Schehrezade's Challenge

Schehrezade’s Challenge
By: RSK

Disclaimer: Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here-in, excluding original characters which are owned solely by the author, are the property of their individual copyright holders. These include Joss Whedon and others. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Dark Fic, Graphic Sex and Character Death(s)

A/N: OK. Here’s the story behind this one. My beloved Madame S challenged me to write her a Spuffy fic. The challenge is at the end of the story. I have never written a Spuffy on my own before, and she felt that I needed to do it at least once. Spander fans, please, do not persecute me over what I do for love…

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Spike looked over at the blonde beauty lounging in the doorway. The Slayer had appeared suddenly in the waning sunlight and he was trapped in his seat, restrained by the deadly beams that danced around him.

Buffy grinned at the expression on Spike’s face. She knew he would like this. Her lithe figure was adorned head to toe in black leather. It had taken an hour to wiggle into the material, but the look she was receiving made it all worth it.

Buffy sauntered forward, forcing Spike to hunch down in his chair to avoid the sun that was following Buffy into the room. He could see her muscles moving sinuously in the soft leather that fitted against her skin.

A moan escaped Buffy’s lips as she saw the desire grow in Spike’s eyes. He was so easy to read. His eyes emptied into her soul and she could feel his heat and passion rushing through her veins.

Today was the day. Today they were completing the mating ritual that had begun over a month ago. It was torture. Spike had gone to Angel, collecting the information they needed to become a mated pair. The ritual itself was grueling; they were required to be together, yet not touch.

Spike had fed from Buffy on four separate occasions over the last month. Each phase of the moon was celebrated with an orgasm brought on by thoughts and feelings rather than physical contact. But tonight…

Buffy peered at Spike through her eyelashes, judging the time by the shadows that were slowly lengthening on the opposite wall. If they timed this incorrectly, the ritual would be void and they would have to start again. There was no way that they would make it through another month and a half.

Finally, the light faded completely and Spike launched himself from his chair, capturing Buffy’s lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue fought hers for dominance and the pair danced across the floor, blissfully aware of only each other.

Leather ripped under forceful, pale hands as Spike removed all obstacles keeping him from Buffy’s warm flesh.

No words were spoken, that too was ritualistic. The last month had been spent learning each other’s unconscious signals. Spike felt completely naked in front of Buffy now. He knew that she could see his soul as clearly as he could see hers. He knew that she no longer believed that demons did not have souls. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him.

His clothes were disappearing as quickly as hers. Spike could smell her arousal and excitement. Something nudged the corner of his mind and he knew that one of the Scoobies was approaching. He growled lowly. They knew better!

He swung Buffy around and moved them towards the open doorway. He slammed it shut and locked it firmly against any possible intrusions. Spike and Buffy had discussed this once they had learned what was involved in the ritual. No matter what, when the original phase of the moon came once again, no intrusions would be allowed.

Buffy fell to her knees before Spike, knowing that neither of them would last long. She drew his hard length into her mouth and he thrust forward violently, seeking out her heat. She gagged and slapped his thigh and he looked down at her apologetically. Buffy grinned at Spike and rose to her feet, dragging him to the bed that they had prepared earlier in the week.

Buffy lay back on the bed and Spike dove at her, immediately dipping his head down to taste her. The moment his tongue touched her, Buffy felt her orgasm rush to the surface. There was no need for foreplay; she yanked Spike up her body, impaling herself on his length.

They moaned in unison and Spike began thrusting into her depths. As they m tow towards their orgasms, someone began pounding on their door. They looked at each other in panic, silently agreeing to continue. A few more moments and the ritual would be complete.

Spike leaned in and licked a line up Buffy’s throat, nuzzling at the mark that he had left. Spike had been careful not to eradicate his grandsire’s mark on Buffy’s neck. It was his way of showing respect, of showing his acknowledgement that his grandsire had gifted Buffy to him.

Suddenly, Spike’s head shot up and all movement ceased. Buffy struggled beneath him, finally pulling at his chin to force him to look at her. What she saw in his cerulean eyes shot a quiver of fear through her heart. He sniffed the air, smelling blood and recognizing its source. Tears filled his eyes and he began thrusting into Buffy again.

Buffy watched, confused, while Spike pounded into her. Tears were now flowing freely down his face. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he reached down and began manipulating her clit. The stimulation was too much for Buffy’s neglected body and she came with a shudder. Spike rode out her orgasm, relishing the pulsing of her walls around his length. As his own orgasm overtook him, he leaned in and sank his fangs into his mark, drinking deeply of Buffy’s powerful blood.

He pulled away and Buffy caressed his face, wondering what was so troubling to her mate. His demosagesage, so familiar and beautiful, was marred by the trails of tears that were soaking into his skin. Her blood dripped from his mouth as he raised his wrist to his fangs and sliced it open, offering it to Buffy.

She attached her lips to his wrist, drinking deeply. She could feel the power and pain in his blood and Buffy began to cry, finally understanding why her mate was so upset. Spike took a breath and opened his mouth to speak.

“I, William the Bloody, also known as Spike, do bind myself to you, Buffy Anne Summers, for all eternity. I am yours and you are mine.”

Buffy took a shaky breath and tried to speak clearly through her gasps. “I, Buffy Anne Summers, do bind myself to you, William the Bloody, also known as Spike, for all eternity. I am yours and you are mine.”

As the last words crossed her lips, the pair sprung from the bed and raced to the doorway. On the front steps of the motel room lay Dawn and Xander. Neither moved, although Spike could hear Xander’s heart beating weakly.

Buffy collapsed at her sister’s side, uncaring that she was nude and that Spike’s seed was dripping down her legs. She pulled Dawn’s exquisite corpse into her arms and rocked her gently.

“Why?” Buffy’s wail rang across the parking lot. Spike extended an arm and patted her soothingly as he began pulling off Xander’s clothes, using the torn material to clean the multiple stab wounds that covered the brunette’s body.

Buffy pulled herself to her feet and lifted Dawn tenderly, laying her out on the floor of the room and pressing a kiss to her forehead before covering her with a sheet. She went back out to help Spike wrestle Xander into the room. They placed the young man on the bed and began trying to patch up what wounds they could. They soon realized that Xander’s ns wns were too badly damaged to repair.

The two looked across their friend’s failing body, knowing that their efforts would all be for naught. They had already lost Angel, Willow, Giles, Dawn and, in a few moments, Xander, to the fight against the Seeker. Their entire team was gone. Only two were left. Anya had fled from the Seeker’s wrath, finding comfort in the arms of D’Hoffren and Tara was in critical condition at Sunnydale Memorial. The doctors had informed them months ago that the blonde beauty would never again awaken.

Spike watched as Xander struggled to force air into his punctured lungs, wishing tha cou could do something to alleviate his friend’s desperate pain. Long ago, Xander had made Spike promise that he not be kept alive when all hope was lost.

He had made Spike promise.

Spike looked into his mate’s eyes and Buffy nodded only once. Spike leaned in and tenderly pierced Xander’s throat, drawing the essence of the man into his own body. He could taste the joy, lightness and peace that was Xander. He continued to drink until Xander’s heart stopped completely,ssinssing a kiss to the cooling flesh before raising his head again.

“Let’s go.” Buffy’s soft voice filtered through Spike’s pain and the pair pulled on their clothes, walking out of the room into the darkness of the night. They climbed onto Spike’s procured motorcycle, ignoring the ravaged landscape that they had once considered home.

Retreat was the only option.

When their bond was strong enough, they might be able to face the Seeker without fear, but for now they were too weak, too new. Angel had instructed them in the ritual, hoping that someday they would grow to love each other and, in that love, learn the secret to rid the world of its destructor.

The End

The Challenge: I want you to write me a Spuffy fic (cos you haven’t written a solo Spuffy one yet – yes, yes Family is kinda Spuffy but it’s more a vamp’s love for his car than his Slayer) – a nice fluffy one – happily ever after – a wee dash of angst and a major Scoobie death – NOT Tara. I wants a RSK Spuffy fic, please!

A/N: Well, shit. I didn’t get the challenge right. This is not a fluffy fic, so I guess Schehrezade will make me try again. I really did try! This is just what came out! Argh!!!