Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't sue.

Spoilers: I suppose through BtVS S5, but I'm doing some rearranging.

Summary: This is a sequel to "The Great Advantage of Being Alive." If you haven't read it, this one really won't make any sense. In any case, Spike's trying to find out what it means to be a man, and to fight at Buffy's side. Buffy's struggling with what it means to be the Slayer. Dawn wants to know if she's real, and Glory just really wants her Key back.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Archiving: The Sandlot, The Crypt, and anywhere else that already has my stuff.Otherwise, ask and it shall be given to you.

A/N: The title comes from a Pablo Neruda poem. The line actually goes "all the graces of the daybreak" but I liked my pun.
 

Chapter 2: The Taste of Darkness
 

"By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two/together in their sleep will defeat the darkness/like a double drum in the forest, pounding/against the thick wall of wet leaves...tie me to a purer motion,/to the constancy that beats in your chest/with the wings of a swan underwater..." ~Pablo Neruda, "LXXIX"
 

Spike went by the gallery first, only to find the "Closed" sign in the window. He frowned slightly. It was early in the day for Joyce to have closed up. Beginning to feel the first twinges of anxiety, he headed for the house.

Willow and Tara were just finishing up the disinvite spell when he arrived, sending his eyebrows straight up into his hairline as Spike recognized the ritual. "What's goin' on?" he asked, perhaps more sharply than he intended.

"Dracula's in town!" Willow blurted out. She was still feeling some excitement over meeting the vampire so many legends were based upon.

Spike looked around, his eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. "Don't tell me. Somebody invited him into the house."

"That would be me," Joyce admitted ruefully, stepping out of the kitchen. "I met him over at the gallery, and then he was just so nice..." She trailed off, sighing. "I don't normally invite strange men over for coffee."

Spike's expression softened. "Not your fault, pet. Ol' Drac's got a few tricks up his sleeve. If you didn't want to invite him in, he would have made sure you did."

Tara's eyes went wide. "Y-you know D-D-Dracula?"

"Sure," Spike said shrugging. "Poncy bugger's told the whole world how to kill u—vampires." He checked to make sure no one heard his slip. It was still hard to remember that he wasn't a vampire sometimes. "We were rivals once upon a time. The wanker still owes me eleven pounds."

All three women moved just a little closer, sensing a good story. "Why does he owe you money?" Willow asked.

"Well, see, I was chattin' up this girl," Spike explained, realizing he was going to have to be careful if he wanted to avoid the gorier parts. "Dru'd gone off, an' I was feelin' a bit lonely, an' I wanted some conversation. Then Drac comes along and steals her right from under my nose." Spike still remembered the rank arrogance of the famous vampire. "So I returned the favor a few days later. Kept on like that for a while, until there was this one—"

Spike stopped there, remembering his audience. He also remembered that he wasn't supposed to recall those days with quite so much pleasure. "So we had a bet on for who could charm this chit. Eleven pounds, and I won."

Willow frowned. "Why eleven pounds?"

"It was all I had in my pocket," Spike replied easily, his grin illustrating one of the reasons why he'd won. "But the tosser never paid." Though momentarily distracted by his memories, the small niggling anxiety blossomed. "Where's Buffy?"

~~~~~

Buffy's lassitude was bordering on the catatonic at this point. There was still a part of her that knew this strange not-caring wasn't right, but she was helpless in the face of whatever held her in its grasp. Hours had now passed in Xander's basement apartment, and she'd done little except watch the shadows move across the floor.

If she had thought about it—or had been able to think about it—she would have wondered why the Slayer found it so difficult to cast off Dracula's thrall. Buffy had thought herself immune to such things, though she'd never gotten the chance to experiment. What little she did know about thrall and its effects was limited to her casual perusal of Giles' books, and one of Spike's off-handed comments. He'd told her he hadn't the patience to learn the technique, and had added that he hadn't seen the need for it either. "Thrall's a stupid thing when you can accomplish the same things with a bit of charm."

In other words, Spike had never needed anything but a devastating smile, a pair of sharp blue eyes, and that little tongue thing he did. Buffy had believed it. She had experienced the talents of the tongue.

Even the memory of Spike's talents weren't enough to break her out of the trance, however, and if she had to say why, it might have had something to do with the inevitable showdown she knew was imminent. There was something about the darkness that Dracula represented that drew her in. It was probably related to her recent fascination with hunting.

The darkness drew her, and Buffy couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if the next bite she received from Dracula made her a permanent resident of the night.

So, she was ready to go when Xander told her he was supposed to take her to the "Master."

Buffy regained some of her equilibrium on the way to Dracula's castle. She had even managed to convince herself that the thrall was over, and she was in control of herself again. That is, she managed to believe it until she found herself putting down her stake at his command.

"Stay away from me."

Dracula simply smiled. "Are you afraid I will bite you? Slayer, that's why you came."

"No. Last night? It's not gonna happen again," Buffy said, as much to convince herself as to convince the vampire.

"Stop me. Stake me," he invited, getting closer.

Buffy glanced longingly towards her stake. "Any minute now."

"Do you know why you cannot resist?" he asked.

"Because you're famous?"

"Because you do not want to," he replied, circling her.

Buffy backed off. "My friends—"

"Are here. They will not find us. We are alone, always alone," Dracula replied. "I have so much to show you, so much to teach you, what you are capable of. Your history, your power, what your body is capable of."

The Slayer blinked, suddenly recalling the conversation she'd had with Spike. He had understood; Spike had known, and not seen anything to be wary of. "I don't need you to teach me anything."

Dracula merely raised an eyebrow. "Who better than someone who lives in the darkness to give you your first taste of it?" With a casual gesture, the vampire slid one fingernail along his wrist, raising a thin line of blood.

Buffy took a step back. "I won't—"

"Just a taste, Slayer," he assured her. "I have not taken enough from you yet to change you."

Dracula had been right about one thing; she was drawn to the darkness, to him. There was a part of her that longed for the taste that he offered. She bent, but against her will, and a voice interrupted.

"Stealing my girl again, Vlad? Why can't you ever get your own?"

~~~~~

Hearing what had happened with the Slayer told Spike all he needed to know. Dracula had placed his mark on her neck, and Buffy wouldn't be able to resist the pull he'd placed on her mind. Buffy shouldn't have allowed the wanker to bite her in the first place.

Spike didn't want to admit to how much it rankled that old Drac got the chance to sup while he'd never enjoyed the opportunity.

After a quick word to the girls, Spike took off for Xander's place. He knew that if Buffy really wanted to go somewhere, Xander would have no chance of stopping her. When he arrived, however, Harris' mom told him that he'd just left with "that Buffy girl." Spike stood on their front lawn, running a hand through his hair. Where the bloody hell was he supposed to go now?

He knew Drac favored the more high-brow places, but it would take hours to check all of them out, and Spike didn't have time for that. He frowned. On a whim, he took out his new cell phone and dialed the shipping place he and Joyce used. It was the only reliable company that operated in Sunnydale.

Using his most persuasive tone, Spike convinced the lady who answered the phone to not only inform him that they'd had a delivery just a day or so previous from which two of their men had never returned, but also the address of said delivery.

Spike chuckled darkly, sliding behind the wheel of his car again. "Trust Drac to be all traditional. Bloody idiot will never learn to change things up. Always has to be shipped by crate, packed in dirt from the soddin' motherland."

It took him only a few minutes to get there, and Spike found himself standing in front of a castle that was right out of a Gothic romance. Muttering curses to himself all the way inside, he made his way through the halls.

He didn't bother looking for Xander or Giles. They would be safe enough while Dracula was focused on the Slayer. Of course, while he wasn't looking for Xander, that didn't mean he wasn't going to find him. The younger man got in his way as Spike headed for the inner sanctum of the castle. "No one hurts the Master."

Spike's eyebrows went up. "Bloody git always has to have his bug-eaters," he grumbled.

"If you want to get to the Master you have to go through me," Xander said, ignoring Spike's commentary.

"Yeah, okay," Spike replied, throwing a mean left hook that took him out with one blow. "Sorry, mate," he muttered as he stepped over Xander's still form on his way to find Buffy.

Spike didn't try to analyze the rush of jealousy he felt as he walked into the great room, firelight giving the room that dim, romantic glow that Dracula had always favored. He had never quite understood some of the older vampires' desire for the olden days, before electricity and such. The lack of open flames could only be a good thing in Spike's mind, and he'd loved TV.

It wasn't the atmosphere that caused his anger. It was Buffy's position, leaning over the vampire's bleeding wrist. Spike knew there was no way Buffy could be turned, not if she was conscious enough to stand on her own. He understood the kind of intimacy that the sharing of blood connoted among vampires, though. If Spike thought that the Slayer was operating under her own power, or that she understood what Dracula was offering, he would have been a lot more than angry.

But it was his jealousy that spoke. "Stealing my girl again, Vlad? Why can't you ever get your own?"

Dracula looked over to where he stood in the doorway. "William. I don't see your name on her."

It was a childish, schoolyard comment, and it put a smirk on Spike's face. He was no longer an adolescent, playing games winning girls' hearts. He was a man, and the girl was his. "No? You looked at her hand, mate? She's got my ring on, doesn't she?"

Dracula blinked, beginning to realize that Spike had made a fundamental change. "You think you can hold her?" he asked incredulously. "You belong to the daylight now, William. You have nothing to offer her."

"Wrong," Spike replied in a hard tone. "I can offer her everything." He looked over at Buffy. "Nice to see you, luv."

"Same here," she managed. "Did Giles call you?"

"Walked in on the disinvite spell," Spike explained. "Thought I might come give you a hand, maybe renew my acquaintance with the poncy bugger standin' in front of you."

Buffy smiled and seemed to pull back, taking a step towards Spike. "I don't think so," Dracula said, reasserting his will. "Taste, Slayer. You will see that I can offer you more than any mere mortal. I can teach you who you are."

"Slayer's a creature of the daylight, Drac," Spike replied. "She doesn't belong in the dark."

"And yet she seeks it," Dracula replied with a coy smile. "Have you yet begun to wonder, William? How long can you hope to hold her attention?" He looked back at Buffy. "Taste, and see," he said, and this time the Slayer couldn't resist.

Spike watched as Buffy sucked at his wrist, drawing in a deep breath. The taste might give her clarity. It might, as Dracula said, give her a taste for the dark. And if Buffy decided that was where she wanted to go, Spike knew he wasn't strong enough to stop her.

He watched the emotions play across her face, and he knew exactly when Dracula had lost his hold. Buffy straightened, a cool little smile playing over her lips. "Okay, now that was gross."

Dracula frowned. "You are resisting."

"Looks like." Buffy looked over at Spike. "Hey, honey. How was your trip?"

"Good," he replied, a grin beginning to light up his features. "You need any help?"

"Nope," Buffy said. "I'm just going to give Dracula here a taste of the Slayer. If you want, you can stay and watch me kick his ass."

"Always a pleasure," he responded, watching as the vampire went after her with a roar. Spike knew that at least half of Dracula's fury stemmed from having had an audience to witness his failure with the Slayer. The fight ranged over the entire hall, with Spike standing at the edge, an eager spectator. Even though he loved the fight as much as Buffy did, he got just as much pleasure from watching the Slayer do battle.

Had he still been a poet, she would have been an endless source of inspiration.

Her last move was a spectacular one, staking Dracula just as he rematerialized on the landing, and Spike realized that she'd been showing off for him. With a broad grin, he came to join her in the middle of the hall. "Hello, luv," he murmured, kissing her.

"Hello, yourself," she said, returning the embrace with feeling. They were interrupted by Xander's dramatic entrance.

"Where is he?" Xander demanded. "Where's the creep that turned me into his spider-eating Man-bitch?"

Spike and Buffy exchanged looks. "Slayer already took care of him, Harris," Spike said apologetically.

"Dammit!" Xander exploded. "I'm sick of this crap. I'm sick of being the guy that eats insects and gets the funny syphilis. As of this moment it's over. I'm done being everybody's butt-monkey."

"Right," Buffy said, trying to keep a straight face. "No more butt-monkey."

Spike nodded, a suspicious twinkle in his eye. "That's the spirit, mate."

Xander looked from one to the other, trying to decide if he was being made fun of. Buffy looked over at Spike. "You know, you'd probably better look for Giles. Dracula said something about my friends not finding us."

"What are you going to do?" Xander asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm going to make sure Dracula doesn't come back."

~~~~~

The next day Buffy met Spike at the gallery, with plans for a nice stroll back to her house where her mom was making dinner for the both of them. "So, you ready for the beach tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," Spike replied, sounding distracted.

Buffy frowned. "You don't sound too thrilled."

He seemed to shake his mood off. "Not that, luv. Just a lot on my mind right now, 's all."

"You're not mad about Dracula, are you?" Buffy asked. Spike could read her like a book, but she was beginning to be able to read his moods as well.

He looked over at her, surprised and guilty. "No. I mean, I know it wasn't your fault, Buffy. 've known Dracula for a while now, so it's not like I don't know what he's capable of."

"It's about him biting me, isn't it?" she asked, feeling as though she'd gotten pretty close when she saw him trying to hide a wince. "Spike—"

"You don't understand, Slayer," he said, cutting her off, a touch of impatience in his voice. "You don't know what a bite means to a vampire. It's more than just the blood, 'specially when the vamp is Dracula and the girl's the Slayer."

Buffy gave him an incredulous stare. "You mean it's about the sex. Spike! I would never—"

"Not about you," he said, almost grimly, and Buffy got a glimmer of understanding.

Tentatively, she reached out for his hand. "It's about you."

"I don't want to be a vampire, Buffy. Not anymore, not with what I've learned about bein' alive." Spike sighed. "I wouldn't go back for all the tea in China, but that doesn't mean I don't remember, that I don't look back and wish..."

When Spike trailed off, Buffy leaned in closer. She had been his first, in a lot of ways. She had certainly been the first lover he'd had as a human. Buffy, on the other hand, had had other lovers, human and vampire. She had been bitten three times, and none of those times had been by him.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

He shook his head. "Don't be, luv. It's just me bein' silly. I know you love me."

"More than you know," Buffy replied. "You see me, Spike, and that's more than I can say for any other guy I've ever known."

Spike smiled, and gave her hand a squeeze, bringing it up to his lips for a kiss. "Did you check on Giles today?"

She laughed. "Yes, Mr. Subtlety. Not only did I check on him, I also asked him to start training me again. He's still turning bright red every time I say vampire."

"An' how many times did you try sayin' it?" Spike asked with a knowing smile.

Buffy smirked slightly. "Oh, as many times as I could get away with it."

They entered the front door of her house, still laughing a little in memory of pulling Giles out of what Xander had termed "the chick pit." Spike thought that Harris was just happy someone other than himself had been thoroughly embarrassed. "Hey, Mom," Buffy called.

"Hi, honey," Joyce responded. "How does pizza sound tonight?"

"Great," she said, heading up the stairs, Spike on her heels.

"H'lo, Joyce," he greeted her, sticking his head through her bedroom door as Buffy went down the hall towards her own room. "Made a couple sales this afternoon after you left. That lady—the one who's always wearin' purple—came in an' finally bought that print."

Joyce sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. I was afraid we were never going to get rid of that thing."

From down the hall, Spike could hear Buffy's voice. "What are you doing here?"

Both he and Joyce looked down the hall, and Joyce seemed to have just remembered something. "Oh, Buffy, I need you to take your sister shopping for school things tomorrow. I have to be at the gallery."

Both Buffy and another girl's voices rang out down the hallway. "Mom!"