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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry guys, but the next update will be a little delayed, because I'll be out of town and won't have internet access.
Chapter 12:

The Slayer was smiling again as they walked back to their lair. She'd been nervous the entire time they had the stolen police car, but as he'd promised, Spike returned it to where the cop was chained in the alley.

In the mean time, they'd found a supermarket and bought a chocolate cake. They'd also rented several movies to watch.

Picking movies had been difficult, not because they couldn't agree, but because the Slayer had no opinion whatsoever. Spike found himself in the unique position of picking movies for someone who'd never seen a movie before.

His first thought was that she'd like martial arts movie. But they usually had ridiculous or hard to follow plots, and she would be the type to ask him to explain everything. He'd gone through every genre he could think of, and found reasons to reject each one of them.

Finally he'd selected three movies. He chose Casablanca because it really was as good as everyone said, even if he thought Rick was a bloody fool. Goldfinger because he figured, you couldn't go wrong with Sean Conory as James Bond.

The final choice had been a last minute decision. He saw that they had the newest Disney movie, Mulan. Dru loved Disney movies, but Spike had learnt the hard way that he had to carefully watch them before she did, because of the ideas they would put in her head.

After seeing Cinderella she'd spent the next several weeks trying to get rats to dance and sing. That would have been fine with Spike, except eventually the rats bit her, and then she bit them back, which gave her rat breath.

That was nothing compared to what happened after she saw Alice in Wonderland. Spike hadn't been able to drink tea since.

Besides, Mulan looked like it was about a girl with a sword, which should appeal to the Slayer.

The Slayer was carrying the cake, entranced by the little red flowers and the frosting, which spelled out "Happy Birthday Buffy", while Spike carried the videos. He'd given her his duster to wear, hoping that, it would keep any other men from getting ideas about her.

When they got to the house, Spike opened the door and walked straight into what felt like a brick wall. There was nothing but empty space in front of him.

"Bloody hell!" he complained rubbing his nose.

"What's wrong?" the Slayer asked. She was suddenly alert, searching the darkness for a possible assailant.

"You've fucking nested, is what's wrong."

"Vampires nest, not Slayers," she objected.

"Yeah well, obviously you do. Thanks to your little cleaning fit, I need an invite."

Spike found the words strangely painful to say. Spike had no idea why the Slayer was still here, with him. Why she didn't just leave. But now she didn't have to leave. All she had to do was walk through that door and neither he, nor any other vampire could touch her.

"Oh? Um. . . I've never done this before. I'm not supposed to ever invite anyone in."

Spike's heart sank. Of course he was standing between her and the door. If he could surprise her, maybe he could beat her into giving him an invite. It didn't matter how or why you got one. All that was important was that the words were said.

But she continued on right away. "I invite you in," she said formally. Then she giggled, dodged past him, and ran through the door.

Spike was stunned for a moment. She had easily overcome a lifetimes training. He had no doubt that one of the first rules drilled into a slayer's mind was to never invite any one in. Doubly so if you knew for sure they were a vampire. But she'd done it, with no reason, and no convincing. He hadn't even really asked.

Recovering, he dashed inside after her. The barrier gone as mysteriously as it had appeared. Inside he could hear her still giggling. He saw that she had put down the cake, and he quickly dropped the movies. Then he began to stalk somewhat comically through the house.

"Now where did that sweat innocent little girl go?" he called playfully.

He heard a giggle come from upstairs. Slowly, and making a great deal of noise, he ascended the stairs.

"Is she in here?" he asked as he pushed open the door to her bed room. He knew she wasn't; he could hear her trying to suppress her giggles in his room.

Spike never even noticed how easily he had slipped into the game of tag with the Slayer. It was the sort of thing Dru might have done.

He continued in the same manner through the other upstairs rooms, leaving his for last. Finally he pushed open the door and entered. He made a great show of moving methodically through the room, checking under the bed and behind the curtains that covered boarded windows.

When there was no-where left to check but the closet, he said loudly. "Well, she must have got away when I wasn't looking. Guess I'll have to find another snack."

Then he walked in place, trying to make it sound like he was leaving. After a moment he crept quietly towards the closet door. Just as he was about to open it, it flew open, and the giggling Slayer dashed past him.

He tried to grab her but she broke free and was out the door. He ran after her, and they both leapt over the railing of the stairs instead of running down them.

He chased her into the kitchen, where he cornered her. The island was the only thing between them, and they both made several feints to either side. The whole time the Slayer laughed, her smile infecting her wild green eyes.

She was the one who finally ended their standoff. She tried to dash past him, and this time he caught her by the waist. He tried to swing her around so that he was hugging her from behind, but she used her momentum to send them both crashing to the floor.

They rolled around on the floor for a bit, playfully wrestling. It ended with Spike lying on his back, and the Slayer straddling him as she pinned his upper arms. A position he was more than happy with. Even through both of their jeans, he could feel the heat of her body warming him as her weight bore down on his erection.

He stretched under her and put his hands behind his head. He smiled up at her, "Looks like you win, pet."

"Of course," she teased. "I'm the Slayer."

"So what do you want?" he asked.

"Want?"

"Yeah, you won, so what sort of prize do you want?"

"It's a sacred duty. You don't get a prize for slaying," she explained patiently.

"No, I guess the only prize is getting to live another night to do it all over again," he said solemnly. "Unless you consider violence to be it's own reward," he added playfully.

She put her hands on her hips and pouted. "Violence is not a reward."

"Says the girl who just wrestled her housemate to the ground."

She stuck out her tongue at him and got up, which was not what he wanted.

"So what do you want?" He asked as he stood up. "You didn't actually slay me, so I think it's alright if you get a prize."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I don't know. It's your prize."

"What would you want if you had won?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, and leaned in close to her, as if he was going to whisper in her ear. Instead, he kissed her neck, sucking the delicate skin into his mouth and between his teeth. He didn't actually bite, just made sure that she knew that he could.

She shivered but didn't pull away until he removed his lips from her neck. Then she stumbled back away from him. Her heart was beating rapidly and her eyes were wide with a combination of excitement and fear.

Spike couldn't help but smirk with male pride at the reaction he'd caused in her.

"That wasn't real fighting," she said defensively as she struggled to get her emotions under control. "You said if you killed me it would be because we fought," she accused.

"Wasn't going to kill you," he practically purred at her as he moved in closer. That forced her to back up, until she was against the kitchen wall.

"You were going to bite me," she insisted.

"Doesn't mean I was going to kill you." He placed his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head, and leaned in close. "Do you think vampires bite only to kill?"

"Yeah," she said.

She ducked under his arms, to get more distance between them. He chose not to chase her again just yet. Instead he turned to face her and held her with his eyes.

"They didn't teach you so well, did they Slayer? The bite's not about killing, it's not about death, it's about life."

His words and her curiosity drew her back, closer to him. As she came near, he reached out and caressed her neck. She leaned into his hand as his eager fingers found her trembling pulse.

"We're not animals that you hunt, Slayer. We're demons, mystical beings, and our power is in our fangs, and in our blood. The night I killed my first slayer was the best night of my life, but not because of her blood, and it was sweet, let me tell you. But because that night my Sire let me bite her as we made love."

Spike stopped, amazed at the words that had tumbled from his lips. He had been looking for words to explain something that was pure instinct, trying to explain something that was as natural to a vampire as breathing was to a human.

But he had never meant to tell her that. It was too personal. Even if she didn't understand, it was his great humiliation. Being allowed to bite your Sire was an honor. It was usually reserved as a reward for pleasing the Sire.

Over the years Spike had seen countless vampires rewarded for small things by their Sires. That night was the only time Dru had ever let him bite her. Even when he'd killed the second slayer, she hadn't let him. Instead she'd beaten him and yelled nonsense at him about how she was going to be killed by a bird: a sparrow, or a robin or something.

Bitterness towards Drusilla flooded him. To escape the disloyal thoughts he quickly changed the subject.

"So what is it you want, pet?"

"I don't want anything," she told him.

"There must be something. Never mind if I can get it for you or not. If you had one wish, kitten, what would you wish for?"

"The Master dead," she said coldly.

Spike almost told her he would do it for her. Then shame filled him. She was the Slayer, his enemy. He wasn't her champion, he was her enemy. He was Drusilla's champion, her black knight. He killed for her, and then returned to her whether she chose to reward him or not.

The poet in him was absolutely loyal and devoted to her. The poet knew that he belonged to Drusilla. It was she who had saved him from the horror show that had been his life and brought him into the glorious night. And now he was betraying her, if he hadn't done it through his actions yet, he had done it in his heart, which was worse.

He didn't want to fuck and rape this girl, he wanted to seduce her. The demon hungered not just for her body and blood, but for her love as well. The demon wanted the one thing he had never had, except from the slayers he'd killed. He wanted respect.

He growled, as his demon came forth. "What the hell are you doing here?! Why don't you leave?!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her and took out his anger at himself, on her.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't have anywhere to go," she whispered.

He let go of her arms, and like a puppet who's strings had been cut, she fell to the floor. He ignored her and started to storm out of the room when her words stopped him.

"She's gone," she said softly as she began to sob.

"Who's gone?" he asked exasperated.

"Ms. Post. I called. After I bought food, I took the change to a pay phone, and I called her. But the number was disconnected."

He stood there, not knowing what he should say to her. He could have comforted her, but anything kind to her would have felt like another betrayal of his Dark Princess.

"I know what I'm supposed to do," she continued, swallowing her tears. "It shouldn't matter. I should go back, face the Master. That's my duty. I have to stop him. And I would, but. . . What if. . . What if I don't kill him, and he doesn't kill me? I can't go back. I'm scared. I can't . . . I can't go back to that cell."

"You want some cake?"

She wiped the last of her tears away. "Yeah, okay."





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