New beginnings

Chapter 8


For several seconds Spike’s entire body quivered as it passed through the portal energy, then he was tumbling forward onto lush fragrant grass. He instantly sprang to his feet brandishing his sword and spun around taking in his surroundings. Seeing he was in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees and thick undergrowth without a creature in sight he relaxed, intending to sheath his sword.

Before he could do so he collapsed onto all fours with a mournful howl.

He was alone, empty. His inconsolable demon forced its way to the surface causing him to vamp out as he clawed at the ground and raised his head to howl again. The Bond with his Mate had been broken. How could that be? Did it mean she was dead? He urgently needed to get back home to find out what had happened.

Spike lurched to his feet and turned around looking for the portal, only to find no sign of it.

Continually howling his loss to the skies he lashed out in agony, his sword slicing easily through foliage and branches alike. Then he heard a distant noise and a masculine voice calling, “Spike? Is that you making that awful noise? Where are you, you bleached moron?”

Tensing up warily, Spike fell silent and waited, sword held ready as he listened intently for another sound. There was crashing and rustling gradually coming closer, followed by the sound of twigs snapping and muffled swearing, then Xander Harris used his axe to help him force his way through the undergrowth into the clearing. He brushed himself down, then looked up and staggered back a couple of paces in shock. Hesitantly he asked, “Is that really you, Spike? What the hairy horned Hell has happened to you?” He frowned anxiously, looking around at the surrounding forest and nervously joked, “Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas any more…” Then his voice turned serious as he angrily asked, “And why am I in the same place as you anyway, Spike? That was not the plan! The Xanman was not supposed to go portal hopping today!”

Spike gaped at him, utterly speechless. His beloved Mate was gone, but this young human was here with him. Something had gone horribly wrong. He closed his eyes, lifted his face to the heavens and sent out another haunting howl.

Xander edged back towards the tree line and held his axe up defensively as he nervously asked, “What’s the matter with you?”

Opening his eyes to regard the irritating person who was disturbing his grief, Spike sobbed, “Buffy…”

Immediately adopting an anxious aggressive tone, Xander stepped forward again and demanded, “Buffy? Where is she? Is she all right? What have you done to her?”

Ignoring Xander’s accusing voice Spike lifted his head to howl again, but after just a couple of seconds he became aware of his Mate’s presence returning to his mind and he abruptly fell silent. His head whipped around to face where he could sense her and he hesitantly whispered, “Buffy?”

She was scared. Really scared… and confused and frantic with worry. Spike tried to cut out Xander’s annoying voice and concentrate on Buffy’s presence, attempting to reassure her, but a persistent hand shaking his shoulder could not be ignored.

“Spike! Spike! What’s going on? What’s happened to Buffy? Talk to me you fangless freak!”

Spike heaved a huge sigh of relief as his demon’s grief faded away and was replaced by the overwhelming urge to find and comfort his Mate, and his human face re-emerged. He tried to control his irritation as he turned back to regard the impatient young man and stammered, “I thought… I couldn’t feel her. The Bond… there was nothing there. My daft demon thought she was dead… then suddenly… she’s there again.” He gestured in the direction from which he could feel Buffy’s emotions. She was calming down and after a surge of profound relief a desperate determination was overriding all else. He shrugged. “Looks like the Bond doesn’t work between dimensions… but I don’t understand… how are you here? How is the Slayer here? What went wrong?”

As Xander began trying to explain what had happened, Spike got to his feet sheathed his sword and drew a big cleaver from an inside pocket of his duster and began hacking at the undergrowth, trying to create a path through the forest to get him closer to Buffy. He spoke over the garbled explanation and curtly ordered, “Come on Harris, lend a hand. The Slayer’s in this direction.”

“I’m not going to ask how you know that, it’s just too freaky, but I’m with you that we need to find the others.” Xander joined in the general destruction of vegetation as he flanked the vampire, swinging his axe as he continued his description of events back in Sunnydale after Spike had dived through the portal.

“As I said, you went in, and then Buffy shrieked your name and threw herself in after you. Tara tried to stop her by grabbing her, but she was pulled in too. Then the portal started going loopy and it kinda went creeping over to Dawn, and she tried to back away but she was being sucked in and I was trying to grab her. I caught her sleeve... and then everything went Hellmouthy and the next thing I knew I was crashing into a tree and there was this awful noise that was you!”

Spike paused in his frenzied movements and turned to Xander asking incredulously, “You tellin’ me we’re all here? My Li’l Bit too?” When Xander shrugged and nodded he closed his eyes in despair and murmured, “Bugger.” He tried to gather his scattered wits and thought for a moment, then nodding to himself he suggested, “First things first, gotta get to the Slayer, yeah? I can feel her. She’s coming to us as we’re going to her. We’ll meet in the middle somewhere. Then we’ll try to figure out how to find Niblet and the witch.”

For what seemed like hours they worked in silence which was only broken when one or other of them cursed as a branch whipped across his face or he tripped on a fallen log. Then they broke through into another small clearing. Spike strode straight across and resumed hacking at the undergrowth, but he soon paused when he realised Xander was no longer at his shoulder.

He turned around and saw the young man sitting slumped against a tree, his thick pea jacket on the grass beside him. He was wearily mopping his sweaty brow with the tail of his plaid flannel shirt and breathing heavily.

Spike straightened his aching back, leaned against a tree and sneered, “Feeling all that blubber, Doughboy? Come on, work some of it off!”

Xander looked up at him angrily. “It’s all very well for you, you peroxide pest, but I feel the heat! It was winter back home, I think it’s summer here. It’s very hot and I’m tuckered out!”

Spike heaved a resigned sigh and shrugged off his backpack, reaching into it for the bottle of water. He crossed the clearing again and handed it over suggesting, “Here… but don’t drink all of it, you might need to make it last.” As he watched Xander drinking thirstily, Spike realised that his small bottle of water wouldn’t last very long. If they were going to be trapped in this dimension for any time at all, finding food and water for his human companions was very soon going to become a major issue.

Abruptly his primary focus changed. He could sense that Buffy was gradually closing on their position, and now he knew that when she reached them she would also be hot and thirsty. Closing his eyes he concentrated his hearing, listening for any sounds of running water. If he could locate a source of water they could head for it. Buffy would be aware of their new direction and change course towards them. After a few moments he found he could hear nothing over the whisper of the breeze in the trees.

Assessing the trees around the clearing, Spike picked the tallest on the side from which they had emerged, and stood staring up at it. He noted the positions of the protruding branches and selected a course up the trunk towards a branch close to the top that jutted out into the clearing. He slipped out of his duster, unbuckled the baldric and carefully laid the sword on the grass, then stripped off his red shirt and kicked his boots off.

When he took the half-empty water bottle from his mouth Xander heaved a satisfied sigh, then looking up to see the vampire’s actions he frowned in bewilderment. “What are you doing now?”

Spike’s concentration remained focused upwards as he memorised the pattern of branches above him. Tree climbing was a hazardous pursuit for vampires because there were altogether too many opportunities for accidental encounters with sharp pieces of wood. He absently answered, “We need to find water. Gonna see if I can see a river or lake to head for. The Slayer will be able to find us wherever we are.”

Taking two paces to the left, Spike bent his knees and sprang upward, stretching up to grasp the first branch. Swinging his legs forward then back to build up momentum he pivoted around the branch until he was resting on his belly, then braced his weight on his arms and hopped up onto his feet. After taking a moment to steady himself he repeated the action several times until the branches got too close together and his progress was complicated by leafy sideshoots. He then edged towards the trunk and vamped out. Using his demonic claws, which he absently noted appeared much darker, longer and stronger than usual to grip the rough bark, he effortlessly shinned up through the thick canopy until he reached the branch he had targeted.

Stepping cautiously over and around the branching twigs he walked slowly out onto the springy limb until he was clear of the overhanging foliage. He deliberately placed his feet with his toe claws digging in to secure himself in place and maintain his balance, and paused to take in the view.

As far as the eye could see there was nothing but forest. The canopy had the appearance of following gently rolling hills and valleys, but there was no sign of any open ground at all. After rubbing his eyes to clear them, Spike began to make a painstaking survey of the scene, checking for any sign of the glinting of sunlight on water. After several minutes he still hadn’t found any obvious signs, then as his gaze followed a dip that seemed to trace a sinuous course through the blue-green expanse of forest, at last he glimpsed a telltale shimmer.

He concentrated for a moment to sense the direction from which Buffy was approaching, then calculated the point where their courses should intersect at what he was hoping was a river valley. He glanced down to see Xander standing in the sun in the centre of the clearing staring up at him, and called down, “Mark this direction, Harris!” And stretched his arm out, pointing at his chosen site. He saw the young man grab the emerald sword and lay it on the grass, glancing up several times to check as he adjusted the weapon until he got exactly the right angle.

Then Spike nearly fell out of the tree with shock. Xander was standing in the sunshine. He was standing in the centre of the clearing in exactly the same position he had stood himself to examine the tree, and he was standing in direct sunlight. He looked down at himself and discovered that one foot and his entire body from his waist upward were in the sun… and he wasn’t smoking. He wasn’t even uncomfortable. His customary vampire ‘sun sense’ tickle at the back of his neck was absent too. He giggled slightly hysterically at the discovery and gingerly reached out his hand into the glare, watching gleefully as the appendage steadfastly refused to burst into flames.

Laughing excitedly, Spike checked the positions of the branches below him and stepped off his perch. Braking his descent by clutching at an occasional limb before flipping and twisting acrobatically towards the next, Spike returned to ground level in a fraction of the time it had taken him to make the ascent, landing lightly on his feet a couple of yards in front of Xander. Ignoring the young man’s startled exclamations Spike stood with his arms flung out to the side and with his eyes closed turned his face to the sky, basking in warm sunshine for the first time since his brief excursion wearing the Gem of Amara over two years before.

When Xander persisted in his questions about Spike’s findings during his tree climbing expedition Spike growled, “Put a bloody sock in it, mate. Can’t you see I’m having a moment here?” He waved a hand casually at the sky. “Notice anything different about me today?”

It took Xander a few seconds to appreciate what Spike was talking about, then he spluttered and began to rant, “You’re in the sun! You’re a vampire! Why are you standing in the sun and not on fire? I am not comfortable with this development. Not comfortable at all! I think you should know this!”

Spike grinned, “I do!” He chuckled happily. “And I think it’s bloody marvellous!” Re-energised by his discovery, after carefully marking the direction his sword was pointing and locking it into his vampire senses Spike got dressed again and set off towards his new goal, once more hacking enthusiastically at the undergrowth. Xander shrugged resignedly and took his former position at the vampire’s shoulder, and soon they had resumed their easy rhythm and were making excellent progress once more.

After another hour or so they broke through into a narrow path beaten through the forest, and Spike paused, frowning. The path didn’t follow the direct line Spike had intended to follow, but it gently sloped down heading in the correct general direction, and one sure thing Spike knew about cross country travel was that if you travelled downhill long enough you were bound to find water sooner or later. Shrugging nonchalantly he turned to trot down the trail, calling for Xander to follow. He cheerfully added, “Got us a game trail, this is a very good sign!”

As he struggled to keep up Xander puffed, “Huh? Games? What games? Who’s playing games here? And are they games we’ll want to play?”

Spike snorted and muttered, “Ignorant townie…” Then he raised his voice and called back to the human who was rapidly falling further and further behind, “I’m talking about the kind of game you eat, you git! We’ve no idea how long we’re gonna be stuck here, but you’re gonna wanna eat, aren’t you?” He continued, musing in a nostalgic tone, “Not a lot better than a bit of wild boar roasted over a camp fire… after you’ve drained the hot fresh blood out of him.” He smacked his lips hungrily, “Mmm… Just love a bit of crackling!”

Hearing a faint cry in the distance, Spike stumbled to a halt and cocked his head, listening carefully. When Xander caught up with him he slumped to the ground leaning against a tree trunk and gasped, “Okay, glad to be stopped. Not needing to collapse from exhaustion. You’re gonna have to go a bit slower if you want me to be able to keep up, Fangface. No superpowers here, the Xanman is absolutely superpower free!”

Spike snarled in frustration, “Be quiet, you irritating lump of lard, I’m trying to listen! I think I heard something!”

When Xander protested that he didn’t take orders from Spike and continued complaining Spike growled angrily, “What part of ‘be quiet’ do you fail to understand, whelp? The ‘be’ or the ‘quiet’? For God’s sake shut up and let me listen, will you?”

As Xander sulkily subsided Spike heard the distant cry again and turned towards the sound, trying to gauge its source. He quietly asked, “Did you hear that?”

When Xander shook his head and sullenly muttered, “May I remind the evil undead that there are no superpowers here... no superspeed… no superstrength and no freaking superhearing either!”

Spike decided to take a chance on the vaguely familiar distant voice being friendly rather than hostile. He took a deep breath, stuck two fingers in his mouth and emitted a shrill wolf whistle. He concentrated again. He was rewarded with an instant response. This time he was certain the voice was female… and desperate. Whoever it was, was yelling, “Is there someone there? Help! Oh my Goddess! Will someone help me? Pleeease let there be someone there who can help me!”

“Right,” Spike said in a very determined tone. “Seems we’ve got a damsel in distress. Dunno whether it’s one of our girls, though. Could be.” He turned to Xander and asked, “You gonna come with, Harris? Or stay here to rest up and wait?”

Xander hastily scrambled to his feet. Trying to disguise his very obvious reluctance to be left alone he blustered, “You’re not going off in the forest alone, Bloodbreath! You’re evil! I’m not letting you out of my sight! I’m gonna stick to you like glue until we’ve found Buffy and figured out how to get home!”

Smirking knowingly, Spike nodded and drawled, “Right… good plan.” He raised his head and whistled again, this time a loud rising two tone sound that sounded interrogative.

When the mystery voice cried, “Over here! I’m over here!” Spike began fighting his way through the undergrowth again. He absently muttered, “Never really appreciated good paved roads before. Could quite happily go for a few more years without having to break my own trail again.”

Vampire and man worked quickly and efficiently to clear a path through the forest, with Spike pausing occasionally to whistle and receive a vocal reply so they could check their bearing. When he judged they had come close enough for his voice to be easily heard by human ears Spike shouted, “Forest rescue on the way! Keep talking, pet. Let us know where you are, we’re getting close!”

The response this time was from a very relieved young woman. “Spike? Spike? Is that really you? Oh Goddess, am I glad to hear your voice! I’m stuck! I can’t move!”

Despite the certainty that they were really close, Spike was still unable to locate the source of the voice, but now he was certain of its owner. After slashing through a few more yards he called, “We’re here, Tara petal. Where are you hiding yourself, now?”

With a weary sob the young Wicca cried, “I’m up here, Spike! I landed in this enormous tree and my leg hurts and I can’t hang on much longer and I can’t get down!”

Spike and Xander craned their necks looking up into the dense blue-greenery above their heads until Xander nudged Spike and pointed. He asked, “Is that a flash of yellow I can see way up there? What was Tara wearing?”

Squinting against the bright dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy Spike focused where Xander was pointing. He breathed, “Yeah, that’s her.” After heaving a deep sigh at the prospect of another tricky climb he turned to his companion and handing him his backpack he suggested, “Better get out the first aid kit, I can smell fresh blood. Leave the rest of the water for her too. If she’s been up there all this time…” He once more shrugged off his duster, the sword, his silk shirt and his boots.

Xander muttered his agreement and set about organising their meagre supplies and creating a comfortable area for Tara to rest in once Spike had retrieved her from her hazardous perch.

After spending a few moments examining the tree in question Spike called up, “I’m coming up for you, petal. Just hold on a few more minutes.”

This tree was cramped in among its fellows, so there were no handy open branches for Spike to leap up to grab the way there had been on the other one. This time he had to vamp out immediately and use his claws to grip the rough bark as he shinned up the trunk.

Tara had arrived in this dimension in a very awkward position. She was a good hundred feet up in the air, draped uncomfortably across two branches at different heights. Her arms were wrapped desperately around one sturdy branch which was wedged into her right armpit, while her legs were stretched up onto another branch more than four feet away and nearly two feet higher.

Spike carefully edged up under her and made sure all his claws were securely wedged deep into the bark before he took the time to assess the situation. Looking up he shook his head in wry amusement and joked, “Well, you have got yourself into a pretty pickle, haven’t you petal?”

Eyes widening in alarm, Tara sniffed her tears away and giggled, hysteria very close to the surface. She squeaked, “Oh! Hi Spike!”

Seeing her fearful expression Spike said, “Sorry about the fangs, love, but I need the claws…”

In a quavering voice she said, “Oh! Yeah… okay.” She looked embarrassed and admitted, “I used to be really good at climbing trees. I was always getting into trouble with my dad for torn clothes and skinned knees.” With a gasping catch in her voice she added, “The trees back home weren’t as big as these…”

Gently, Spike suggested, “Time to get you down now then.” He took in the nasty scrape on her cheek and a pattern of deep scratches on her leg where she had rubbed against the rough bark and reassured her, “Harris is waiting down there with some water and the first aid kit. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Turning slightly to present his back to her he told her, “Let go of that branch and wrap your arms around my neck, love. Then you can slide your legs off there and let me take your weight. No need to worry about strangling me, you just hold on as tight as you like and you’ll be safe on the ground before you know it.”

It took the terrified Wicca several tries before she felt confident enough to transfer her grip from the branch to the vampire’s neck, but finally with one frantic lunge she was clinging to his back. Her legs dangled free for a few moments before she took a couple of deep breaths and raised them so she was gripping his hips with her knees.

Spike slowly edged back down the tree, his fingers and toes becoming increasingly sore as his claws broke and tore under the strain of the extra weight. It seemed like hours until Xander’s voice urged Tara to let go of Spike and then led her, wobbly-kneed, to sit on the ground to rest. He handed her the bottle of water and she sat and sipped gratefully as the young man cleaned her scrapes and spread antiseptic ointment on them before wrapping a light bandage around the deepest scratch on her calf.

Spike sat and dug shreds of bark and splinters out from under his claws before subduing his demon and resuming his human face. He then frowned at his torn and bloody finger and toenails, but his expression cleared as they stopped hurting almost immediately and the split cuticles healed before his eyes.

After twenty minutes or so Spike decided the two young humans had had enough of a rest while they caught each other up on what had been happening, and began putting the rest of his clothes back on in preparation for setting out again. He observed, “The sun is beginning to get low in the sky. I’d like us to get to water before it gets dark. By my reckoning we should be there in about half an hour, and if the Slayer continues making as good time as she is, she’ll be with us in another hour or so.” He gazed blindly in the direction he could feel his Mate approaching from, noting her continued anxiety and frowning slightly he murmured under his breath, “I just hope she’s come across Dawn on the way.”

The three of them made their way back to the game trail Spike and Xander had been following and continued along it. This time Spike set an easier pace to allow for Tara’s sore leg, which was making her limp slightly, but it didn’t take long for them to emerge onto a gently sloping meadow beside a wide, fast flowing river.

It appeared that one large tree had been toppled, bringing several smaller ones with it to form a wide clearing, and when the local wildlife had found the open space conveniently close to a suitable watering place they had grazed the resulting regrowth keeping the grassy bank clear. There were many varieties of hoof and paw prints in the mud at the water’s edge, showing that it was a popular drinking spot.

Spike retrieved all his knives from the concealed inner pockets of his duster and laid them aside, then slipped it off. He spread it out as a groundsheet on the grass beside one of the fallen tree trunks to act as a backrest for the wilting Tara then he tossed Xander his lighter and suggested the young man should find some dry wood and build a campfire. “Make sure you’re not right under any trees, Harris. We don’t want to start a forest fire.” He then strode to a place where a large rock stuck up out of the water creating a perfect viewing platform, leaped up onto it and gazed down into the eddy that had formed a deep pool in its shadow.

Xander snarked, “And what will Spikey the wonder vamp be doing while I’m slaving away doing all the work, huh?”

Grinning happily as he quickly stripped and cast his clothes and boots back onto the grass, Spike answered, “I’m gonna be catching your supper, whelp. Hope you like fish…” And with that he deliberately expelled all the air from his lungs, casually stepped off the rock and dropped like a stone into the water.

After he’d been sitting absolutely still on the riverbed for twenty minutes or so the local denizens had forgotten their shock at his intrusion and began tentatively investigating the new arrival in their midst. Tiny crustaceans nibbled at his fingers and toes, one brave leech-like creature attempted to attach itself to his left eyeball until a rapid series of blinks frightened it off, and then the larger creatures ventured out of their hiding places.

Gently fluttering his fingers in imitation of drifting weeds or wriggling worms, Spike baited a couple of huge fish whose long whiskers either side of their gaping mouths gave them the appearance of mildly deformed catfish. They were each approaching three feet long and Spike reckoned that between them they would provide a good supper for his human companions, with more than enough left over for breakfast.

In one swift movement Spike hooked his fingers through the gills of the two fish, thrust up onto his feet and by pushing off strongly surged to the surface. As he did so he brought his arms around above his head and flung the fish onto the grassy bank where they were greeted with twin shrill cries of squeamish surprise.

He swam a few lazy strokes into shallow water, paused to shake his head sending drops of water spraying in all directions, then waded out of the river and wandered casually over to his pile of clothing. He snatched up his black t-shirt and blotted the water off his bottom half then tugged on his jeans. He looked over to see the fish still flopping about. The two humans were sitting looking blankly between him and his catch, and neither was making any move towards the fish, one of which was dangerously close to flipping itself straight back into the river.

Shaking his head in disgust he grabbed a rock and gave each of the fish a series of sharp blows to the head until they were still, then examined the camp fire that Xander had just managed to light. It wasn’t really a bad attempt at all, so he nodded and gestured for him to continue and turned to Tara. With his head cocked to one side in consideration he asked, “I figure you for a country girl, Pickle. D’ya think you could do something with the fin twins here?”

Tara nodded wordlessly. Failing to understand why both of them were both simply gaping speechlessly at him Spike shrugged and sauntered off towards the tree line on the far side of the clearing. He could feel Buffy coming and now she wasn’t very far away at all. She was tired and worried and still a bit scared and he was impatient to take her in his arms. He’d missed her. He struck a pose with his bare feet apart and his thumbs hooked into his belt, and concentrated expectantly on the spot where she was due to emerge.

While he was waiting he let his mind wander freely and found himself pondering his recent actions.

Damn, he thought, why had he looked after that irritating pillock Xander Harris when he came across him? Now the chip was gone he could have fed on him and left his drained carcass for the local scavengers to enjoy. Nobody would ever have known. He was moderately dismayed to realise that the possibility had never even occurred to him.

Why had he gone out of his way to rescue Tara even before he knew it was she who was in trouble? It could have turned out to be a perfect stranger that he had no feelings for whatever, but again the possibility of just ignoring someone who was pleading for assistance had never crossed his mind.

Above all why had he allowed himself to get distracted from finding Buffy and made it his first priority to find water and food for the humans?

He glanced back over his shoulder to see them crouched beside the cheerful little fire as they fiddled with chunks of fish and sharp sticks. Giles had said he was part of the team now. Is that what he really wanted? Surely the only reason he tolerated these frail humans was so that he could stay close to Buffy and Dawn.

Wasn’t it?

He chewed his bottom lip as he considered. Since the Initiative’s efforts had made it impossible for him to hunt and feed the natural way, he had become more and more immersed in the small everyday rituals that dominated human lives. He had been compelled to socialise with them simply to get the necessities of unlife; blood, booze, smokes and entertainment.

He forced himself to face the fact that the main reason he had hung around the Scoobies in the beginning was for the company. They had given him something to hang on to, even if it was only the possibility of getting under their skins. Even an angry reaction from someone who hated you was better than having nobody acknowledge your existence.

He hated being on his own with nobody to depend on and nobody needing him for anything. Looking back he grudgingly acknowledged that the only reason he had ever hooked up with that airhead Harmony was because he had been lonely. Even though she had been stupid and annoying her inane prattle had been better than silence.

The sex had been fun too.

After his misguided attempt at convincing Buffy of his feelings with that disastrous episode with Dru and the chains, when he’d been left completely alone and any hope of a relationship with Buffy had all but died, he must have gone just a little bit crazy. That was the only explanation he could come up with for the ‘bot.

He looked down at his feet as he wriggled his toes in the grass reluctantly admitting the fact that he had always felt the need to be needed. For over a century he had subconsciously blocked out any hint that Drusilla hadn’t loved him the way he had loved her simply because she needed him, and that had made him feel good. It had made him feel as if he had a purpose, as if he had a place in the world. When she had left him and then the chip had crippled him he had been alone and totally aimless for the first time since he’d been turned, and he had hated it.

He heaved a huge resigned sigh when he accepted that he had always needed, and always would need, someone to take care of. First it had been his little sisters, then his ailing mother, then Dru, and now it was Buffy and Dawn and by extension the rest of the Scoobies.

Yeah, he wanted to be part of the team. He longed to be welcomed into the unique pseudo-family that Buffy Summers had gathered around her. Humans weren’t just food to him any more, cattle to be preyed upon and culled when required. He’d spent so much time among them that many of them had acquired individual personalities. What was wrong on so many levels was that for the last couple of years increasing numbers of people had been creeping onto his ‘I don’t really want to kill you even if I could’ list. Somehow it wouldn’t feel right to eat someone he knew. On top of that, in the last few weeks a frightening number had somehow managed to get themselves transferred to his ‘I feel the need to protect you’ list.

Without the chip his problem would be resisting the temptation to eat complete strangers who pissed him off, now that he knew that he could. He decided that he should always try to remember to eat before he went out, to keep his demon quiet.

He absently listened to the crashing and rustling in the undergrowth in front of him as he concluded he had finally accepted the inevitable outcome of his love for the Slayer. He simply wasn’t very interested in being evil any more. He wanted to be more like a man. A good man. He wanted to become the kind of man she deserved.

He was jolted out of his introspection… (and no, he mentally protested, he had not been brooding. He’d been... pondering. It was a whole different vibe) …when the foliage directly in front of him shook violently and then parted to reveal his Slayer. His eyes flew over her figure checking for injuries. Seeing nothing more than scrapes and bruises and not sensing the slightest hint of Slayer blood on the air he cocked his head to one side and smirked, “Hello cutie!” Then he curled his tongue behind his top teeth and gave her a twitch of his scarred eyebrow.

She stood there for a moment, swaying slightly as she stared at him. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face was smudged and sweaty, her leather skirt had been roughly hacked off several inches above her muddy knees, and her bare arms were scratched and filthy. He thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

She suddenly dropped her axe at her side, shrugged out of the backpack that had her sweater and coat knotted around it and launched herself at him. Spike just had time to take his hands from his belt and brace himself before her arms wrapped themselves around his waist and she was sobbing into his chest. “I thought I’d lost you… You jumped and suddenly the Bond was gone… I couldn’t feel you… I didn’t think… I just had to find you!”

Abruptly Buffy’s legs gave way and together they sank to the ground, grasping frantically at each other and sharing sloppy tearful kisses. When Buffy had to break away to breathe Spike drew her into his lap and they simply held each other and nuzzled and kissed their marks, both giving and receiving comfort from the contact.

After a few moments Buffy hesitantly admitted, “Spike…? I’ve done something very stupid haven’t I? I’m not supposed to be here am I?”

“No, Slayer sweetheart,” Spike murmured in regretful agreement, “You’re really not.”

She fiddled nervously with a jagged bit of leather at the hem of her skirt, stuck her bottom lip out and gave him her best puppydog eyes and plaintively complained, “And why did you stop? You were coming towards me and then you stopped and then you went sideways and then you started coming towards me again and then you stopped again!”

Spike gestured over his shoulder towards the campfire where Tara and Xander were sitting pretending they weren’t watching them, and pointed out, “Had to take a detour to pick up a couple of minions…”

“Minions?” Buffy looked bewildered for a moment as she peered across the clearing, darkening now the sun had sunk below the horizon. Incredulously she breathed, “Tara? Xander? But how…?”

Getting up and pulling her to her feet Spike suggested, “Come on, Slayer. You need to get cleaned up. Supper’s cooking and while we’re eating we can sit and figure out what to do.” Walking towards the fire he held her tightly to his side as he gently told her, “I’m afraid Dawn’s here somewhere too. Harris tried to stop her being pulled into the portal but it seems that where two of us goes the third has to follow. No sign of her yet.”

Huge terrified eyes were turned up at him and she cried, “Dawn’s lost?” She closed her eyes, leaned into him and despairingly pleaded, “Oh God! What have I done?”

Hearing her last words, Tara tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, Buffy. We’ll find her. Then she can just make another portal and we’ll all go home.” She took Buffy’s hand as Spike settled her on his duster next to the honey blonde and explained, “I’m a bit too tired at the moment, but after I’ve had some sleep I can do a little spell that will lead us right to her.”

Xander looked up from where he was turning the chunks of pale pink fish that were toasting on green sticks beside the fire, and asked, “Oh, you mean that little Tinkerbell light you used the night we… um… the night Willow and I were lost in the woods?” When Tara smiled and nodded he confidently asserted, “It’s brilliant, Buffy. It’s this cute little twinkly light that floats in the air in front of us as a guide. We’ll just play follow my leader and we’ll find her in no time.”


******


Spike stood waist deep in the river, scrubbing the blood off. He’d forgotten how messy the process could get and was relieved he’d thought to take his jeans off first. He poked at a tuft of bristly hair that had got stuck between his fangs until it came loose and he could spit it out, then rinsed his mouth out to make sure he didn’t have bloodbreath.

He turned to check on the three figures bundled in little cocoons arranged in a triangle around the fire and nodded to himself in satisfaction when he saw that none of them had stirred. Once the sun had set the blazing heat had quickly bled from the air leaving them all shivering, so they huddled as close as they could to the fire’s comforting warmth.

He ducked his head under one more time then after shaking the loose water off, he waded out of the river and padded up the bank towards the fire. He crouched down and carefully built up the blaze, then turned the sticks bearing the three skewered carcasses he’d cleaned and skinned, to make sure they were cooking evenly. Standing up again he took up a scrap of his black t-shirt that had been drying in the heat from the fire and dried as much of himself as was possible. Such a versatile garment it had turned out to be. It had been torn up and the various parts used as washcloths, towels and general cleaning rags.

They’d stuffed themselves with the tasty fish, each of them suffering burnt fingers and tongues in the process. Buffy had protested she wasn’t hungry, her anxiety stealing her appetite, but Spike had made sure she ate. Every time she opened her mouth to express her guilt over their accidental arrival here, or suggested another possible scenario in which something terrible happened to Dawn before the could find her, he popped a chunk of the toasted flesh into her mouth earning himself irritated glares in the process until she shook her head in amused resignation, accepted the inevitable and began eating on her own.

Then the three humans had all succumbed to exhaustion. Spike suspected that Buffy’s collapse had had more to do with worry about Dawn than physical tiredness. Every few minutes she had jumped up and paced about giving off waves of guilt and agitated frustration, anxious to set out in search of her sister. Eventually she had been convinced to wait until daylight when all of them would be able to see to break their way through the forest. The three of them had finally curled up under their coats to sleep, and Spike had been left to stand watch.

He had been supposed to wake Buffy after a few hours so she could take the second shift, but she was so tense she had taken a long time to relax sufficiently to drop off. Since he was still high on Slayer blood he hadn’t felt the need to sleep, he didn’t usually need more than a couple hours a day nowadays anyway. In fact he’d had more sleep since moving in with Buffy than he'd had for years. The luxury of being able to snuggle up in a warm comfortable bed either with her or surrounded by her scent had been irresistible. Now, however, he recognised that if he was going to be slashing his way through the forest all day he was going to need to take a nap before they set out.

He had been bored out of his mind without even a cigarette to break the monotony of keeping watch on such a quiet night, until the herd of odd little animals had arrived. He’d passed some of the time doing a couple of hundred crunches and a hundred sit-ups. He’d been neglecting his usual regime for too long, and if he was going to be helping Buffy train he would need to keep trim. Soon after he’d got the chip he’d discovered that pig’s blood had a much higher fat content than human, which come to think of it probably explained why Angel had gained so much weight in the last few years. Spike had had to step up his workout to keep his abs and pecs as firm as he liked. It would never do to start getting flabby. Even though his physical strength depended more upon his age and lineage than his muscles he still had his image to maintain. He couldn’t remember having seen Buffy train with weights but he made a mental note to see if there were any in the training room at the Magic Box that he could work out with.

He had even spent some time climbing a tree and lying back on a thick branch to ponder the presence of three moons as he scanned the horizon for any traces of lights that may have indicated Dawn’s location, or possibly the presence of local inhabitants. There had been nothing to break up the pale moonlit panorama.

He’d thoroughly enjoyed the distraction of a hunt, even going so far as to purposely startle the weird little animals into running back up the game trail before setting out in pursuit, to enhance the thrill of the chase. It had almost felt like old times.

He picked his jeans up from where he had dropped them when he had seen the herd trotting down to the water’s edge to drink, and began to pull them on. He had one foot in when a low moan drew his attention to where Buffy was twitching and jerking in her sleep tucked up under her coat, and he immediately changed his mind.

Silently he worked his way around the fire and knelt behind Buffy. Carefully he eased the edge of her knitted coat from underneath her hip and lay down spooned against her back, pulling the coat over himself in the process. He ran his fingers up her thigh and teased her skirt up over her hip, then wrapped his arms around her and eased her back against him. She flinched slightly and gave a sleepy whimper of complaint as his chilled body came in contact with her warm skin, but after a few seconds she heaved a contented little sigh and relaxed back into him.

He nuzzled at her neck as he stroked her belly and nudged his hardness into her bottom causing her to give a little wriggle and press back against him. Spike inhaled deeply taking in the heady aroma of sun heated skin and clean sweat seasoned with woodsmoke. For the first time he could remember there were no artificial perfumes disguising Buffy’s own unique scent and he closed his eyes and luxuriated in pure Slayer musk.

Nibbling at his mark caused her to shift and rub against him, aggravating his urgent need. Panting slightly he carefully lifted her upper leg over his thigh and eased between her legs. Slowly he slid back and forth along her slick crease before nudging at her warm moist entrance. His attempt to prolong the teasing pleasure was thwarted when Buffy moaned quietly, tilted her hips and thrust back into his lap.

Suddenly he was home. Suppressing a groan of delight he splayed his hand on her belly to hold her in place and began to rock his hips slowly, continuing to lick and nuzzle at her neck as he gradually worked himself further into her welcoming heat until he was buried to the hilt.

All at once Buffy stirred in his arms and he realised she was waking up. Huskily he murmured into her ear, “Mornin’ darlin’.”

Buffy stretched sensuously sending one hand to clutch at his hip to hold him tight against her, and drowsily murmured, “Oooh, sexy alarm call…” and began tensing and relaxing her inner muscles around him as he moved within her.

Then after a few minutes of absent-minded enjoyment she abruptly went rigid and hissed, “What are you doing?”

Spike snorted softly into her neck and muttered teasingly, “If you’re asking me that… I must be doing it wrong!”

She batted at his hip and whispered furiously, “That’s not what I meant! I mean… We’re not alone! Xander and Tara are right there! We can’t…” Despite her protest she continued her internal massage of him as she moved her hips in time with his thrusts.

Spike hissed in protest, “’Course we bloody can! Use your ears, Buffy. Listen to their breathing and heartbeats, they’re both fast asleep. As long as you don’t start screaming they’ll be none the wiser.” He nipped at his mark before plaintively adding, “I needed you to wake up and stand watch for a couple of hours so I could have a nap before it got light… but I was so hard for you… wouldn’t be able to sleep for wanting you…”

Buffy shook her head slowly and chuckled softly, “I don’t know… what am I to do with you?”

Spike squeezed her tightly and teased, “Could give you a few suggestions if you like, darlin’.”

She turned her head for an awkward kiss and murmured affectionately, “Spike! You’re incorrigible! Don’t you ever think of anything else?”

Speeding up his movements slightly as a reaction to her tantalising Slayer muscles, Spike admitted, “Not when I’m holdin’ you, no.”

For the next several minutes there were no sounds other than the rushing of the river, the cracking of the fire, the whisper of the breeze in the trees and a muffled chorus of low moans and whimpers. Their lovemaking was slow and languid and built gradually to a mutual release that elicited quiet satisfied grunts and gasps rather than frantic screams or roars.

With his hips still rolling gently as he recovered, Spike’s eyes began to drift closed. He cuddled Buffy close and snuffled into her hair, only to be disturbed when she carefully disengaged from him. She turned and kissed him, then whispered, “I’m gonna need my coat, Spike. Put your jeans back on.” Sleepily he struggled into his jeans. When he fumbled the buttons Buffy bent over him and finished fastening his fly, then she handed him her sweater. “Here... use this as a pillow.”

She stood and put her coat on as she scanned the clearing, checking for threats and then back down at Spike who pointed to the fire mumbling, “Keep an eye on breakfast, darlin’.” His front was warm from absorbing her body heat, so he rolled over and turned his chilled back to the fire, buried his face in the sweater that was redolent with her scent and was instantly fast asleep.


******


Now that they had eaten their fill of roast meat and cleared away the evidence of their camp, they were all set to go in search of Dawn. Tara sat cross-legged beside the cooling remains of the campfire. Closing her eyes she began her quiet plea, “Aradia, hear my words...”

Spike didn’t listen to the incantation, he was having trouble getting everything into his backpack. It appeared that he had been delegated the pack mule for the group. As soon as the sun had risen the heat of the previous afternoon had returned so Xander’s and Tara’s coats had to be tucked away with his bloodbags, the first-aid kit and water bottle. Buffy had chosen to carry leaf-wrapped bundles of cooked fish and meat in her pack with her coat and sweater and the scraps of Spike’s t-shirt. She also had two juice bottles that had been refilled from the river and her remaining bottle of juice.

Startled squeals had Spike automatically drawing his emerald sword. He spun around to locate the danger, only to find Buffy and Xander flinching away and Tara flat on her back in astonishment as her ‘Tinkerbell light’ materialised as a roaring ball of fire over a foot wide.

It took a few seconds for Tara to recover her composure, then she murmured a few words and the fireball shrank and vanished with a loud pop. Stunned, she stammered her apologies and explained that it seemed that her power had inexplicably increased enormously.

Xander brightly commented, “This is a good thing… right? You’re Superwitch now, Tara. Please tell me this is a good thing?”

“I-I don’t know…” Tara replied, hesitantly. “I’m not used to having this much power. Willow’s the strong one and look what it did to her. I don’t want to…”

Buffy interrupted, “Tara… You’re. Not. Willow. You’ve had more experience with magic and you’ve always shown more respect for the rules than Will has. Please don’t be scared. A lot of things seem to be different here… look at Spike! He’s standing in the sun and staying all unburny! When we get home I expect you’ll be back to normal, so why not make the most of the extra power while we’re here and see just what you can do? You never know, it might make all the difference in finding Dawnie.”

While Tara practised a calming breathing exercise in preparation for a second try Xander quietly commented to Buffy, “That’s not the only thing that’s different here. Spike’s fangface for one. Have you seen it yet? It’s way freaky.”

Upon hearing that, Spike looked up to meet Buffy’s eyes. Each of them had one questioning eyebrow raised. Buffy approached him and reached a hand up to stroke his forehead. She asked, “Show me…”

Spike cautiously vamped out and watched Buffy’s expression, waiting for her reaction. Her mouth made a wide O of surprise as she gently traced the bumps and ridges of his forehead with her fingers. She breathed, “Beautiful…” Then smiling, she took one of his hands in hers and lifted it suggesting, “Feel for yourself.”

Spike gingerly felt around his face finding that the ridged area that was usually confined to his nose and eyebrow region had expanded to include his entire forehead and stretched back into his hairline above his ears. Buffy guided his hand to his mouth and said, “Feel your fangs, they’re all long and tusky…” She grinned and with a suggestive twitch of her eyebrows added, “I wonder which other bits of you are different… I’ll have to have a look later…”

Chuckling wickedly, Spike bent to give her a very careful kiss and whispered, “Anytime you wanna check out my bits, just say the word, darlin’”

Ten minutes later Tara repeated her spell, taking great care to use her power sparingly, and produced a floating light only slightly larger than usual. Then Buffy took the lead slashing at the undergrowth with Tara at her shoulder wielding her kukri, as they followed the guide bobbing ahead of them that would hopefully lead them to Dawn. Xander and Spike followed, prepared to take their turn at breaking the trail when the girls needed a break.

TBC

A/N:
I’m sorry this is taking so long. What with my Open University course and the muse taking an unauthorised sabbatical, progress has been slow. I am however progressing… slowly but surely… Please be patient with me. And you know what? Reviews certainly keep the muse happy… and a happy muse is a productive muse.