The Slayer and Her Vampire
by Megan



Chapter Nine


A smile stayed stubbornly on his lips as he watched her sleep, wondering if they would ever get beyond the shagging to just say hello. Not that he was complaining. Bloody unbelievable she was, attached to his body like he imagined a persistent, sticky lolly to a kiddy with an overly exuberant tongue. But now the lust had subsided somewhat, left him lagging stupidly with the consequences of what he'd just done.

He'd claimed the bloody Slayer—and not through the weakness of human words, but with the depth and sincerity of his demon's heart. And Spike could do nothing but lie back happily as his bright smile threatened to crack his face.

Buffy's slumber seemed to falter and she rubbed the tip of her nose against his chest, a crazy itch that had dragged her from some of the sweetest dreams she'd ever had. "Mmmmmm," she hummed into his skin and her eyes shot open at Spike's rumbling laugh. It sounded so startling—probably because she'd never heard it before. Not without the taint of evil glee. And the being right under her ear was kind of confronting, too.

"You sound happy," she mumbled sleepily as she lifted her head and kissed his lower lip, accidentally missing his whole mouth in her laziness.

Her back slammed into the floor with an 'oomph' as he rolled them off the couch. He cringed a little in apology as he took his turn to nip at her lip.

"Sorry 'bout that. All m'blood was beginning to settle like I was a corpse." He grinned at her, even as she scrunched up her face with the little 'ewwww' that she favoured when her attention was forced to disgusting images.

"You just wanted to be on top. Admit it," she demanded, her eyes soft and bright with some kind of feeling he was so hopeful was the beginnings of love. He knew he was lost. Completely buggered if the truth be known, and absolutely chuffed with that result. He'd left pure bloody terror way back at the other bend.

He rolled his eyes, mock glaring at her as his gaze settled on her plump, abused lips.

"I'll admit it," he told her huskily, but didn't take it further. His kiss was brief before pushing back to just soak up her spirit. "So, I think last we were talking you'd admitted to vamp-napping me. What are you gonna do with me now, love?" His voice was hushed, divided with the need to tell her what he had done and yet keep it quiet; protecting himself from her anger should she not accept that she was now his. And all the while he hoped she could hear his alteration of the pet name, grasp the sentiment that was now infused in the once meaningless endearment.

"I think you turned the tables," she told him affectionately while running her knuckles over the sharp angles of his face. "And I am so not complaining. I'm all Satisfied Girl, and Happy-With-The-Situation Girl."

He stopped and wondered, piecing together the night until he was so confused he had tied himself into knots.

"Why'd you do it? I was ready to end my torment last night, and instead you've brought me into your home, an' against your Watcher's advice. What's that all about, pet?"

He drew unneeded breath deep into his lungs, just so it could sit heavily while he held it and drove himself out of his mind with waiting. With wanting romantic declarations that were far from making sense. Were too soon to be believable, even if he was verging on that revelation himself.

"I couldn't bear seeing them treat you like that. And I could see the defeat on your face, like you could do nothing about it. Except you could. I told you, you had me."

Yeah, he had her and he couldn't dull his grin even if he tried.

"You do know I'm a bad, evil vampire? Could take you in your sleep any time I..."

He was interrupted with light, tinkling giggles. "Yeah, cause you haven't had the opportunity yet. I've only been sleeping all over you."

"You're right tasty, Slayer. Thought I'd draw out the pleasure a bit. Save a nibble for later." His cocky self-satisfied smirk knocked her sideways, had her mouth flapping uselessly as her face burned hot with remembered shivers of exactly that. Pleasure like she'd never known before.

The minutes drew out as they suddenly seemed lost, drinking in their reflected expressions of mixed desire and confusion. Buffy was the first to shake it off.

"Okay, so now that I have you, I'm not entirely sure what to do with you. I kinda didn't plan that far ahead."

Spike's smirk was predictable of course, and Buffy could have kicked herself for giving him such an easy opportunity. But then she was left stunned when he kept all crude sentiments to himself, merely brushing a very soft, very loving kiss across her lips.

"They'll come back for me, o'course. 'M their pet cripple and they aren't gonna be happy the Slayer pulled one over right in front of them."

Buffy was nodding, knowing the truth of it by just remembering the vengeful flicker in Angelus's eye when he'd gone out of his way to destroy her after their night together. Before that thought could even begin to hurt her, Buffy blinked, bringing back into focus the naked form of the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

"Can I just ask what...um...kinda happened here between us? Then I can sort out the 'what to do with you' bit, maybe?"

He smirked at her, but it immediately shifted into a heart melting, glowy kind of smile.

"Do you really need to ask, luv?"

Buffy watched him thoughtfully, could see the vulnerability in his eyes even as he was hiding behind the bravado of Big Bad.

"You're right. I guess I don't." And she stood up, grabbed a blanket that had fallen from the sofa and wrapped herself up in it. She didn't look at him as she turned and took her first step to the staircase that would lead her to some privacy, hiding a smile as she almost felt his frantic efforts to stop her.

"Don't be a bloody bitch. You know I was trying to get you to tell me what you feel. But how typical, make Spike put himself out there for the Slayer to laugh at."

Buffy was quick to spin back and fall to her knees in front of him, pulling his head to her chest as she tried to reassure him.

"Spike, I think I just made you mine somehow, and I think I'm never letting you go. So we have to work on your legs and get your strength back so you can protect yourself against them. And so you can walk up my stairs."

When he lifted his head he encountered a very cheeky, yet somehow also hopeful grin.

And he felt courage and confidence settle in his heart.


~ * ~ * ~



Angelus had so far been unable to quell his fury enough to unshrivel his dick. Being laughed at, by mortals as well as a girl he'd fucked and dumped, was beyond a point he could deal with any kind of sense. His rage knew no bounds as, instead of pounding Dru into a mattress or a stone wall, he'd become impotent in that other than his fists.

And he was still to calm down his furious pacing, ideas spinning through his head at how best to pay the bitch back. She'd mocked him, she'd gotten over him, and worst of all, she'd vampnapped his favourite pet of the moment. Spike didn't get a reprieve, an escape until the day Angelus sanctioned it. He was head of the line and he'd be fucked if he'd let some scrawny-assed, bad fuck bitch Slayer waltz into his home and override his rule.

So, he'd make them pay for making fun of the head of the clan. Make little roller Billy-boy think twice for allowing himself to be at the mercy of his natural enemy.

Dru came slinking into the hall, her body clothed with velvets of another era and singing sadly to herself. She'd apparently dealt with the loss of her pleasure, knew that with the disappearance of Spike, Daddy would be too preoccupied and angry to get his courage back. It was a shame, because every little bit of pussy boosted his confidence immeasurably. Still, that's what good girls were for, and all she needed was a little tip to badness, a small suggestion that would get him back on track, and he'd swell inside her again.

"Bad Slayer, taking our Spike. She's taken him dancing and the dancehall is all white. But while she's happy and floating, mummy is all alone. We can take from her too, Daddy. Make her cry and want to give my Spike back." Her eyes gleamed with a madness tainted with evil clarity.

Angelus saw and smirked at her brilliance. Of course, mamma Summers was the perfect catch of the day. Not so bad looking in a more middle-aged way, but then she'd have something fundamental to bring to the family. Knowledge, familiarity and a second pussy to demoralize. He could see poor sad Buffy's face now, having to choose to stake her own mother or let her go and wreak bloodshed on all her ex-friends. It was a delicious concept and apparently just the thought he needed as his cock began to harden and he jumped at Dru, shocking her enough to get her chained to the wall.

She hung like a prize painting, her dress hanging in ribbons within seconds as Angelus shoved his cock deep inside her. He frowned. There was never enough tightness. Even virgin Buffy hadn't squeezed him like she should. He pumped in vain, knowing it would take close to twenty minutes for his cock to be stimulated enough by Dru's loose channel to blow and it just wasn't good enough now he had a plan.

Paying little mind to the awkward cross of her arms and the pained cry of his childe, he spun Dru around and found another treasure, thrusting viciously into a tighter hole and groaning in satisfaction. This one was a treat—not a passage he explored too often for fear of loosening it up too much. The laughing faces of Giles and Spike had him pumping furiously, his balls swinging in a rapid need for activity. He felt the anger surge, wanting to squeeze Dru's neck so hard her head popped off but knowing she didn't deserve it.

She'd never laughed. Never gave credence to the taunts that disparaged the size of his dick. She was such a good girl, his Dru. She worked hard to make sure Daddy was happy, that Daddy was rigid and good to go, and if she couldn't satisfy him with her loose hole, she sucked him into release, or tortured him there. Yeah, he couldn't dust Dru. Without her loyalty, what did he have?

Close to nothing.

And THAT was something he couldn't deal with, because Angelus was everything. Had everything.

Just because he'd lost Spike? Meant nothing, because he'd get him back. And then he'd thrash the bravado right out of him. He had centuries of time. He might have failed in the twenty years he'd had before the curse, but now he had all he'd need.

Spike was going to be put in his place. Even if it killed the good fine citizens of Sunnydale.