Third Time's the Charm

Please note: this chapter rated M for some sexy mature content!

Spike, Dawn and Xander worked on dinner while Buffy sat at the table with Willow going over the pages and pages of notes. Giles and the slayers helped where they could, but mostly the girls sat back and watched the Scooby gang in action. If any of them had ever thought, for a moment, there would be an evening where Buffy was back to her full power and a vampire was making them dinner, not one of them would have admitted to it.

“It’s not money,” Spike said over his shoulder as he stirred.

Willow looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Whoever’s got the genie, it’s not about money or all those silly things people think they would want a genie for.” He glanced around the room. “Xander – if you had one wish a genie could fulfill, what would it be?”

Xander didn’t hesitate. “My eye back.”

Spike nodded and glanced at Dawn. “Dawn?”

“My mother, here, alive and well.”

Spike paused for a moment and smiled, remembering Joyce. “My favorite Summers woman,” he teased.

Both Buffy and Dawn grinned. They couldn’t argue with that.

Spike glanced over at Chantal. “Et toi?”

She grinned at his mangled French accent. “Nothing, I have everything I want.”

He looked at her closely, as if judging her honesty. “A rare gift that!” He glanced over at Giles. “And you?”

Giles looked thoughtful. “The Cantor Animalis.”

They looked at him oddly. “The what?”

He flushed and took his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt. “It’s a rare text. A myth really. But said to contain rare spells.”

Spike nodded. His gaze slid past Buffy, he was to afraid to ask her so he didn’t. Instead, he continued. “See, that’s my point. None of us would want money. We’d want things that, come hell or high water, we couldn’t have. We’d want some sort of power. So whoever has the genie, he or she doesn’t want anything mundane like money or beauty. They have that already. In spades. They want what they can’t humanly have. Absolute and incredible power over nature and over life and death.”

They all looked at him in surprise.

“Tell me again why we didn’t listen to you before?” Xander asked in surprise and with a bit of regret.

Spike grinned and shifted into gameface. “Big bad remember?”

Xander laughed and Spike shifted back.

“Besides,” he said. “I wouldn’t have been this helpful back then, not in the beginning anyway. I was too busy being a pain in the ass.”

“You’re still a pain in the ass,” Sam said with a grin as she leaned over him and grabbed a piece of red pepper. “A hot pain in the ass, but still a pain in the ass.”

Spike smacked the back of her hand with the wooden spoon. “Sod off wench.”

Buffy eyed them and felt a strange sensation in her gut. Jealousy? She watched carefully as Sam leaned into Spike playfully and snatched another veggie. She murmured something about staking him with the wooden spoon and he responded by smacking her again. The girl took the hint and hurried back to the table, but there was a swagger in her step that Buffy had never noticed before and she took a closer look. Sam had been the last of the slayers to join the Buffalo team. Giles had found her in Kansas city, living in a cardboard box and fighting anything that moved. She was different from the other slayers. Tall and muscled, Sam wasn’t as light on her feet but she kicked and punched harder than any slayer, and she was known for sending her stakes straight through the vamps. What she lacked in speed, she made up for in instinct. She was an interesting combination of strength and innocence. There was a farm girl look to her milky white skin and clear, wide blue eyes. But there was a toughness that you just couldn’t deny. There was an edge in her glance and a certain disregard for conventions when you took in the dreadlocks and the tattoos.

She was interesting.

And she was clearly experiencing Spike worship.

It was obvious. Buffy remembered feeling it herself. She remembered seeing it on Dawn’s face. Even on Faith’s at one point.

Buffy glanced over at Spike. Would he?

“So,” Giles said, jotting down some notes. “Someone here in town, with an interest in antiquities, and a particular focus on Indian or Eastern antiquities. Someone with plenty of money and who isn’t looking for mundane things like wealth, beauty, or world peace.”

“I wonder,” Dawn mused.

Xander took her hand and kissed it. “What?”

“There’s a professor at the university, he’s really into Middle Eastern antiquities, and he has some beautiful pieces in his office.”

“What’s his name?”

“James McElroy,” she replied. “I’m not saying it’s him, he definitely doesn’t have the cash. But he probably has contacts.”

Willow nodded. “Let me look into him. Any other suggestions?”

“Check out Jackson Smith,” Xander said. “He’s a collector. Collects all sorts of oddities. Again, I don’t think he has the cash to afford something like this, but he might know someone who does.”

“Bianca Bellerose,” Dawn added.

They all looked at her.

Buffy gaped. “Bianca Bellerose? What the hell kind of name is that?”

Spike snorted. “Coming from Buffy Summers. Pot calling the kettle black that is pet.”

She arched a brow and glared at him. “Yes Spike?”

He flushed and turned back to his stir-fry. “Just saying...there are all sorts of unusual names.” He looked over at Sam. “Set the table please.”

The girl jumped to obey and Buffy’s eyes narrowed.

“Bianca Bellerose,” Dawn continued with a heavy sigh. “She’s the richest woman in the state, one of the richest in the country.”

“What does she do?” Giles asked.

Dawn shook her head. “Nothing. She inherited her money. Both her father and her mother were old, old money. Her family traces its lineage back to some ancient French and Italian families.”

“And she lives here in Buffalo?” Erica asked, sounding skeptical.

“Not all the time,” Dawn replied. “But her family has an enormous estate on the outskirts of the city. There used to be a lot of old money in this town, shipping and steel mostly.”

“And you know this how exactly?” Xander asked.

“Her family pretty much built half of the university through their donations. There are scholarships and big galas and the like. She’s got a soft spot for this place.”

Asia shook her head. “Who knew there was so much going on around here?”

Spike poured the stir-fry into a platter and Dawn dumped the rice into a bowl. They put the food on the table while Xander grabbed the hot sauce and soya sauce from the cupboard and sat down next to his wife.

“You never know,” Xander said as he began serving himself. “That’s the thing. Everyone assumes all the weird shit goes down in like New York and L.A. And don’t get me wrong, lots of weird shit goes down in those cities. But the big bad weird shit? In places like Buffalo and Tulsa and of course Sunnydale!”

Sam nodded. “You should’ve seen the stuff in Kansas man. Crazy.”

Spike shivered. “Watch out for those crop circles and flying cows.”

She giggled. Giggled, Buffy thought, as she filled her plate. She shook her head. She was going to have to talk to Spike before this situation got any worse. He couldn’t continue encouraging the girl’s crush.

“OK, so we have plenty of options to look into,” Willow said. She set the papers aside and grabbed the plate of food that Chantal handed her. “I’ll do some research tonight.”

Chantal nodded around a mouthful of food. “We’ll ask around on our patrol.”

“And I’ll ask around at the school tomorrow.”

Buffy looked up from her plate. “I’ll take the first patrol tonight,” she glanced over at Spike, feeling suddenly shy. “You want to join me?”

He grinned at her, his eyes glowing fiercely in approval and pride and she wondered how she could ever have, even for a split second, doubted the strength of his feelings for her. “I’ve got your back slayer,” he said.

She returned the smile, and reaching over, took his hand in hers. “Thanks.”

She leaned over and kissed him softly. As she sat back, her eyes met Sam’s. She let the girl know in no uncertain terms, just who Spike belonged to.

***

Buffy pulled the stake out and watched in pleasure as the vamp looked down in surprise and then poof, was gone in a cloud of dust.

“Well done slayer,” Spike said as he dusted off his own hands and pocketed his weapon. “You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Three in one night,” she said with a shrug, “not bad.”

He grinned. He heard it in her tone. She was elated and relieved. He glanced around the quiet cemetery. It wasn’t the one he’d set up shop in when he’d arrived in town. Once he’d moved in to slayer headquarters, he’d given over his digs to Clem’s cousin who’d been looking for a place after his girlfriend kicked him out. He glanced over at the slayer, lips pursed, eyes gleaming. Really... It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Buffy?” he asked softly, his voice low and dark. He walked towards her. She stopped and turned, looking up at him.

“Yeah?” Then she saw the look in his eyes and something inside her shifted. She didn’t even glance around. What did it matter to her that they were in a cemetery? Her lover was a demon, a vampire.

Spike grabbed her and pushed her back up against the mausoleum wall. “God, you smell good.”

He covered her mouth with his, sweeping his tongue across her lips, teasing her mouth open and tasting its darkness. “I love you,” he murmured, over and over again, like a Tibetan chant, convinced that it would bring him enlightenment. “I’ll love you forever.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He paused and looked down at her. “What?”

She smiled and framed his face with her hands. “Thank you.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t ask me what I would have wished for given a genie and a chance to wish for something.”

He looked disconcerted. “I was scared to.” Always honest, he thought to himself with a grimace.

“I know you were,” she said. She shook her head. “And I know there will be a part of you that will always be scared to.”

He bowed his head. What could he say? She was right.

“But, here’s my answer,” she said. She kissed him softly. “I would wish for the ability to love someone with my whole heart and to be loved that way in return.”

“I love you with my whole heart, and from the bottom of my soul,” Spike said.

She smiled and kissed him again. “And for that, for granting me my wish, I thank you.”

He didn’t let her say another word. He ground his mouth against hers and one hand slid up her sweater and the other fought with her pants. He pushed them down to her ankles and pressed his knees between her thighs, feeling her dampness as his fingers teased a response from her. She gasped his name, her hands dropping to his zipper.

“Now” she panted.

“I’m trying pet, I’m trying,” he said with a hoarse chuckle.

She smiled against his mouth. “Try harder.”

He growled, his frustration causing him to shift into gameface. He froze.

“What?” she asked, looking up in confusion. She traced the ridges on his forehead and stared into his glowing eyes. “I love you. The demon and the poet. Don’t stop now.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. He pressed his forehead against hers and she felt the ridges pressing into her skin. She ran her tongue over his incisors and shivered. This was new. This was fascinating.

“I want you,” she moaned.

“You’re killing me,” he answered with a laugh, pushing his pants down. She kicked hers off and he lifted her leg high up, hooking it over his lean hip. He pressed himself deep into her, groaning as he sank inch by inch into her heat.

“Oh God,” she whispered, the prayer falling from her lips like spring rain, warm, wet and filled with promise.

He buried his face into her neck. Just one more sacred space on her body that he adored. He fastened his lips on the vein that pulsed hot and wild beneath his tongue. His mouth salivated. Soul or no soul, nothing could still his hunger for her.

He ground his hips against hers and sucked on her neck. He felt her muscles tighten around him, her entire body tightened, until he felt like he was trapped in a vice grip.

“Spike!” she shouted.

“That’s it Buffy,” he urged. “Let go.”

She pressed her face into his neck to muffle her screams as she experienced that beautiful release that only he could give her.