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Summary: In an attempt to get over her grief for Spike, Buffy has cut herself off from her past life, and anything that reminds her of the vampire that's still in her heart.  But when a news story brings her attention to the battle in LA, the Slayer finds herself once again facing old betrayals and old faces.  Returning to LA she finds even newer betrayals and the possible death of her most secret hope.


Faded Hope

by bitchee

Chapter 20

As Spike felt his release wash over him, Buffy’s teeth claimed the unmarked place on his neck that he had offered.

When she’d first bitten him directly over Drusilla’s mark his reaction had been spontaneous and unavoidable.

His demon had immediately seen her bite as an attempt to claim him and though it was what the demon desired more than anything, the part of Spike that was and always would be William had refused to acknowledge the claim.

As much as he had wanted to say the words that would have made him hers for all eternity, there was still a part of him that had held back, afraid that she would not reciprocate.

She already owned his heart, but if he’d given her his soul and she still hadn’t wanted him he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to survive it.

But now, with her thoughts and feelings flowing across the claim, he did what he had wanted to do from the first moment he had realized he was in love with her.

As she gasped out the last of her own pleasured sigh, he offered her the unmarked side of his throat, a gesture of submission, and a statement of intent.

This time when she raised her head from his throat and he took in her face, still flushed from climax, eyes sleepy with sated passion, he was ready.

Her whispered “Mine?” was filled with such longing that he could barely prevent from sobbing himself, even as he answered her claim.

“Yours only, Buffy. Forever and always.”

Seconds later her eyes went wide in surprise when she felt his acceptance of the claim lock into place.

With his acceptance she too found herself lost in memories, both of their shared past and his last lonely year without her.

She was overwhelmed with regret as she saw just how long and how deeply he had loved her.

She had accepted that Spike loved her even before the soul, but now with the connection of the claim in place, she was staggered to realize that his soul had made very little difference to his feelings.

It took what seemed like hours for his memories of their interactions to wash over her, but in fact, it was only seconds. In those few moments she was awed to realize that the man she held in her arms had not only changed his whole existence for her, it had started long before the soul or the chip.

Even in his final moments, before he’d burnt up in the Hellmouth, his love for her was the one certainty that never wavered. His belief in her and his trust so final that even his last words to her had still been all about her.

She was sad but strangely proud to realize that he, in that moment, had truly believed that his denial of her words of love was the one last gift he could give her.

He had honestly believed that her words were said out of gratitude and guilt; he hadn’t blamed her one bit for what he saw as a sop for a dying man. His only thoughts were of her, how he could get her to leave.

As far as he was concerned, his last words had both released her from any obligation she might have felt towards him and gotten her out of the Hellmouth and away from Sunnydale’s destruction. She would live and that was enough for him.

She found herself more than a little angry at Angel’s reaction to Spike’s sudden reappearance in his office. And when his fear of being dragged down to hell was largely ignored by anyone other than Winifred Burkle her anger only intensified.

Swamped by his memories she felt herself teeter from one extreme to another, but through it all, she felt his love and determination. Both focused on one thing, the desire to see her again.

As Spike’s memories progressed, she only grew angrier with Angel while she found herself if possible, falling even more in love with Spike.

Sure he’d snarked and bitched at his grandsire and boy were they gonna be having words about his little peeping tom incident with Fred. But that was just Spike, it was in his nature and the Fred thing aside, she wouldn’t have him any other way.

He may have mocked Angel but she was not surprised that when it came down to it Spike still chose to do the right thing every time.

He’d saved Angel from the necromancer and sacrificed his chance at being corporeal rather than let Fred be hurt. And though he would not have admitted to it under threat of torture, she felt his concern for his grandsire’s alliance with Wolfram and Hart and what it might do to him.

By the time she got to his memory about the box of flash that arrived in the mail she was so choked up that she could barely hold back her tears.

A second later, she was back to being furious, and not just with Angel.

As the rest of his time at Wolfram and Hart flowed through the claim, Buffy found herself angrier than she could ever remember being in her whole life.

The partial shag with Harmony was only the tip of the iceberg and though she was so gonna punch him in the nose for even touching that big breasted ho, it was not Spike that bore the brunt of most of her fury.

Because she was experiencing his thoughts and feelings, not living them as he had, moment-to-moment, Buffy was able to recognize a very obvious and glaring change in her lover’s demeanour.

The claim showed something that Spike could not have realized.

From the moment he’d gotten the box that thrust him back into the land of solid, Spike’s whole guiding motivation had undergone a subtle and very pertinent change.

While ghosty his thoughts had been only of Buffy and Dawn, his need to see them the most important thing in his intangible world.

It seemed that the mail he’d gotten had come with a side order of spell craft, and one of the spells centred on his feelings for the slayer and her sister. The other was an even more subtle spell that blocked him from even considering there was anything abnormal about his changed feelings, or his sudden desire to stay in LA.

Oh, whoever had cast them was good, she’d admit that much.

If he’d suddenly changed his feelings Spike would have noticed, but the first spell was so subtle that to him it just seemed like he was doing what he thought would be best for Buffy. It played on his doubts and insecurities and before long he was convinced that she was better off not knowing that he was back.

By the time Fred became infected by Illyria, the spell and Angel’s taunts had twisted his thinking so much that Giles refusal to help warped his perception to even more new and disturbing levels.

The old Spike would have done his best to talk to Willow himself, no matter what Angel said, but the second spell made sure that it never occurred to him to even try contacting any of the Scoobies himself.

It was a testament to his love for her that he’d even made the trip to Rome.

Once there the spell did even greater damage.

Spike had known the slayer for seven years and loved Buffy the girl for nearly as long. If he’d been in his right mind there was no way he would have been fooled by the blond skank that was running around with the Immortal.

With his vampire senses and more especially his Buffy sense, he should have known without looking that it wasn’t his slayer that he’d glimpsed on the dance floor of the crowded Roman club. But he didn’t.

What was worse, when they had arrived back in LA Spike had somehow not only given up any hope he had that she’d ever loved him but had also, thanks to the spells, come to the conclusion that she had deliberately sacrificed him so her precious Angel wouldn’t die.

Being Spike, one thought led to another mostly bad thought, so by the time the spells had finished their work he was convinced that everything she’d said to him in that last few months in Sunnydale was all about her selfish need to keep him around, just to prop up her ego.

Even her words to him in the Hellmouth had taken on a darker meaning. Now instead of them being an attempt to give him what she thought he deserved, regardless of her feelings, in his mind, it became her attempt at making herself feel better by throwing the dying vampire a bone. After all, it wasn’t like he was gonna survive to call her on it.

The only reason she wasn’t pissed with him to the power of ten right at this moment was that even with the spells manipulation and Angel’s words, even believing it as strongly as he did, it still didn’t change the fact that deep down inside he still loved her.

He didn’t want to and he’d fought against it, but no matter what he thought she’d done or felt, there was a small part of his heart that refused to let her go.

Going into what he’d thought was his last battle with Wolfram and Hart it was his love and pride, that he’d been the one to give her a chance at normal, that had sustained him.

He had died for her, so she could have her normal life and now at the hour of what would most likely be his third death, he would find the strength to do it once more. She’d get to keep her normal, even if it killed him… again.

Of course, he didn’t die and neither did the spells influence.

Faith’s dammed lucky that she kept her grubby hands off my vampire. But I swear if she even looks at him sideways…

Glaring at the vampire still cradled between her thighs Buffy briefly considered forgoing the whole talky thing, the desire to pop him in the nose battling against her joy at having him back.

Spike could feel her reaction to his memories and looking into her suddenly angry gaze he felt a strange mixture of elation and deep-seated fear.

He winced as a very clear image of what she would do to him if he even dared to look in Faith’s direction suddenly appeared in his head.

It wasn’t helped by her sudden intense desire to go for his nose.

Her eyes narrowed and Spike felt himself holding his unneeded breath. Flashes of Harmony spread across a desk and a very wet and naked Fred had him raising his hands and grabbing her wrists before she could act on her feelings.

When her eyes widened he gulped nervously, his expression turning sheepish as he met her outraged stare.

Bollocks… Shoulda figured that braggin’ to Peaches about stickin’ it to the slayer would only come back to bite me in the arse. Bloody hell, we’ve only been mated five bleedin’ minutes and I’m already in the doghouse. Stupid fuckin’ claim. No wonder mating claims are so rare, eternity’s the easy part, it’s the first five minutes you gotta survive.

Who said you’re gonna last that long Spikey?

Her expression changed to one of amusement at Spike’s start of surprise.

Ok, this has possibilities she mused, even as she deliberately sent him the image of himself sleeping on the couch at her apartment back in Florida, along with a self-explanatory, crystal clear picture of a very frosty hell dimension.

“Ha Ha, very funny slayer” he drawled rolling his eyes.

“Well if that’s the way its gonna be luv suppose I best get my moneys worth now” he offered slyly even as he twisted his hips, driving his still hard cock upward and as deep as he could go.

Her grunt and the flash of pleasure he got from the claim had him raising her hands above his head until her upper body lay flush against his. Thrusting slowly, his pelvis ground against her, his cock plunging into her again and again. Her whole body shuddered with pleasure as the friction against her aching clit pushed her closer to the edge.

Despite her previous threats, the feelings and images that flowed across the claim told him without words that the couch was the last place he’d be sleeping when she finally got him home.

Twenty minutes later a very smug vampire curled himself around an equally sated slayer. Exhausted from battle and anxiety, but secure in a way that neither of them had ever been, they both gave into their exhaustion and drifted off to joy filled sleep.

************************

Angelus was angrier than he had ever been in his entire existence. And that was saying something considering he’d lived with Spike for twenty years.

When he’d found himself standing in a strange alley in the middle of LA he’d been pissed enough to rip someone’s head off.

Fortunately, the drug addict that had attempted to mug him five minutes later had taken care of that little need.

Slightly calmer after his brief spate of blood soaked violence, Angelus had directed his efforts towards working out just where the fuck he’d been dropped in LA.

After he’d successfully figured out where he was in relation to the Hyperion. His next point of order was to plan out just what he was going to do with the bunch of meddling cunts that were likely already plotting a way to shove his soul back into him.

With the rough form of a plan, Angelus headed towards his next destination. He had a demon to see about a certain spell and particularly nice piece of glassware called a Muo-ping.