Chapter 2
Buffy had known he was there from the moment Whistler had pulled her into this dimension. How not? She could feel that unique tingle of vamp presence that was his signature, feel that blue gaze watching her. Oh, there was a difference in that gaze right now. It wasn’t that intense look full of warmth and love and devotion that she had always seen, but deliberately chosen to ignore and reject. No, this look was cool and mocking and amused as he watched her.
Even knowing that they were enemies right now made no difference to her. After more than a year of mourning him, she desperately needed to touch him, couldn’t have stopped herself from putting her arms around him even if she had tried.
She felt the jolt of shock and amazement go through him as she kissed him. Then his mouth opened unthinkingly to hers. And there it was. Their tongues meeting, the taste of him, the scent of him, that cool strong body vibrant against her. The totality of him, solid and alive, real under her hands, after all those long months of loss.
Oh, it wasn’t the same. This Spike didn’t love her. She knew that. But there had always been that heat between them, that unacknowledged throb of sexual awareness, right from the beginning. Offered sex, he would take it. Spike was a sensualist. And she wanted him, wanted his body against her, on her, in her, would take anything that she could get.
Their lips parted and she saw the astonishment in his face, saw also the involuntary arousal in his startled eyes. She turned him on, always had, her own Spike had told her once. She ran her hand lightly down his torso, hidden from the others, across his chest, over his stomach, laid her palm deliberately upon his navel, the heel of her hand pressing just above the low slung belt of his jeans. His eyes widened and he looked down in surprise. Then she saw the wicked laughter flare in his eyes, the flickering glance of hilarious amusement he cast the others. He knew what she was offering and was perfectly ready to accept.
His hands closed on her upper arms, drawing her to him. Their lips met again, mouths twisting together, passion flaring, tongues sliding and thrusting, an exploration for him, a rediscovery of delight for her.
There was a lot of shouting and yelling going on behind her. They broke apart reluctantly and Buffy turned to look at all the appalled and furious faces. She was determined to begin as she meant to go on here; that’s why she was being so upfront about it. No secrets, no hiding in shadows and back alleys this time, everything out in the open. Willow, Tara and Anya were looking stunned, Giles horrified, Xander enraged. Angel and Riley were predictably looking murderous.
“Hey, chill, everybody,” she said lightly. “Spike and I. We’re lovers in the other dimension.”
“No!” howled Xander. “You can’t be!”
“Well, we are. Suck it up and deal, guys.”
“No! We won’t let you!”
“Are you under some delusion that you can tell me what to do, Xander? The other Buffy might have taken that shit. I won’t.”
“Not with him!” snarled Angel dangerously, jerking towards Spike. Spike stepped immediately forward to meet him, his eyes lighting up.
“Come on, wanker,” he said exultantly. “You I can fight. Been waiting a long time for this.”
“Knock it off, you two!” Buffy said sharply.
“Buffy!” Angel roared.
“Surely you can let guests amuse themselves in their own little way, pet,” said Spike silkily.
“No. You’re not going to kill each other. I’ve got other plans for you, Spike,” she purred.
He laughed involuntarily. Faces went red either in embarrassment or in fury around the room.
“Okay, that’s it,” said Angel and moved purposefully towards Spike.
“Touch Spike and I stake you, Angel,” said Buffy flatly.
Angel jerked to a stop and stared at her disbelievingly. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me. I’d do it in a heartbeat. You let him die in the other dimension, Angel. The way I feel about you right now, I’d be happy for any excuse.”
“If he won’t do it, I will,” yelled Riley and charged at Spike, the stake he had snatched from Giles’s weapons chest raised high above his head.
Spike spun smoothly to one side. Before Riley could recover and change direction, Buffy caught him by the throat. She lifted him with one hand and flung him with all her strength across the room. He struck the wall with a thud and fell heavily.
“Oh, that felt really satisfying,” Buffy said. “Vamp hos and ultimatums and Sam turning up like that just so you can rub my face in the ‘happy couple’ thing. Not liking you much either, Riley. The normal guy. Yeah, right.” She gave Angel a scornful glance. “You and your normal. Found out what that’s worth.”
“What?” said Riley blankly from the floor. “What?”
“Doesn’t matter what drugs you take, Riley. I can whup your ass anytime. And, if you ever do anything to Spike, I will. I’ll break you in half. That’s a promise.”
Everybody was staring at her in amazement and incredulity. Even Spike was. She grinned at all of them.
“You...” Words seemed to be beyond Giles. He gulped, then recovered himself with an effort. “Buffy, why are you acting this way? No one means you any harm here. You’re acting as if we’re your enemies and we’re not. We’re your friends!”
“Friends respect each other, Giles. And you haven’t respected me. You go around telling me what to do, using emotional blackmail and guilt trips and outright force sometimes by spells and things to make me do what you want. You never care what I might want. You might not mean any harm, Giles, but you cause harm. I’m through with that. Do you think I don’t remember what it was like four years ago when I was the equivalent of your Buffy? The kind of pressure you used to put on me? Well, this Buffy is mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore. This Buffy is four years older and an adult. This Buffy is her own woman.”
“This Buffy...” Giles swung around. “Whistler!”
But Whistler was gone, having taken the opportunity to sneak out when the fracas started.
Buffy laughed. “New regime, Giles. This Buffy is the only one you’ve got now. Oh, the PTB will be working on bringing your Buffy back. But it’ll be a while, the way I understand it. The only one you’ve got right now is me. And I’m not gonna take any shit from anyone. Capisce?”
She glanced at Spike and tilted her head towards the front door. He nodded and slid quietly out. In the state of shock that everyone was under, nobody noticed him go.
“Right. Giles, does my Mom know what’s happened to this dimension’s Buffy?”
Giles shook his head dumbly.
“Well, I want to see her. So you’re going to have to come along and explain things to her. Give me five minutes, then we’ll go over to Revello Drive. Talk amongst yourselves till then, people.” She laughed. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Spike was waiting for her in the little courtyard outside Giles’s front door, stalking around in that leashed, leopard prowl, restless as usual. She smiled with pleasure, watching him. After over a year thinking that he was gone forever, just the sight of him, white hair glinting in the moonlight, black duster flapping, lean body fluid and supple in the familiar black jeans and T-shirt and Docs, was all that she needed to be perfectly happy. Just seeing him alive.
He turned to look at her and her gaze lingered on the planes of his face, the cut-glass cheekbones and the strong jaw and the beautiful mouth, the vivid blue eyes narrowed now in amusement and speculation.
“So. Lovers, are we?”
She laughed. “Oh, yeah.”
“Here too?”
“If you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested.” His gaze went hot, running down her from brow to toe, lingering on her lips and breasts and thighs on the way, his glance like a touch, so that the color came up into her face. It was a possessive look, knowing that he could have her if he wanted, intrigued and curious. “That’ll be something new. Fucking a Slayer.”
She grinned. “Think you’ll like it even better than killing one. At least, that’s what you said the last time around.”
“Sounds like something I’d say. And it seems you liked fucking a vamp.”
“Let me think. Vamp stamina and refractory period. Yeah, I liked it.”
They both laughed.
“Not ‘fucking’ though, Spike,” she said. “Making love.”
His gaze went very still.
“We’re enemies, Slayer,” he said harshly.
“Only if you want to be.”
She could see him thinking back over the last few years, the times they had tried with all their might to kill each other, the threats they had flung back and forth, the blows they had exchanged. They weren’t even friends in this dimension; they only tolerated each other out of grim necessity, the chip keeping her from staking him and...
“What kept you from killing this dimension’s Buffy, Spike?” she asked.
His brows shot up. “Little piece of metal and plastic in my head, Slayer, remember?”
“Doesn’t keep you from hiring demons to poison us or to take us out, does it?”
His eyes widened, then narrowed and shifted, avoiding hers. “Is that why you called me out here, Slayer? To give me ideas on how to kill you?”
“I called you out here to warn you that you’d better change your crypt.” She shrugged as his scarred eyebrow rose questioningly. “Riley holds grudges. And he’ll get his buddies on board, like Graham for instance. The Initiative is being pulled out in stages and some of their soldiers are still around. You’re not safe till they’re all gone.”
“Got a point. There’s a Krasevic I know. Might have a place I could doss down in for a while.”
“Find a place we might both like.”
His eyes flared with laughter and heat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Tell him we’ll trade immunity for it.”
Krasevics were peaceful demons. There was a whole community of non-harmful demons in Sunnydale that Buffy had always carefully ignored since they were no threat to the populace. A deal like that would in no way conflict with her Slayer duties.
“Better than cash for him,” Spike nodded. “I think he’ll go for that.”
“Put it in my name. That way you’ll sleep safe.”
“Angel, yeah. So you’re not going to be inviting him in. What’s driven a wedge between you and your one true love, pet?”
“Star crossed lovers, all Romeo and Juliet, yeah, yeah. Teenage love’s nice and simple, isn’t it? Well, I grew up. Adult love’s messy and complicated and real. It’s all our different pieces meshing together like gears. Like that yin yang symbol, half shadow, half light, interlocking.”
He was staring at her.
“Don’ know what you think is going on here, pet, but...”
“Hey, not looking for anything but a good fuck, okay? How’s that sound to you?”
He laughed helplessly. “Sounds pretty good.”
“I’ll be at Revello Drive. Come and tell me when you’ve got things set up.”
In a flash of vampire speed, he had a hand around her throat, pushing her back against the wall of Giles’s flat, the length of his body and his full weight upon her all the way from chest to knee. She shuddered and arched to him involuntarily, loving the feel of him against her, vibrant and alive; watched his eyes go black and burning as their pupils dilated and his irises turned to thin rings of intense, blazing blue.
“Tomorrow,” he said. It was a challenge. He still didn’t believe she’d go through with it.
“Fine.”
He kissed her hard, his mouth deliberately painful and demanding. Testing her. She kissed him back as fiercely. They tore their mouths away, both gasping because the passion had flared so abruptly, so imperatively. He drew a harsh breath.
“Right then.”
And let her go and vanished into the shadows.
She looked after him, smiling. He’d be back. He wouldn’t be able to pass up the challenge. Oh, she knew him, knew what was going through his head right now. It wasn’t love. It was lust. It was sexual curiosity and arousal. It was the irresistible temptation to one-up the Scoobies, Giles, Riley, Angel, freak them all right out. The chance to cause as much trouble as he possibly could. Spike would never be able to resist that. All she had to do was keep him intrigued and titillated. He’d come back for more.
That was all she wanted right now. To have him. Just that. On his terms this time. Not putting him through hoops, making impossible demands, belittling and degrading him. No egocentric, selfcentered selfishness this time. Not what she wanted. What he wanted. Whatever he wanted.
Love? She’d thrown away her rights to that. Lust was enough.
She turned and went back into the flat. The bunch of them were all shouting at each other inside. A dead silence fell as she walked in the door. She grinned.
“Giles? Ready to go?”
“Er, yes.” He reached for his jacket, the whites of his eyes showing as he glanced uneasily sideways at her, rather like a panicked horse.
“Buffy...” Riley stumbled towards her. It looked as if he had twisted his ankle when he had fallen after she threw him into the wall.
Really, the man was thick. Angel had more sense, was standing silent, sizing her up.
“Don’t have anything to say to you, Riley. You’re so yesterday for me. You’re nearly four years ago. I’m done with men who run out on me because they can’t stand the heat.” She flicked a scornful glance towards Angel as well. “Kinda prefer the ones who stick it out.”
“Spike?”
“He was always there.” She could see Xander opening his mouth to make one of the nasty cracks he specialized in, flung up her hand to stop him. “I’m not listening to anything any one of you has to say about Spike. In my dimension, he sacrificed himself not once, but twice for all of us. Died and came back and died again to save the world and your sorry asses. So shut the hell up.”
Having dropped that bombshell, she turned on her heel and stalked out. She caught a glimpse of their thunderstruck faces when she glanced over her shoulder at Giles meekly following her and had to fight back a laugh.
“Buffy,” Giles mumbled as they got into his little car, “your attitude is really...”
“In your face? Yeah. I’ve had it with the bunch of you nagging at me all the time. I’m not putting up with it this time around. The thing you’re all forgetting is that I’ve got four years on you. I know what’s going to happen and I know what every one of you does or is capable of doing. Not going to let the bad things happen. Not the apocalypses and not the bunch of you acting like shits.”
There was silence for a while as Giles digested this.
“Did Spike really...?”
Buffy smiled twistedly. “He really did.”
“Why? Why would a kil...er, a vampire do such a thing?”
“The first time he did it for me. The second time? For friendship and loyalty. If you think about it, you may have seen already that he is capable of that. You’ve just dismissed it.” She turned her head to look at him as he frowned over the steering wheel at the road. “You once said that his being chipped might be for a higher purpose.”
“I remember,” Giles said dryly. “He didn’t agree. He was in fact quite insulting about it.”
“Bad timing on your part, Giles. You mentioned it too early. He was still sore about having been chipped at that point.”
“Are you saying that he’s on the path to redemption like Angel?” Giles gave her a disbelieving look. “But Angel has a soul.”
Buffy didn’t say anything for a moment. She didn’t want to bring that soul thing up. Spike didn’t need it and she didn’t want anyone harassing him to get it.
“He’s changing, Giles. Maybe if you people stopped slapping him down and stepping on him, you’d see that. You’re supposed to be good people. You should be helping him come out into the light, instead of shoving him back down into the dark. He’s got a hard row to hoe and so far he’s been doing it all by himself. Without even Angel’s precious soul or friends. Maybe if you all stopped kicking him in the teeth and tried even a tiny little bit of support instead, things might go better.”
Giles didn’t say anything for a long time.
“Our Buffy...” he began at last and Buffy let out a little breath of exasperation.
“She hasn’t learned yet. The only good demon’s a dead demon, right? The Council might want all the Slayers and Watchers to believe that. But you’re an intelligent man, Giles. Do you really think that things are that black and white?” She sighed deeply. “It took me four long and painful years to learn that the world is made up of grays. I’m not going to ignore that knowledge now. And if your Buffy ever comes back, I’d suggest you teach her that, Giles. It’ll save her a lot of grief.”
Giles was looking extremely thoughtful. Buffy hoped she had got through to him. If not, she’d just keep hammering the point home. The Scoobies needed a wake up call. Too many things had gone wrong, too many losses had happened, because they all had these blinders over their eyes.
Buffy had to ring the doorbell at Revello Drive. She no longer had her key. It had gone a year ago when the house and Sunnydale had both disappeared into a crater in her dimension. Joyce opened the door and looked at them both in surprise.
“Goodness, Buffy! I didn’t think it was you! Did you lose your key again?”
“Yes.” Buffy grabbed Joyce tight, trying not to cry. Her Mom had died in the other dimension. To have her back again was such a miracle!
“Why, honey, what’s wrong?” Joyce could feel the wetness against her cheek and Buffy’s body shaking as she held Joyce painfully tight. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Buffy drew back, wiping at her eyes. “Everything’s right.”
“Something’s happened. You look...” Joyce took Buffy’s face in her hands. Buffy looked strangely older, but it wasn’t that which worried Joyce. There was a shadow in her eyes that hadn’t been there the last time Joyce had seen her, just a week ago. Joyce couldn’t understand it.
“Come and sit down, Mom. There’s something we have to tell you.” But when Joyce would have drawn her down beside her on the couch, Buffy moved guiltily away to the far end. “Giles, you’d better explain.”
Giles did so.
“Buffy died and you didn’t tell me!” Joyce exclaimed. “Rupert, how could you?”
“We thought we could get her back and you’d never have to know,” Giles said shamefacedly.
“You could still get your Buffy back,” Buffy said. “The PTB are working on that. It might take a while, but they will succeed. I’m sure of it.”
“I’m glad. I do want her back. But you’re my Buffy too, dear.” She reached out and drew Buffy to her. “It doesn’t matter that you’re from another dimension. You’re still my daughter.”
“Oh, Mom!” They hugged each other tightly.
“I’ll just say goodnight then,” muttered Giles. He was uncomfortable with all the emotion and he needed time to process everything that was going on.
“Will you be staying here or returning to your room at the dorm?” Joyce asked as Buffy came back from showing him out.
“I’ll stay here tonight.” Buffy looked nostalgically around. In her dimension, the whole house was gone and they had been able to salvage so few mementos in their rush to leave before Sunnydale collapsed. “But I’ll be getting my own place. This me is twenty-four years old and sort of used to living on my own.”
“Twenty-four!” Joyce shook her head, trying to get used to the thought.
“Mom, listen.” Buffy sat down beside Joyce and caught her hand. “I want you to do me a favor. I want you to call your doctor tomorrow and arrange to have a CAT scan done.”
Joyce looked startled, then thoughtful. “That’s why you started to cry when you saw me.”
“You got very, very sick.” Buffy didn’t want to say that Joyce had died. That was too much of a shock to lay on anyone. “Maybe they can prevent that if they catch it earlier.”
“A tumor. That’s what CAT scans show and I have been getting headaches. Is that what it is?”
“Mm. But you survive it.” Joyce had survived the operation, but she hadn’t survived the aneurysm that followed it. Buffy didn’t know what could be done about that, but if the operation happened earlier and the doctors were warned to watch for it, maybe it could be prevented.
They spent most of the night talking. Buffy just wanted to be with her Mom and Joyce was curious about what had brought about the changes she saw in Buffy. Buffy was honest with her, not about the actual events since those might be affected if anyone knew about them, but about the emotional states she had gone through and was in right now. It was good to talk to someone with a different perspective than the Scoobies, someone who saw Buffy the person rather than Buffy the Slayer and was on her side. Giles would say it was because Joyce was ignorant about demon affairs, but it seemed to Buffy that Joyce was simply unprejudiced and kindhearted.
“It’s hard not to hold their actions against Giles and Willow and Xander,” she said ruefully to Joyce now. “I keep telling myself that they haven’t done any of those things yet, but I can’t help remembering them and being all chip on the shoulder about it.”
“Well, I have noticed the way they push you around, dear, and I do agree that you should stand up for yourself. But it might be better not to be quite so harsh,” Joyce finished gently and Buffy laughed.
“Yeah, I’ll try not to.”
“So. Spike,” said Joyce thoughtfully and Buffy colored a little. Too much about Spike had slipped out while Buffy was trying to explain other things.
“You do like him, don’t you, Mom?”
“Well, I would have preferred someone who could give me grandchildren, but, yes, I do like him. He’s a very nice boy. He’s never been anything but sweet and polite every time I’ve met him. Do you love him, Buffy?”
“Yes,” said Buffy simply.
“He...he doesn’t seem to...” Joyce searched for the right words. “In this dimension...”
“I know. He doesn’t love me. It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad that he’s alive. And I’m going to find a way to keep him alive. Not going to have him burn up again, whatever it takes. But that’s years away, thank God. I’ll have time to figure things out.”
“Good.” Joyce considered her, a little amazed at how confident and mature Buffy seemed to be now. “You have grown up, haven’t you?”
Buffy laughed involuntarily. “Maybe. I wouldn’t guarantee it.”
Joyce smiled too. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Buffy slept in the next day, cutting whatever classes she was supposed to take at UC Sunnydale. It was going to be some time before she could get back into the swing of things, like going to college again or getting used to the life that had been hers four years ago. She didn’t hear from Giles or the Scoobies or Angel either. They too were busy trying to adjust, she supposed, and even Riley seemed to have gotten the message.
She did patrol that evening, enjoying falling back into the old routine. Previously, she had always resented being tied to Sunnydale and the Hellmouth. Now she had gone all over the world in her quest for the new Slayers activated by Willow’s spell and she hadn’t enjoyed it one bit. She had been so bitter and lonely that all those fascinating places had ended up just being empty and meaningless to her. She had missed Sunnydale and was glad that it was back, was even glad that the Hellmouth still existed, giving purpose to her life.
Four years had honed her fighting skills. Giles would probably be amazed at how much better she had become at the game. She took out a couple of vamps with ease. A Chiriwan demon in Tranquility cemetery gave her more difficulty since she hadn’t brought a sword with her, but she ripped one of the wrought iron rails from Tranquility’s fence loose, ducked the Chiriwan’s poisonous claws and hammered the rail straight through its heart, then nodded with satisfaction as it poofed into dust. Chiriwans were somehow related to vamps and that saved her the cleanup.
“You’ve been practicing,” said Spike dryly behind her.
She turned and smiled at him. “Four years make a difference.”
“You’re at a whole new level. Pity the chip stops me from taking you on. Like to see how we’d match up now.”
“Had a couple of good fights in the past, haven’t we? Would you try to kill me now if you could, Spike?”
He tilted a brow at her sardonically. “Might.”
“Come on then. Let’s spar.”
“No, thanks, pet. Not in the mood for a blinding headache right now.”
“Oh!” She laughed a little. “You won’t get one. You can hit me now, Spike. I died three years ago and Willow resurrected me not quite the way I was. Enough of a difference that your chip won’t go off if you attacked me.”
“You died?”
“Hellgod called Glory opened up a rift I had to die to close. Have to figure out a way to keep her from doing that in this dimension. Willow might not be able to bring me back this time.”
“Red’s capable of that kind of mojo?”
“Oh, yeah. She gets freaking dangerous.”
“Better watch my step around her,” he muttered.
His hand flashed out. The heel of his hand slammed against her shoulder, hard enough to shove her back a step, but not hard enough to set the chip off too painfully should it happen to activate.
“Well, how about that?” he said, a nasty grin dawning when the chip didn’t fire. “Killable again, are you, Slayer?”
“You can try.”
“Then I will.”
His fist slashed out, a strike straight forward at her throat that would have crushed her larynx if it had connected. She blocked it swiftly with her forearm. An audible thud sounded. He had struck hard, not pulling the blow. She struck back, full strength, knocking him backwards. Then they were in a whirl of motion, punching and kicking with blinding speed.
She wondered for a horrible moment whether he really was trying to kill her. She couldn’t kill him. There was no way in hell she was ever going to dust him. She’d let him kill her first. All she could try for was a standoff and, against an opponent as superbly skilled as he was, that put her at a terrible disadvantage.
Then she saw the wicked laughter and enjoyment in his eyes. It was the dance after all, that dance of speed and balance and ferocity, that dance of death that somehow never ever got to the killing point. They were both grinning now as they fought, the blows and blocks speeding up until she was not striking at where he was, but at where he would be by the time her foot or fist reached him.
She didn’t know who made the mistake. But suddenly they were both staggering sideways against the wall of a crypt, clutching at each other for balance. She fell back against the crypt and he fell on her, his full weight upon her. They were both laughing delightedly, ribcages and stomachs heaving against each other as they fought for breath. Fighting always made them both horny. She could feel him aroused and hard against her, feel herself all buttery and throbbing.
He kissed her abruptly, mouth demanding. She kissed him back as greedily, her hands on his hips pulling him fiercely to her. Their mouths twisted together, devouring each other; their bodies rubbed and strained against each other, passion flaring.
They tore their mouths apart at last, gasping against each other’s faces.
“Still in the mood, huh?” he muttered. The astonishment hadn’t worn off for him.
“Always.” Her thumbs circled in the hollows of his pelvis, pressing provocatively through the denim of his jeans.
She heard him catch his breath.
“That Krasevic demon?” he muttered “He came up with a place. Safe house he was renting out to other demons. Wanna go see if you like it?”
She knew what he was really suggesting.
“Good idea,” she agreed, smiling. “So he did go for it.”
“Your immunity for him and his family, my protection if he needs it? Oh, yeah, he went for it. Ever seen a lizard grin?” Krasevics were reptilian. “Some sight that was. So wide he nearly split his head in two. Place is over on the east side where those derelict factories are. C’mon.”
That was a rundown area, but the location was still not that far away from her beat through the cemeteries. Convenient.
“Any way to keep Angel from knowing where you are?” Buffy asked and he laughed.
“Yeah, Angel’s not gonna be too pleased about us getting chummy. Place is in your name, so he can’t get in even if he knows.”
“He might tell Xander or Riley where you are and get them to sneak in and dust you.”
“Thought of that myself. Talked to the Krasevic about it. He referred me to this demongirl. She’s into the witchy stuff, like Red. She laid on this spell will keep anyone from knowing where I live.”
“Bright idea. Be careful getting your stuff over.”
“Moved whatever I value already. Captain Cardboard hasn’t had time to get his head together. Brain moves rather slow in that asshole. He and his buddies can trash what’s left if they like.”
“Good.”
On a teasing impulse, she slid her hand into his as they walked along. She felt him stiffen a little beside her. Glancing sideways, she saw his brows lift and his lips twist into a sardonic smile. Then his cool fingers interlinked with hers. The whole thing was a joke to him, a crazy hilarious jest that he was enjoying.
He looked down at her suddenly. “Stopped in at Revello Drive earlier. Your Mum said to tell you she’d made that appointment for a CAT scan.”
“Oh, that’s good to hear!” Buffy said with relief.
Spike frowned. “Something wrong with your Mum, pet?”
“She’s got a brain tumor. In the other dimension, she died. I want to stop it from happening here.”
“They couldn’t fix it in your dimension?”
“They got the tumor out okay. But just when we thought everything was fine, she had an aneurysm and died. I was hoping if she had the operation earlier and the doctors were warned, they might keep it from bursting or even from forming in the first place.”
“I can keep an eye on her once she gets out of hospital. Vamp here. Isn’t much I’m not able to sense about blood. Can tell you if it starts to form and you can tell the doctors.”
“Will you do that? Spike, thank you!”
He looked completely embarrassed.
“She’s a lady, your Mum,” he muttered. “Been nice to me. Don’t worry, pet. She’s not gonna die this time around.”
Buffy smiled at him. He had cared for Joyce in the other dimension and it looked like he did here too.
They were in the old industrial district now, moving through the deserted streets.
“Here,” said Spike, turning into what looked like a dilapidated warehouse. A door sagging on crooked hinges opened on cracked but firm cement stairs which led down to a solid metal door. Spike unlocked that, reached in to switch on the lights, then stepped back to let her enter.
Buffy walked in and smiled. “Sweet.”
“You’re used to classy digs, aren’t you, Slayer?” Spike said dryly. “Best Frihas had and he makes a business of it. But he thought the deal was worth it.”
Except for the lack of windows, the place could have passed for a suite in a luxury hotel. Its space matched the length and width of the warehouse above and the rooms—living room, dining area, small but efficient kitchen, large bedroom with a kingsized bed, luxurious bathroom—were all open and airy and bright with track lighting, the furniture expensive and looking very comfortable.
“The bed was the selling point,” said Spike, leaning a shoulder against the archway leading to the bedroom.
Buffy laughed involuntarily, looking at the huge bed. “Was it now?”
“Care to try it out?”
“Why not?”
He tilted a brow at her, then shrugged off his duster, heel-and-toed out of his boots and turned to strip the coverlet off the bed. No working up to it, no mood music or champagne or whatever. Right down to business. It was a direct statement. Not romance, but sex. A challenge thrown at her.
She grinned, treading off her sneakers and sliding out of her jeans. He had no idea what he was dealing with. When he turned from dropping the coverlet over a chair, she was right there in front of him, yanking his T-shirt out of his jeans and over his head.
“I do like that sixpack,” she purred, running her hands over him. He was always a pleasure to look at and to touch, all that hard, supple muscle and strong, clean bone. “So pretty.”
That drew the expected offended reaction. “Not pretty,” he growled.
“Are so.” She tongued his nipple, pushing the soft nub inward and feeling it harden under the friction. “And so lickable.”
“Christ, Slayer!” He was grinning involuntarily. “Are you under the impression you need to seduce me?”
“Nah. I know you’re always up for it. I just like the way you feel.”
He laughed helplessly. “Like the way you feel too.”
His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back. They kissed deeply, mouths twisting together, tongues sliding and thrusting, eating each other alive.
“God, I’ve missed this,” she muttered. “Missed you.”
She was drunk on him, the feel of his skin and the taste of him and the scent of him, couldn’t get enough of the reality of him in her arms. It had been so long. So long since those three crazy months when they had been lovers. Those months she hadn’t valued. In which she had only fucked him, hit him, used him, seeking sensation and nothing else. Blindly self-involved and cruel and uncaring.
Now she knew what he had been feeling, knew how painful it must have been for him knowing that it was only sex to her, knowing that she didn’t love him, yet still wanting it so desperately and unable to give up a moment of it, no matter how much grief it brought him. Now it was her turn to experience that. This was only sex to this Spike, only sensation and curiosity.
And yet it still wasn’t as bad for her as it had been for him. This Spike might not love her, but this Spike had no reason to cut her up the way she had him, flaying him with her contempt, not hiding her shame at being with him, heedless of how wretched it must have made him feel.
She had hurt him so much! But not this time. Not this time. She kissed him with desperate hunger, but her hands clung and caressed, tenderly stroking his face, his body, wordlessly loving him. She wanted to give him pleasure. Her own body was thrilling to the feel of him, but that was not as important to her this time as the pleasure she wanted to give him.
They lost their balance and fell on the bed.. His weight came on her. His fingers twined in her hair. He looked down at her, a tiny frown between his brows, his eyes puzzled. Of course he was wary and bewildered. She couldn’t help her reactions, couldn’t help that this wasn’t the casual encounter for her that it was for him.
“Take it for whatever you want it to be,” she said fiercely to those mistrustful eyes. “Not asking anything of you, hear me? Just want you to enjoy this.”
“Oh, I’m enjoying it, Slayer,” he said on a shuddering breath, half laughter, half heat.
They were both panting for breath, even he, and he didn’t need to breathe. She smiled in triumph, knowing that passion was what brought that reflex out in him. She had him now. She knew him through and through, knew all his buttons. Her hands raked over him; she sucked at his throat, bit his neck, that trigger point for a vamp, felt his whole body jolt and jerk against her.
“God, who’d have thought?” he gasped.
“Who’d have thought what?”
“Stick-up-the-ass Summers,” he muttered. “The sodding ice maiden. Who’d have thought you’d be such a bloody animal in bed!”
“Are you complaining?”
“Think I’m mental?”
They were yanking each other’s remaining clothes off. Skin on skin now and their bodies twisting and coiling against each other, friction building an urgent, upwards spiral of imperative desire.
“Christ, Slayer!” he groaned as her hands moved over him, unerringly finding all the places that made him writhe and surge against her. “Captain Cardboard didn’t teach you that!”
“No, you did.”
But her own breath was hitching and catching in her throat. With a hundred and twenty years experience behind him, he was a past master at loveplay and he was using that expertise on her now. He’d gone halfway into gameface. No one but Spike had ever used that ability on her and she had forgotten how unbelievably pleasurable it was, his tongue rough as a cat’s, unbearably stimulating as it rasped over her nipples and stomach and inner thighs, and his fangs out now and biting delicately at her flesh in tiny pinpricks that were hopelessly erotic.
“God, Spike!”
He laughed. It had turned into another battle between the two of them, but this time the struggle was to see who would drive each other higher, crazier; a battle in which neither of them could lose.
“No one else ever...” No one else had ever made her feel the way he did. The one time Angel had made love to her, he had stayed human, unwilling to expose his vampiric nature that might have turned her off, virgin and naive as she had been. And Riley and Parker were humans. No one human could match or satisfy a Slayer.
But this with Spike was more than that. Because she loved him now. She hadn’t loved him before, hadn’t known what a difference that could make. How every touch could mean so much, became an agonizing rapture, reached an intensity she had never experienced before. Her body strained to his; her arms clenched around him; she found herself murmuring helpless endearments blurrily into his skin, remembered him muttering indistinguishable words against her during all those three short months, words she had never allowed him to say aloud, but he had not been able to keep from saying. Oh, she understood it now.
He came into her hard and she cried aloud at the perfection of it. She had wanted it so much, so long. He made her complete. They surged against each other, fused at lips and loins, straining together.
Pure rapture, the hard drives of his cock, the thickness of him within her, his face above her taut with passion and lost in her and so beautiful in his pleasure. She clenched upon him and heard him gasp in shock and delight. This Spike hadn’t known what Slayer muscles could do.
They struggled against each other, thrusting towards completion and striving to hold it off at one and the same time, wanting the ecstasy to last, but moving faster and faster, harsher, more urgent, desperate, every nerve ending on fire, aware of nothing but sensation, existing only in the moment, in that unendurable conflagration that went on and on and on, until mind and body could bear no more.
She saw his eyes go blind, felt him jolt and pulse within her again and again, fell over the edge herself, her whole body convulsing, her brain blanking right out, losing herself utterly in him.
TBC
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