All About Spike

Chapter: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16

The Slave Series
By jodyorjen

Chapter Eight: Revelations

I look at Spike, my mind spinning with disbelief.

Grabbing my hand, he pulls me back outside, slamming the front door. He steers me over to the tree in the front yard, bracing my back against the trunk. Holding tightly to my shoulders, he stares down at me intently. “I love you.”

“Just tell me if it’s true. Are we married? How is that even possible?” I look at him in disbelief.

“When you brought me back. The words you spoke. They were a vow, Buffy.” He looks at me earnestly. “I tried to tell you what you were getting into. It was sealed with blood, girl. It linked us together forever.”

I remember the words that I spoke to return him to me. Raising the chalice to his lips, forcing him to drink. “I told Tara that I was willing to do anything, to risk everything, to get you back. She told me the ritual would bind us, that we would be pledged to each other.”

He sighs. “But you don’t understand the consequences, Buffy. We are joined as one, eternally. You don’t comprehend what that means.”

“All I need to know if that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere. Nothing else really matters to me.” I pull him down, kissing his lips.

He tries to break away. “Buffy, we have to talk about this…”

“Why didn’t you explain this in the crypt? Why didn’t you tell me then?” I’m really not in the mood for talking.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you, how to explain it. You finally told me that you love me. I’ve wanted it for so long, Buffy. I was afraid you’d get scared, run away…“ I pull away, turning around. He grabs my shoulder. He looks at me, his eyes hard. His grip on me tightens painfully. ”You can’t push me away. Not ever again.“

I break free of his hold. “Look, Spike. You can explain all of this mystical marriage stuff later. But I have to go in there and try to cool things off in the real world.” Turning my back on him, I go back inside.

The foyer is empty. My friends are gathered around in the living room, looking stiff and uncomfortable. Everyone except Willow and Dawn is there. There is no sound, no conversation.

“How could you, Buffy?” Xander looks up angrily, his face stern. “Tara and Angel told us what they did. How could you let them manipulate you?

Tara leaps to her feet. “That is not true, Xander. I would never manipulate anyone-“

Xander glares at her. “I am so tired of witches playing God-”

I raise my voice. “Okay, that’s enough. Let me just explain. You don’t need to attack Tara.”

Xander steps in front of me, his face close to mine. “You didn’t even tell us that you were seeing him, much less that loved him, and now we’re just supposed to accept that you married him in some voodoo hoodoo magic thing? This is insane. You can’t love Spike. He’s a vampire, a big bad. He’s the evil stalker guy. How could you even let him touch you?”

Anger and humiliation wash over me. ‘What gives you the right to judge me? Judge him?”

Spike pulls me in closely, wrapping his arm around my waist.“There is something seriously wrong with you. The Buffy I loved, that Buffy wouldn’t have done this. That Buffy didn’t give Spike the time of day. We never should have done that spell to bring you back.” Xander’s disgust is palpable, infusing every syllable of his words.

Horrified, I cover my mouth, biting back a sob. Spike steps in front of me. “Leave her alone,” he says menacingly.

“You’re the one who needs to leave her alone,” Xander shouts. ”Screwing with her head. Using her for your perverted-“

Xander flies against the wall, crashing down. In a flash, Spike is holding him up by the collar, hitting him again. Xander slides across the floor, crashing into the opposite wall. “You don’t know anything about what we have,” hisses Spike, appearing over him.

Angel grabs Spike, pulling him down the hall towards the kitchen. “That’s enough, Spike. You’ve made your point.”

Cordelia follows, Connor on her chest in a baby carrier. “I’ll make Xander an ice pack for his face. Sure looks like he needs one.”

Anya and I both bend down to help up Xander. Blood flows from his nose. ‘Get away from me. I don’t want to have anything to do with you,” he says, pushing me away again. Anya helps him up, pressing a tissue to his nose. Without another word, they leave.

I stand there, stunned. Tara pulls me into a hug.” It’ll be okay, Buffy. He’s just shocked. This will all blow over before you know it.”

I let her rock me for a moment, feeling comforted. Reluctantly, I break free. “I don’t think he...”

The doorbell rings. I run to the door, throwing it open. “Xander-“

A pizza delivery boy is standing there, laden with boxes. “That’ll be .62, ma’am.”

I turn around, looking for my purse. I grab the cash and hand it to him. “Keep the change.”

I put the pizza boxes on the table in the dining room. Willow is typing on her computer. She won’t make eye contact. Walking into the kitchen, Dawn is holding the baby, chatting with Cordelia.

“He is so cute. But I don’t know how you can stand listening to him cry. I had to put some music on, slap on my headphones to drown it out…” Seeing me, she smiles. “Where is Spike?”

Right on cue, Angel and Spike come in through the kitchen door. They have on matching grim expressions. Spike’s face lights up when he sees Dawn. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and kisses her cheek. “Missed you to pieces, bit.”

She hugs him back hard. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

Spike looks down. “So this is the spawn of Angelus, right?” He looks at Angel. “Can I hold him?” he asks. Angel looks at him as if he has grown another head. “I just want to hold him, not eat him,” he says sarcastically. Dawn carefully hands him Connor. Spike cradles the baby, looking at him with delight. He paces around the room. “You look like your mum,” he says. “What a bitch she was. Bleeding gorgeous woman, though. Good thing you take after her. Your dad’s got an ugly mug. What with the big brow and all.” Spike gestures at his forehead.

I look over at Angel, expecting an imminent meltdown. But he is just watching with a small smile on his face. At that moment, it hits me that he really is a father. His face is full of pride, and unconditional love. The baby starts to cry. Spike whispers in his ear, patting him gently on the back. Soon the baby is asleep. Spike watches him closely, his face open and happy. I’ve only ever seen him look that way at Dawn, or me.

It feels like someone is squeezing a fist around my heart. The love that I feel is overwhelming. I don’t even realize that I’m crying until Angel puts his hand on my shoulder. “Buffy, are you okay?” I try to answer him, but I can’t choke out the words. Turning, I walk through the door onto the back porch. I sit in the dark, pulling myself together.

The door opens and Spike sits down next to me. He turns my face towards him, wiping away my tears with his thumb.

“I’m never going to have a normal life,” I say. “Xander and Willow, they understand that being with you is not normal. They want me to be happy, to have all the stuff everyone else wants. Marriage, house, minivan, kids.”

I look over at him. He is staring at me, thoughtfully. “Well, truly enough I’m not the white picket fence kind of guy.”

“We’ll never have that. No big, fancy wedding. No Tupperware parties.” I fight to keep tears out of my eyes. “No babies. I mean, not that I would even know what to do with a baby. But knowing, that it will never, never be us. It hurts.”

He sighs, stroking my hair. “Well, you could have that. Just not with me. With someone else-”

Turning to him, I cup his face in my hands. “I’m yours. You’re mine. There is no one else.”

He kisses me fiercely, his hands threaded in my hair. I slip my hands underneath his shirt, feeling the coolness of his skin.

Our kiss continues, deepens. I can tell him everything with my body that it is so hard to say. How much I need him. How desperate I was at the thought of losing him. How beautiful he is to me.

He pulls me into his lap, holding my hips and rubbing me against his erection. It feels too good, leaving us panting. “God, I want to take you,” he murmurs in my throat. He bites my neck, small bites that deepen as his arousal grows. My nipples harden and I grow wet, needing more. He slides his hand in my pants, slipping a finger inside me. “I’ve got to get in there,” he says, biting my ear.

“We can’t, not here,” I whisper.

Take me elsewhere right quick then,” he says, “I’m not going to wait.” His hand slides up to my waistband, ready to rip off my pants. Looking in his face, I see he is barely holding on. Spike’s ready to take me right there, on the porch.

Pulling him through the empty kitchen, we hear laughter and chatting from the dining room. We run upstairs. Slamming and locking the door, Spike tosses me on my bed. He sheds his clothing as I strip off mine. He stands there, staring at me. “I’ve dreamed of this so many times,” he says. “You waiting for me, warm and naked in this bed.”“

Suddenly, he is on me, in me. “My sweet girl, mine,” he growls, raising up my hips and driving deeper inside me. I clench my muscles around him, making him moan. “You’re mine to take, mine to fuck,” he growls. “No one else will ever touch you, never again.” His jaw sets, and I know he is already on the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, increasing the pace. Licking his neck, I can smell the blood under the surface. I crave it inside me, wanting it as much as the cock pulsing between my legs. Biting down hard on the throbbing vein in his neck, I drink deep, gulping greedily. The blood in my mouth is so rich, so good. Dimly, I feel a pain in my shoulder as Spike sinks in his fangs. We both come, groaning in unison.

My mind expands as knowledge pours into it. I gain the memories of well over a hundred years. Birth, love, fear, pain, death, filtered through the mind of someone I don’t know. I witness the birth of a vampire. I am flooded with the essence of Spike. Learning how to seduce, how to kill, how to hide. The rush to be gained from mortal fear, the thrill of the chase, the eternal temptation of blood, burn into me. I gain the shame of being helpless, the blooming of affection, the crush of rejection. I am filled with the light of hope, the ecstasy of the claiming and the triumph of love.

Suddenly, I am elsewhere. Turning around, I see that I am in Spike’s crypt. The windows are thrown open, flooding the room with light. Spike is lying on my bed in the center of the crypt. He naps like a cat, basking in the glow of direct sunlight. Walking around, I see a pitcher on a side table, blood pouring into two cups simultaneously. A weapons rack holds shining swords and brightly tipped arrows. Walking down the stairs, I venture into the lower crypt.

I am inside the chapel where the sleeping princess was. The roses are in bloom, filling the room with their scent. But the altar is gone. In its place is a large mirror on a stand. Standing before the mirror, I look into its depths. I see the ebb and flow of human life laid out before me. Generations are born, live, and die.

Tilting the mirror, I can see my reflection. Standing next to me is Spike. He is wearing chain mail, brandishing a sword. I realize my image is dressed in a long flowing gown, crown on my head. I hold a golden chalice in my hand. Cuffs and a chain connect our wrists. I turn my head away from the mirror, expecting to see Spike. But I am alone. I turn and leave the chapel.

I turn and leave the chapel and go back upstairs. This time, I pay more attention to the room around me. My trunk lies in the corner. A display case of miniatures is mounted on the wall. The people I love are there, laid out row after row, interspersed with many I don’t recognize. Picking up a smashed one, I reassemble the image. It is Drusilla.

A large wooden bookshelf is filled with volumes. They are bound in either black or white, titles lettered in gilt. I scan the titles: “Slayers”… “Demons”… “Fighting Moves”… ”Poetry”… “Skating”… “Magic”… “Heaven”.

I turn back to the bed, where Spike still rests. Lying down with him, I rest my head against his, and sleep.

A knocking at the door wakes me up. Looking around, I am back in my room. Spike lies next to me, sleeping. Pulling on a robe, I cover him up with a blanket before opening the door.

Tara is standing there. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’ve been up here for a while now and Dawn is worried that something is wrong.”

I step out onto the hall, closing the door behind me. Tara looks at me. “You should straighten yourself up. You’ve got blood on your mouth.” Wiping it away with my hand, I wander into the bathroom. “Want me to slip in there and get you some clothes?” she offers.

I nod, brushing my teeth. Tara returns with a pair of underwear, a soft blue sweater and skirt, placing them on the toilet tank.

“That boy sleeps like the dead.” She turns and grins, then stares at me oddly. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine, Tara.” I tell her.

She really does look worried. “You look a little- weird.”

I take a good look at myself in the mirror. I look pale, and my eyes are bloodshot. Pulling my robe aside, I take a good look at the bite and bruising on my shoulder. They are barely visible. As I look at the injury, it heals completely, the black and blue marks fading away and holes disappearing. Tara gasps. “Buffy, what was that?”

“I’m not sure.” I try to sound reassuring. “It must have something to do with the bond. Super healing. Craving blood. It’s like parts of us are merging together. We are wed, literally.”

She is horrified. “But if you’d known. What it would mean. You’d never have- “

“I would have.” Don't do this, Tara. I owe you everything. You gave him back to me. “Whatever the consequences are. I just can’t lose anyone else I love, not again.”

She looks into my eyes, and sees the truth there. I see the strain leave her face. She gives me a searching look. “Are you going to be all right, Buffy? Do you even understand what this bond really is?”

“No. But I’ll figure it out.” I give her a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. Tell everyone I’ll be down in a minute.”

I shower quickly. Dressing myself in clean clothes, I comb my hair and put on a little makeup. Looking in the mirror, I see the same old regular Buffy. It’s like nothing has changed.

All of a sudden, I feel a chill down my spine. The chip. Spike hit Xander, and nothing happened to him.

On second thought, everything has changed.



Continued in Chapter Nine: Pay The Piper

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