. Rain equalled dense cloud cover equalled no direct sunlight.

Over the sound of running water, Buffy called from the bathroom, “I checked with the room service guy, it isn’t supposed to clear up until this evening.” She returned wearing a faded blue denim wraparound skirt that ended about three inches above her knees and a long sleeved teal sweater fastened with a zip up the front. She cocked her head to one side, raised an eyebrow and teased him, “Or is the Big Bad scared of a little rain?”

Spike sat up with a petulant pout, muttering sulkily, “Daft wench, why can’t you just come back to bed for the rest of the afternoon?”

She laughed as she tossed the core of her pear onto her used plate and took up a slice of apple pie and bit into it. As she chewed she went to the closet and grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt and threw them at his head. Mumbling around her mouthful she urged, “Oh come on… I know it’s too cold to swim in the ocean, but at least we can do the romantic beach walk thing.” As Spike reluctantly rolled off the bed and began pulling the clothes on she gestured at the rain. “I know we’re gonna get cold and wet, but we’ve got this lovely big hot tub just sitting there waiting for when we get back.” She turned to indicate the fireplace. “And then there’s the flamey goodness for drying off.”

Spike had become accustomed to his button fly Levi’s, so in his aroused condition this new pair of jeans required him to take particular care not to catch anything important in the teeth of the zip. Finally he was dressed and he bent to put on his Doc Martens, but Buffy held out the hand not occupied with a huge chunk of carrot cake to prevent him from doing so. She instructed, “Oh no, vampire mine… no boots. The traditional romantic walk on the beach requires bare feet and sand between the toes.” As she pulled on her slashed leather jacket she tossed him his leather duster. “As it’s raining though, I’ll let you wear this.”

She finished her piece of cake, licked her fingers and took a last swig from her glass of juice before sliding the glass door onto the deck open. When they were both outside Buffy shivered slightly as she closed the door again and Spike wrapped his arms around her waist. Titillated by the thought of his Slayer wearing a short skirt with no underwear beneath, he slid one hand up her leg to cup a warm buttock before edging round and easing a finger into her welcoming heat. He murmured into her ear, “Sure you wouldn’t rather go back to bed, Sweetheart?”

She rocked her hips to press herself against his hand as she kissed him, stroking him through his jeans. Grinning she replied, “Changed my mind… I don’t wanna walk…” While Spike let out a low growl of desire and turned back towards the cottage she jumped down onto the sand, laughed, and yelled back over her shoulder, “I wanna run!” Kicking up her heels she set off down towards the ocean, then curved away to follow the line of the beach away from the hotel. As she ran on the firm wet sand just out of the reach of the breaking waves she taunted in a singsong voice, “Bet you can’t catch me!”

Spike caught a sense of her carefree exhilaration and determined to catch up with her and make her pay for teasing him. Realising that having his heavy duster flapping around his heels would only slow him down he shrugged it off leaving it in a heap on the sheltered part of the deck, and with a delighted grin plastered across his face he set off in pursuit.

It took more than five minutes of running flat out for Spike to even begin to get close to Buffy. She hurdled over several wooden breakwaters, splashed through a small stream, and once staggered and faltered when she was surprised by an incoming wave that reached above her knees and threatened to drag her back into the sea with it when it retreated. Even so she showed no signs of slowing down until she came to an outcropping of rocks and boulders that jutted out into the water.

Pausing briefly to look behind her she squealed in excited surprise when she realised how near he had come, then she turned to run up the beach around the rocks, only hesitating as she reached deep dry sand and got bogged down. Finally she threw her hands in the air in disgust and stopped, leaning against a huge boulder to catch her breath.

Buffy was bent over with her hands braced on her thighs, panting for air when Spike at last reached her. She straightened up and grinned at him, flinging her arms wide to greet him with a fierce hug. She cried, “Oh that was great! I can’t remember when I last had a really hard run just for the fun of it!”

Spike pulled back a bit, gave her a smouldering glare and accused, “You ran out on me, Slayer…” He smirked wickedly as he growled, “So now you have to be punished!” He brushed a lock of wet hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear then captured her mouth in a hard possessive kiss. With one hand grasping the wet rock above her head he sent the other questing up under her sodden, sand splattered skirt.

Buffy gasped and sagged back, parting her legs to allow Spike’s fingers to explore. Her chest was still heaving from her run so Spike moved his lips from her mouth to kiss and suck at his mark while he thrust two fingers into her slick centre. As he tasted her tangy sweat seasoned with salt spray and teased her with little nips and licks he pumped his fingers into her and pressed his denim-covered erection into her hip.

It didn’t take long for Buffy to begin whimpering and rocking into Spike’s hand. He exerted tight self-control and monitored her responses closely. Then just as he felt her inner muscles begin to quiver he abruptly stood up, took his hand from under her skirt and turned away. Sucking her juices off his fingers he casually set off around the rocks back down to the water’s edge and continued walking along the beach. He paddled in the foam left by a retreating wave and in an offhand manner called back to her, “Thought you wanted to go for a walk, Buffy!”

After a few moments of stunned silence a shrill shriek reached Spike along with a wave of irritated frustration. Hastily reconsidering the wisdom of his leisurely stroll, he broke into a fast run. He didn’t get very far. After only about fifty paces he was tackled from behind and went rolling in the sand with a Slayer shaped limpet attached to his legs.

Buffy finally managed to pin him to the ground and straddled his hips. Grinning madly she threatened him, “You’re evil, you know that? I’m so gonna get you back for that!” She ripped his T-shirt off and began tickling him in the ribs. Giggling hysterically Spike began kicking and writhing, struggling to get free. His movements had an interesting effect on Buffy who began rubbing herself against the rock hard bulge in his jeans.

Gasping through his giggles Spike croaked, “But Slayer that’s what I keep telling you! I’m the Big Bad! Evil through and through!”

Buffy got so distracted by the sensations the rough denim was producing between her legs she lost focus on her tickling for a few moments. This allowed Spike to collect his wits and reach up to force the zip of her sweater down, pulling the tag right off in the process, and raise his head sufficiently to latch onto a nipple and have a nibble. Leaning forward into his mouth Buffy lifted her hips and reached a hand underneath to squeeze Spike through his jeans.

Spike was just getting really engrossed in this new activity and was thrusting eagerly up into Buffy’s hand when she sat up slightly, causing Spike to lose his hold on her nipple with an audible ‘plop’. He lay back with a disappointed moan, only to growl in frustration when she jumped up and ran off back in the direction from which they had come, laughing madly. Over her shoulder she yelled, “If you want me, come and get me!”

Leaving the remains of his T-shirt floating away in the surf, Spike clambered to his feet, winced as he adjusted himself in his jeans to prevent any further chafing against the inside of the zip, and once more set off in pursuit.

After passing back around the rocks Spike vamped out, hoping that this tactic would give him a fresh burst of speed, then promptly reverted to his human face when he remembered that it would now have exactly the same effect on Buffy. Frowning in concentration he dug deep and ran as fast as he could, gradually gaining on the fleeing blonde. Giving a howl of triumph he vamped out as he dived, his claws catching in the back of her jacket.

With Spike’s weight dragging her down Buffy staggered to a halt and fell to her knees, twisting out of her jacket as she tried to escape. Flinging it away in disgust Spike scrabbled through the sand and caught her. He gripped both of her wrists above her head and pressed his body down into hers growling, “Not a good idea to tease the Big Bad, Slayer.”

Buffy giggled and huskily whispered, “But it’s so much fun!” Spike ducked his head to lick and nibble at his mark and Buffy gasped and rocked her hips up into him. Distracted by her seductive movements Spike loosened his grip slightly and Buffy took the opportunity to slip her arms out of her sweater sleeves and flip them over so she sat astride his waist. This left Spike holding an empty sweater, which he dropped in the sand.

Leaning forward, Buffy sank her teeth into her mark, trying to divert Spike from the fact she was undoing his jeans. This tactic worked until her sand covered hand touched hard cool flesh. Spike bucked under her and tossed her over his head, whirling around until he was lying on top of her again. He shook his head, forcing his demon back down. “Tsk tsk, Slayer. Can’t catch me out that easily!” He slid his erection up and down her slick scalding crease as he edged his jeans down his legs.

Once he’d kicked his jeans right off he got down to the serious business of kissing his Slayer. She responded eagerly, her fingers sinking into his hips as she tried to encourage him towards where she wanted him. When he didn’t move quickly enough for her she rolled them over and took the initiative, sinking down upon him with a groan of satisfaction. Spike took exception to Buffy’s move and rolled them again. Every few minutes they rolled over again, laughing as they struggled for domination, the two buttons holding Buffy’s skirt together getting lost somewhere in the process.

After several minutes of this delightful rivalry they finally settled with Spike lying over Buffy as he thrust into her and they were both on the point of coming when a huge wave swept up the beach and broke over them.

Completely unfazed, Spike kept going for a few seconds before he realised that Buffy had tensed up under him. Her fingernails were digging into his ribs and she wasn't breathing. Raising his head he saw a pair of very wide eyes and a gaping mouth. He hesitantly asked, “Buffy? You okay sweetheart?”

Buffy let out a shuddering breath and shivered. She stammered, “C-c-cold…”


Spike frowned as he took in the slight blue tinge to Buffy’s skin and the mass of goose bumps that had suddenly appeared all over her body. He anxiously asked, “What d’you...”

Before he could finish his question Buffy gasped, “Hot tub! Now!”

Suddenly frantic with worry Spike withdrew from her body and stood, looking around for their clothes. There was no sign of anything on the shore but he caught sight of something floating out to sea. It looked like denim but it could have been either his jeans or Buffy’s skirt, and besides it was beyond reach now. He crouched down to support Buffy to her feet, babbling incoherent apologies. He went to pick her up but she held up her hand to stop him saying, “Need to move to warm up.” She snorted with laughter. “And if anyone sees us you are so sleeping on the couch for a week!” As she stumbled along the beach with Spike’s arm helping support her she shook her head in amused disbelief and muttered, “Can’t believe I did this!”

Spike looked up and saw they were only a few hundred yards from the cottage. In their game they had run almost the whole way back. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of how the cold winter rain would affect Buffy… and then there had been the unexpected dunking in the ocean. After the way she’d been so cold after the short ride through the rain the previous night he really should have remembered…

“Stop that!” Buffy’s harsh tone broke through Spike’s musings.

“Stop what, Slayer?” He gasped, giving in to his impulse to sweep her up and run towards the reviving heat of the hot tub.

“Stop blaming yourself!” She continued as he leapt up onto the deck and shoved the lid off the hot tub with his foot. He set Buffy on her feet and she slowly lowered herself into the steaming water with short sharp gasps as her frigid body was gradually submerged. Once she was seated she relaxed with a huge sigh. She looked up at him and added, “You didn’t do this to me. I was right there with you! I was just as foolish and careless as you, so don’t you dare beat yourself up about it! Now get in here and warm yourself up too, you must be a vampsicle.”

Spike shrugged and stepped down into the hot tub beside her, still feeling uneasy about his part in her discomfort. To his delight Buffy moved over and sat in his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder saying, “I mean it, Spike. This isn’t your fault. I’m the one who started the whole tearing off of clothes thing. I could have stopped it at any time and I didn’t. Now, stop brooding and cuddle me.”

Spike stiffened, taking offence. “I. Do. Not. Brood.”

Buffy chuckled, “Well… stop moping then!” She gave him a soft affectionate kiss and flirtatiously suggested, “When we’re warm I wanna finish what we started…” She scratched her head and frowned slightly before adding, “Once I’ve washed all this itchy sand out of my hair.”

Spike chuckled and cuddled her tight, then sent his hands skimming all over her body, relieved that he could no longer feel any goosebumps. He whispered, “Happy to oblige, darlin’.”

She was silent for a minute then commented thoughtfully, “I really should have known better than try for a romantic walk on the beach in the pouring rain in February. It was just the thought of being out and about with you during the day that was so irresistible. We’re gonna have to come back in the summer when it’s warm and have a moonlight walk instead.” She giggled softly and whispered, “Perhaps we could have a midnight swim too. I’ve never dared to go skinny-dipping before, but with you…”

Spike growled playfully at the thought and murmured, “Oh yeah… brilliant idea…”

Buffy shifted awkwardly in his lap, settled down for a few seconds, then wriggled again. She giggled nervously, then began squirmed in earnest. Flushing slightly she hesitantly asked, “Spike? Remember down in the cave you said we shouldn’t make love on the beach ‘cos we’d get sand in… what was it you said? Um… Oh yeah, in ‘those important little places’? Well… I think I’ve got sand in a very important little place!”

Spike burst out laughing. Buffy pouted, thumped him on the chest and cried, “It’s not funny!”

Spike only laughed harder, “Yeah, ‘tis.”

After a second of mock indignation Buffy dissolved into giggles and gasped, “Oh, it so is!” When she managed to get her breath back she stood up and tugged on Spike’s hand saying, “Come on you, come to the shower and help me get unsandy… it’ll be fun!”

Half an hour later, after some very imaginative use of the adjustable shower head and a great deal of giggling followed by repeated applications of shampoo and conditioner, they finally made it back to what had become their favourite place, the rug in front of the fire.

Spike was intent upon resuming their interrupted activities, his mouth and hands fully occupied, when she resisted him and gasped, “Spike… stop!”

He raised his head, looking at her with a quizzically arched eyebrow and hesitantly asked, “Is that one of your ‘stop... but I really want you to keep going and I’m only saying stop so I’m not responsible for anything that happens after this point’ stops, or is it an ‘I actually want you to stop now’ stop?”

Buffy snorted and batted him playfully on the chest, “Dumbass... it’s a ‘stop now’ stop. There aren’t going to be any more of the other sort. I don’t need those now.”

Spike rolled away from her and lay back, clasped his hands under his head and pouted. He sulkily complained, “Well you’re the one who said you wanted to finish what we started.”

“Oh Spike, I do… it’s just…” She sighed and moved to lie on her side against him and ran her fingers through his damp curls. “In the past few months we’ve had lots of crazy red hot sex, and now you’ve made sweet love to me and we’ve had mind-blowing bitey claimy sex…”

Spike cocked his head at her, arched his scarred eyebrow and smirked, “Mind blowing?”

Buffy thumped him playfully. “Oh you know it was! Anyway… it’s just… all this time… I’ve never really made love to you, and I really wanna try that now… if that’s okay? I wanna know what you like.”

Spike gazed with awe into a pair of soft green slightly nervous eyes, then he closed his own suddenly moist eyes for a few seconds to savour the moment. Nobody had ever offered him that before. Not even Drusilla. Nobody had ever cared enough to make it about him. He hadn’t even known he wanted it until she’d suggested it, hadn’t realised how much he needed it. He let his breath out with a soft “Oh!” of wonder, and then he whispered in disbelief, “You wanna make love to me and you’re askin’ me if that’s okay? Buffy, sweetheart, that might just be the dumbest bloody question you’ve ever asked me.” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in close, crushing her to his chest and mumbling into her hair, “Love you so bloody much.”

After a couple of minutes she wheezed, “Spike. Need to breathe.”

Reluctantly Spike released his hold on her and relaxed back onto the rug, his shaking hands clasped under his head again. He kept his traitorous eyes closed in the hope that his pooling tears wouldn’t fall and reveal his weakness. He heard Buffy give a quiet sigh then felt a gentle hand stroking his cheek and a soft kiss on his lips.

She breathed, “Spike, I’m so sorry. I should’ve… I mean I never thought…” She took a deep breath and began again. “I’ve been so selfish.” Spike opened his mouth to protest but a finger was placed firmly on his lips. “No… I have. I’ve taken and taken from you. Now it’s my turn to give.” She brushed away the single tear that had escaped to trickle down into his hair and in a steadier voice she instructed him, “Lie back, keep your eyes closed and just let it happen…okay? I’m gonna try and find out what makes you tick.”

He felt the heat radiating from her as she knelt astride his thighs and began to stroke his chest and stomach. She breathed, “So beautiful… you’re like one of those marble statues… only better.” She giggled mischievously as a single finger trailed down and lightly tapped his erection, “How big do fig leaves come anyway? I think you’d need a whole branch!”

Spike chortled and stretched sensuously under her touch, edging his hips upwards seeking to press himself against her molten core as he murmured, “All the more to pleasure you with, my darlin’.”

Buffy made a “Tsk” noise under her breath as she laid a flat palm on his hipbone to press him back down. “Quiet… and keep still.” She teasingly added, “I dare you…”

He smiled, relaxed, and waited for her next move.

Then her warm little hands were stroking and massaging him. Her fingernails were raking across his chest and tantalising his nipples and her soft lips were following them, kissing and soothing. Her hot wet tongue added to the incredible sensations by occasionally darting in and licking instead of kissing and then her blunt teeth were nibbling and nipping as well. Warm air was being breathed over his skin… and it all felt so wonderful he had to move his hands from behind his head and dig his fingers into the thick pile of the rug beneath him to remain obedient to her wishes.

His unneeded breath came in shuddering hisses moans and gasps as she gradually moved over his body caressing and tasting him. Every single nerve ending on his body was becoming sensitised and desperate to be touched. A constant accompaniment was her quiet voice murmuring things such as: “Oh yes, you like that don’t you?” and, “Your skin’s so smooth and soft, but underneath… those wonderful muscles…” and, “That feels good doesn’t it?” and, “Oh, you taste so good…”

All the while she was ignoring the one throbbing, aching part of him crying out to be touched.

When he could stand the suspense no longer Spike opened his eyes to watch her as with her eyes closed in blissful concentration she licked and nuzzled the soft skin in the crease where his thigh joined his belly. At the same time her fingers were teasing his stomach and navel and her silky hair was brushing like butterfly wings over his neglected erection. The delicate stimulation that was causing him to twitch and whimper so needily was tantalisingly on the brink of becoming unbearable… and then she sank her teeth into the corded muscle at his waist and he shuddered and reflexively lurched upwards and reached out for her.

He begged, “Buffy… please love…” as he grasped her arms and tugged her up to crush her mouth against his in a bruising kiss causing her to overbalance and land on top of his body, at last providing the much needed friction. She relaxed on him and melted into the kiss, her hands reaching up to run playfully through his hair while his hands went to her back to press her down onto him so he could rub himself against her silky smooth belly.

The kiss went from passionate to tender and back again, then after several minutes when Buffy needed to break away from Spike’s mouth to catch her breath she propped herself up on her arms, rocked her body on his to tease him, looked down into his eyes and smiled. Shyly she asked, “How am I doing?” She dipped her head and kissed the tip of his nose. “You like?”

Spike grinned at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You know!”

She smiled as she raised herself up and guided him to her entrance. Softly she admitted, “Yeah, I really do.” Maintaining eye contact she began slowly undulating her body taking him in a little bit at a time. Every few seconds she whispered, “Love you…” until he was fully embedded in her moist silken heat and he was so happy he felt as if he might spontaneously combust.

As she slowly rolled her hips she continued nipping and nuzzling his shoulders, neck and chin making him whimper and moan with pleasure. When she began pulsating her inner muscles and sending rippling waves of pressure up and down the length of him he started to lose control. The last straw came when she made a playful growling noise and gently bit down on her mark.

Spike shuddered as his hips bucked up under her and his mouth went to his mark, suckling it strongly as he exploded inside her, his muffled cries of pleasure joining hers.

When she had got her breath back Buffy hooked a foot around his leg and used it to lever them onto their sides, where they continued kissing and cuddling for several minutes of contented bliss. Spike could quite happily have stayed there kissing her for hours. He could never get enough of the taste of her, the feel of her soft lips, her seductive tongue, her hot hungry mouth on his, but eventually Buffy broke the comfortable silence. She grumbled, “It’ll be sunset soon.” She pouted, “Am I a bad person ‘cos I don’t want to go back yet?”

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear he assured her fondly, “You couldn’t be a bad person if you tried, Buffy.”

Frowning slightly she asked, “Hey…! How do I know it’s nearly sunset?”

Spike smirked, “Vampire instinct, Slayer. Guess this Bond still hasn’t finished surprising us then. Wonder what else there is we haven’t figured out yet?”

Buffy made a little “Hmm” noise of agreement, then after heaving a huge sigh she admitted in a very small voice, “I’m scared.”

Spike’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment, she so rarely allowed herself to display fear. He hadn’t sensed any at all, although the moment she said the word it was right there, filling the Bond. He realised she must have been hiding it from herself. His girl would win the Olympic medal for denial, if they had one. He asked, “Of what?”

She heaved a huge sigh and breathed, “Portals. I know we have to get them under control. I know it’s something that’s really important to Dawnie and probably to the world too, but last time we had a portal…”

Spike squeezed her tight, murmuring “Oh Buffy, not gonna let anything happen to you. You know the Watcher wouldn’t let the Niblet make a bloody portal if he didn’t know she could control it. ’Sides, it’s me gonna jump this time, you’ve just got to stand there and do what you do best, watch out for beasties coming at us and look after us all.”

Buffy cupped his cheek in her palm and gazed into his eyes. Solemnly she instructed him, “Just make sure you come back to me safe and sound, you hear?”

Kissing her soundly he assured her, “Promise.”


******


It was nearly an hour after sunset when Spike parked the DeSoto at the kerb at 1630 Revello. As he switched off the ignition he gestured towards the unlit windows and commented, “Looks like nobody’s home.” It was still raining slightly so Buffy ran straight up onto the porch clutching the bottle of champagne and the roses, while Spike retrieved the luggage from the trunk. He grumpily stomped up the porch steps laden with the two suitcases, Buffy’s vanity case, the holdall and the backpack. They had been told they could keep the chef’s knives, as they couldn’t be used in the hotel kitchen again after they’d used them to kill demons.

Buffy grinned mischievously as she used her key and as soon as the door swung open she wrapped her arms around Spike’s neck, jumped up to straddle his waist and imperiously demanded to be carried over the threshold. With his centre of gravity so unexpectedly destabilised Spike staggered forward into the hallway and tripped over his own feet. The luggage went flying and with a muffled “Bloody Hell!” from Spike they crashed laughing to the floor in a muddle of arms and legs.

Finding himself in a very convenient position lying on top of Buffy, Spike decided to take advantage of the situation. He ran one hand up under her shirt to caress her and pressed the ever-present bulge in his jeans down into her while reaching for a kiss.

Buffy was slipping her hands up under Spike’s t-shirt and red silk shirt enthusiastically returning the kiss when they both clearly heard a dull thump from the living room. In a heartbeat they were crouched side by side peering into the gloom, poised for action against whatever threat there may be. Buffy had retrieved her stake from her boot and Spike wielded a large knife he’d taken from the backpack. Buffy breathed, “Game face…” and Spike grinned wickedly around his fangs. If an intruder was expecting to surprise a human and was thinking to take advantage of the lack of light, he would be in for a nasty shock.

Almost immediately Spike realised he didn’t need to use his enhanced night vision and relaxed. He could clearly hear the quiet breathing and slightly raised heartbeats of several humans, and by inhaling deeply he could easily identify some very familiar scents. He turned to a very apprehensive Buffy beside him who was squinting into the darkness and whispered into her ear, “Listen and smell, Slayer. What can you sense?”

Buffy frowned as she concentrated, then turned and asked hesitantly, “Humans? I can hear breathing and heartbeats, and something smells familiar.”

Spike smiled. “You’re gonna need to get to know their scents, Slayer. It’s all the Scoobies.” He stood up and spoke out loud. “What’re you all doing sitting in the bloody dark then? Is the power out or something?”

Instantly the lights went on. Spike shook off his game face and he and Buffy blinked as their eyes adjusted. Dawn laughed as she crowed, “I told you so! I knew we wouldn’t be able to surprise them.”

Spike tucked his knife away, slipped his duster off and hung it up then took Buffy’s hand, dodged around the scattered luggage and entered the living room. It was decorated with balloons and streamers and Giles and the whole Scooby gang was waiting for them. Giles spoke up. “I hope you don’t mind, Buffy… Spike. We thought we should hold a small celebration in recognition of your Mating. I thought we could combine it with last minute preparations for the first portal trial run.” He took his glasses off and used them to gesture around at all the young people in the room as he polished them and added, “Since I returned from England I’ve come to understand that recently the relationships within the group have been a bit strained. I thought a small gathering to mark the occasion might help us reinforce the special bond we’ve formed over the years.”

Releasing Spike’s hand Buffy went up to Giles and hugged him, saying rather tearfully, “Oh Giles, what a lovely idea, thank you.”

When Dawn saw Buffy’s hands on Giles’ back she squealed, “Oh Buffy! You’re wearing Spike’s ring! Oh that’s so megacool!” Naturally all the girls then clustered around Buffy exclaiming on the garnet ring and hugging Buffy.

This left Giles, Xander and Spike standing rather awkwardly apart. Feeling slightly silly Spike felt compelled to hold up his left hand to show the two human men. He shrugged, affecting casual nonchalance to disguise the fact he was feeling extremely moved that the whole group had turned out to celebrate something he had thought they would find hard to accept. “Slayer gave me one too. Wasn’t expecting it…”

For a few minutes there was a bustle of activity as the luggage was taken upstairs, the champagne and slightly battered roses were produced and explained, and the roses arranged in a vase. When Buffy suggested the champagne should be opened there and then it was pointed out to her that it might not be a good idea so soon after she dropped the bottle. Willow put it in the fridge and produced the sodas and beers that had been prepared for consumption before the dinner that would shortly be ready.

Everyone settled down happily in the living room with a drink. Spike and Buffy sat cuddled up in the big armchair with Dawn draped over one of the arms leaning against Spike’s shoulder. Xander and Anya took seats as far from each other as physically possible, giving every sign of totally ignoring each other, but Spike could see that each of them was sending sly glances at the other when they thought they weren’t being observed. It seemed to him however, that while Xander’s eyes were appreciative and contemplative, Anya’s were cold and measuring.

Dawn picked up Buffy’s hand to examine the ring once more and commented, “I think Spike’s ring is so much prettier than the one Angel gave you, Buffy. Don’t you?”

Surprised and jealous, Spike’s attention was drawn from the recently separated couple who were immediately wiped from his mind. He glared at Buffy and growled possessively, “His Broodiness gave you a ring?”

Buffy absently caressed her ring finger and turned to him, explaining, “Yeah, for my birthday. He gave me a gladder ring. He said it was a symbol of devotion.” She dropped her eyes in embarrassment and shame. “That was the night we… um… the night I made him lose his soul.” Both seeing and sensing Spike’s jealous distress she hurriedly continued, “I haven’t got it any more. I took it off when he went all Angelus. Once I’d accepted I’d had no choice but to send him to Hell and that he was really gone, I left it in the mansion where I’d killed him as a kinda goodbye.”

Tara regarded her thoughtfully for a moment then asked, “Do you mean a Claddagh ring, Buffy? It would have been in the shape of a pair of hands holding a heart topped with a crown.” When Buffy nodded she continued, “You’re fiddling with your left hand, is that where you wore it?”

Buffy sadly answered, “Yeah, he said I should wear it with the heart pointing inwards to show I belonged to somebody. He had one on too, to show he belonged to me.”

Tara smiled and softly said, “Aaw... that’s so sweet. I haven’t heard of a handfasting done the old way for ages. My great grandparents got married like that.”

Buffy’s eyebrows went up in surprise, “A handfasting? Married? Tara? I don’t understand…”

Bewildered, Tara asked, “He didn’t tell you? It’s like a trial marriage. It used to happen a lot in isolated areas of Ireland when there weren’t many priests around. The couple would exchange rings in a handfasting ceremony, and they’d be considered married until they could get to a priest to do it properly. Even if they couldn’t find a priest, unless they broke up within a year and a day everyone would accept them as being officially married.” Suddenly hesitant, she looked quizzically at Buffy. “You did break up with Angel within a year and a day, didn’t you, Buffy?”

Visibly shocked, Buffy breathed, “No. Angel didn’t say he was leaving me until just before the prom, that was in May. So that was way over a year after he gave me the ring.”

Tara gaped at her for a moment, then stammered, “Bu… but that means Angel probably considers you’re his wife, Buffy. W… when you slept together, to him that was your w... wedding night.” She shook her head in dismayed disbelief, “I can’t believe he would go through a handfasting ceremony with you without explaining the significance! That’s just so wrong.”

Spike snorted in disgust. “God, that’s so like him. Manipulative bastard. No wonder he had such a happy his soul went walkabout. As far as he was concerned Angelus was deflowering his child bride.” Buffy was now openly crying so Spike cuddled her tight to his chest and nuzzled into her hair and whispered, “So sorry, beloved. You hate this don’t you? I know you loved him, but I don’t think you ever knew the real Angel.” He paused for a few seconds and did a double take on something Buffy had said, then with his quiet voice shaking with fury he asked, “And what do you mean you made him lose his bloody soul? What on earth gave you the idea that was your fault?”

Buffy shrugged and said sadly, “It was my fault.”

In a reproachful tone Giles added, “It was Buffy sleeping with Angel that gave him his moment of perfect happiness to release his soul, Spike. I thought you knew that?”

Unable to believe his ears Spike rounded on the Watcher. “She didn’t release his soul you stupid soddin’ pillock! She just happened to be one person able to let Angelus break the gypsies’ curse!” He shrugged, “Ironically, breaking a curse would normally be a good thing for the Slayer to do.” He jabbed an accusing finger at Giles. “How the hell could you have thought it was Buffy’s fault anyway, Rupert? Two people were involved in what happened that night, weren’t they? One was a twenty nine year old drunken thieving libertine who took advantage of every woman he came across, raping them when he couldn’t seduce them. He went through his family’s fortune without a thought for anyone else but himself and never did an honest day’s work in his life… and that was before he was turned. Then he had a century and a half as Angelus shagging anything that moved… and you don’t need me to describe that self-absorbed sadistic git. Then after he was cursed he was still the same ignorant paddy that cared nothing for anyone but himself. He had that soddin’ curse for over a century, don’t you think he could have researched its properties for himself? He should have known exactly what it entailed! Truth is, he was just too bleedin’ apathetic to bother.”

He took a deep breath and his voice softened in sympathy as he gently stroked Buffy’s hair and squeezed her sobbing figure to him. “The second person involved was a true innocent. A sixteen year old schoolgirl who was attracted to the fascinating older bloke who was supposedly sent by the Powers That Bugger Us Up to support her… not to take advantage of her! She couldn’t have had a clue what form the bloody curse took!” He glared a challenge at the other Englishman. “Well Watcher, which of them do you think should be held responsible for the consequences?”

Giles frantically polished his glasses, looking anywhere but at the blonde couple in the big armchair as he sheepishly muttered, “Oh dear Lord, I never thought of it like that… Of course, none of us knew…”

Anya’s sharp voice cut through the murmurings around the room, “Excuse me… Excuse me… I have a question!” After a few moments the room fell quiet and everyone’s attention was directed at the blonde as in an impatient tone she asked Giles, “I never knew how Angel ended up with a soul, I just knew you called him ‘The Vampire With A Soul’. Is it correct that he received a soul as a result of a gypsy curse?”

Giles blinked and nodded. “Why, yes my dear. About a century ago he upset a tribe of Romanian gypsies by killing a young girl they considered to be precious, and they cursed him with his soul as punishment, to give him a conscience so that he should feel remorse for his actions.”

Anya’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Angel was that vampire? So why do you call him ‘The Vampire With A Soul’? The prophecies regarding ‘The Vampire With A Soul’ make it perfectly clear he will request the return of his own soul in a deliberate attempt to change his nature and turn towards the light. It’s very romantic, the thought that a demon would voluntarily give up everything from which he derives power and respect, for love. What you’ve just told me means Angel should rightly be addressed as ‘The Vampire With A Curse’... or more commonly ‘The Cursed One’. You should look out the prophecies regarding him, they’re not pretty.”

She nodded excitedly. “I remember the case now. The soul itself wasn’t intended to make him feel guilty about his past, after all the soul was innocent. It hadn’t been present during the vampire’s existence and had no reason to feel responsible for the demon’s actions. Besides the possession of a soul is no guarantee that someone will have a conscience or be a good person. Plenty of humans with fully functioning consciences commit the most heinous atrocities. The demon wouldn’t have had any reason to feel guilty either. It was only following its nature and doing what was required for it to survive. It was the curse that provided the punishment. The soul was just the medium for activating the curse.” She took on a contemplative expression and mused, “I wonder whose soul they used in the end… the sister’s or the Potential Slayer’s? I’m very surprised he has survived this long, Edie expected him to go insane and walk into the sun or fall prey to the Slayer within weeks.”

Unaware of all the astounded expressions turned to her Anya waited for Giles to reply. He gaped at her for a moment then hesitantly asked, “Uh… Anya, my dear girl. What are you talking about?”

The former demon regarded Giles in confusion. “What kind of Watcher are you? Surely you should have found out about all this when you first met Angel? Edielle was a friend of mine. She was the vengeance demon who answered the call of the gypsies’ Wise Woman and provided the curse to punish the vampire who raped, tortured and killed the first Potential Slayer born into the clan for over three hundred years. They were so very proud of her. Why do you think they were so angry at her loss? Many gypsy girls have been killed by vampires through the centuries, what did you think made that one so special? The clan’s seer had foretold she was due to become the Slayer shortly after her next birthday, when she would have turned fifteen.”

There were gasps of dismay all around Anya as she cocked her head to one side thoughtfully. “From what Edie said, Angel’s own human soul wouldn’t have been any good for the purpose as Liam O’Connor had been such an unpleasant amoral human. Even after being cursed the vampire was unlikely to have changed his ways at all. No, if I remember correctly they were going to use either the soul of his poor little sister, who he also killed, or the gypsy girl herself. Either one of them would have been suitable. A truly pure, innocent soul against which he could measure his actions, and to prevent him from getting a moment’s peace in the future.”

She turned to Willow suddenly. “Oh Willow! I’ve just realised. When you convinced us all that Buffy was in Hell and said we should bring her back didn’t you say the first big spell you did was to give Angel his soul? Was that after Buffy gave him his perfect orgasm?” When Willow winced at the former demon’s choice of words and nodded, Anya went on to ask, “Whose soul did you call for him? Was it the same one he had before, or Liam’s own soul? If you used his sister’s or the gypsy girl’s again it would have been very cruel of you. After having been trapped for so long they should have been left free to move on to their reward. And if it was Liam’s, Angel won’t be nearly as trustworthy as he was before.” She glared suspiciously, “Or did you just pick a random soul out of the ether? Just who is imprisoned in that vampire now, Willow?”

TBC