Table of Contents
Previous Chapter: Ministration
Next Chapter: Imitation

For being an evil soulless monster, Buffy was now thoroughly convinced that Spike’s mouth came directly from heaven. The way it made her entire body tremble, the little shivers going down her spine, and the very warm feeling low in her stomach… Yeah, it had nothing to do with being a vampire, and everything to do with it being him. 

She vaguely remembered that Angel had caused some butterflies. Vaguely. Nothing like this. Nothing like the spasms that were rolling through her and building up to something explosive. Something she’d never had before.

And somehow, they were still fully clothed. She didn’t know that was actually a thing that could happen with clothes on. Not that she couldn’t feel every inch of him through the layers of fabric. Because she could. She really could. But she always sort of figured there was some kind of insertion required. 

It was a powerful, heady feeling, being on top like that, even though Spike was the one in control. He’d made that perfectly clear when he stopped her from getting into his pants and told her to behave herself. She wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this as much as she was. Wasn’t supposed to be the one getting all the pleasure from it. But Spike was firm. He’d made her give up control and trust him, and she’d never felt so free.

She was so used to giving, it had never occurred to her that a man would ever do the same for her. Weird concept, but she wasn’t complaining. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t been taking care of her for months already. This was just… a new kind of care. One she hadn’t allowed before, for whatever obviously stupid reason. 

She was so engrossed in the good feelings he was giving her, she almost missed the sound of crunching bones. Almost. She tensed up on instinct, but didn’t even think about trying to pull away. His fangs were out, and it made her incredibly aware of herself, and of him. Her heart hammered against her chest, her blood pumping fast from the invigorating kissing. No doubt he could hear it, and he was barely inches from her throat. He was going to bite her.

But his body didn’t match up with that. He wasn’t sinking fangs into her without hesitation and draining her, like Angel had. He wasn’t even holding her in any kind of aggressive way. His hands were on her thighs, gentle as could be. And if he was really intending to kill her, or even hurt her, he’d have done it by now. He wouldn’t be waiting for her to react to it.

But she didn’t know how to. She wasn’t scared, exactly. It was… thrilling. And that was the scary part.

“Tell me you want it, Slayer.”

Oh…

She froze for a moment, conflicting feelings roiling through her. He was a vampire. A vampire who wanted to bite her. There was no way she could trust him. Except… she really wanted to. He had asked. He was in control, but, somehow, she was also the one calling the shots. Yes or no. It was all up to her. Get up and leave, or…

She leaned into him with a whimper, finally understanding what he was offering. And God, yes, she wanted it. She wanted to feel. She wanted to escape the never-ending monotony of simply existing. 

Tell me.” he growled, and the vibrations of his voice sent a shiver through her.

Yes, she wanted it. She wanted him to bite her. Wanted him to make her float on clouds like he had before. Make her not care anymore. About anything but the feel of his tongue on her. Wanted it enough to beg him for it.

“Please…”

But he didn’t bite. A tiny little pinch was all she felt. One of his fangs angled just so, just enough to pierce the skin. Moments later, that lovely feeling began to spread through her body. She clung to him, moaning and gasping with every flick of his tongue. His teeth were blunt again, she realized as they scraped over the tiny wound. He was so in control of himself, that even with fresh blood in his mouth he could rein himself in and revert to his human visage.

She was safe with him, even like this. There’d be no accidental near death experience caused by him. She let her eyes drift shut. Let him take her away. Up into the clouds where nothing mattered.

There was no evil badness to fight. No greater calling. No horrible memories to be pushed away every second. She was happy. Maybe not truly, but… It was a feeling. One that only Spike could give her. Something other than numbness.

And then, down below the clouds, back where they really were, familiar voices had interrupted, right in the middle of their moment together. Just as she’d been so close to that long sought but still never achieved climax. So threatening, so condescending. And they dragged Buffy back down to reality, right where she didn’t want to be.

Xander and Willow. 

“-Buffy?” Willow asked, all kinds of surprised.

“Oh, look. Just who I didn’t want to see.”

And she really didn’t. Not after what she’d learned. The thought of them made her sick to her stomach. Their faces were just a painful reminder of her badly placed trust that had extended her imprisonment. Because they were idiots and didn’t jump in when they should have. The way she always had for them. 

“Say, Willow,” Xander half stammered, “you didn’t happen to do another whacky spell, did you?”

“Me ? What? No! I have nothing to do with this! This… time.”

Ugh. Of course. I’m kissing Spike so it must be a spell. 

“Is there a reason you two are still standing here? Kind of in the middle of something.” 

She was beyond irritated. Which was sort of a good thing. Another emotion: anger. Check that off the list. But she’d gone from extreme high over to left field of bad mood in less than a minute, and it was entirely their fault. She’d tried direct right from the get go, and they still weren’t getting the point that she wanted them to go away and let her get back to the happy making neck sucking.

Xander took a step forward, further invading her personal space. “He was feeding on you! Buffy!”

Oh, he so was not. Not like he could have been, if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, that? No, that would be called a make out session. Something both of you are sorely lacking experience in. Why don’t you go do that somewhere else? Somewhere not here?”

“Hey … Buffy, if you’re going through something, you know we’re here for you. We can talk it out. We can help you. You don’t have to go to him just because-“

“Ohh , don’t. You’re here for me? Where have you been the last few months? Talking? Not making with the saving? And just because what? Huh? What was the reason you were going to give for me not going to Spike for comfort? Because he didn’t have to ask if I was going through something.”

She was well past irritated now.

“Buffy… look, we just want to help you.” 

Rage. That’s what it was. She’d gone looking for Spike for comfort, for friendship, for an escape. And he’d been more than happy and willing to give that to her. She wouldn’t even need it if they’d listened to him in the first freaking place. And now they had the audacity to interrupt the first happy moment she’d had in months, and tell her that they wanted to help. But, you know, only if she was going through something. Like they’d expected she’d come out of eleven weeks in Initiative custody and just be fine. Not only that, but they felt the need to judge her for going to Spike instead of them.

Maybe Dead Buffy would have kept quiet and accepted that kind of treatment. She might have even shoved herself off of Spike and faked realizing the error of her ways. Blamed it on the alcohol or something. Not New Buffy. She wasn’t having it.

“You know what? I have the sudden need to hit something. Think I’m gonna leave before I hurt somebody.” 

She turned back to Spike and kissed him, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek.

“I’ll see you around,” she whispered, so only he could hear her. “Hopefully soon.”

Without another glance at Willow and Xander, she pushed herself off of Spike’s lap, grabbed her jacket, and headed for the door.

Outside, the air was crisp and sharply cool against her overheated skin. She wasn’t sure which part had made her so hot; what she was doing with Spike, or the anger making her blood boil. But New Buffy had done well. She’d stood her ground, said what was on her mind. Things she hadn’t done before, even when she really should have. And that was something she could be proud of. 

She’d made it halfway down the alley when the sound of boots hitting pavement caught her attention.

“Buffy!” 

Spike.

She waited for him to catch up to her, and when he did a moment later, there was an awkward pause between them. Not because of what they’d been doing a few minutes earlier, but… If years of watching romance movies had given her any expectations, he should have been pushing her against the bricks and kissing her in the rain right about now. Except there was no rain, and he didn’t look like he was about to do any such thing. Even if she really wanted his mouth back on her.

“Just wanted to let you know, you ever need anything. Help slaying, comfort, somebody to talk to. Name it. I’m up in Restfield. Figured I’d stay close to home, you know. Just in case…”

Close to home. Something about those words struck her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she was glad he was close by. 

“Thanks, Spike.”

 

***

 

Patrolling was out of the question, with all the feel-good saliva making her brain hazy. Probably not the best idea to go out and test how good her reflexes were when she kept getting lost in thought and daydreaming on her walk back home. That was dangerous enough as it was. Vamps were still out and about, after all. She was kind of surprised that Spike hadn’t offered to go with her, but… He probably wanted to go work off the frustrations as much as she did. He was just more capable of it at the moment. 

So home it was.

And tomorrow she’d wake up and the world would be grey and muted again, and she’d be back to being a walking shell with no emotions. Back to pretending to be fine. Back to pushing away bad thoughts and worse memories.

She didn’t want to think about it. And she didn’t want to think about how long it would be before she’d have time alone with Spike again, so he could take everything away and make it all okay for a little while. The euphoria was still going strong, so she couldn’t actually worry too much before the happy took over again, but the voice in the back of her mind kept piping up about it every few minutes. 

She was halfway home when she had a disturbing realization. She was being tailed. Her Slayer senses weren’t picking it up, exactly. Not the way it did with vampires and demons. Even in her daze, she’d have noticed the telltale spine tingling that came with proximity to danger. Which meant whoever it was… Was probably human.

Her first thought was that the military was finally coming for her, which made her blood run cold as ice. She couldn’t fight them all off on her own, even on her best day. Not that many of them. Not when they used tranquilizers and tasers. The thought of… she shuddered. She’d rather die.

A hulking figure stepped forward, baton raised, and brought it down. Spike raised his arm to block, and the sound of the impact made Buffy’s skin crawl. The bone was almost certainly broken, but he hadn’t uttered a sound. No screams of pain. Nothing. An instant later, a boot connected hard with his ribs, dropping him down to her level. 

“No!” 

He was flat against the ground in front of her, blood pooling around his head. “Spike..?” She couldn’t help but lay her hand on him, to try to roll him over. “Spike?”

The tranquilizer dart in her thigh barely registered as she took a step toward the closest thing wearing camo. She managed a few more wobbly legged paces before she slumped to the floor, barely conscious, but still aware. Two hands closed firmly on her ankles. She thrashed. She kicked. She twisted and fought as much as she could. The grunts of pain brought a sense of satisfaction, even as she was losing the battle to stay awake. More hands grabbed at her legs, effectively taking away her ability to cause any real damage.

Spike.

He was still awake. Close enough to touch, if she could just reach out for him. Something solid and familiar. Something to hold on to. She wanted him to know… His fingers brushed against hers as she passed, just before she fell into unconsciousness. Her name on his lips had been muffled, barely audible, but there.

Buffy.

No. She’d never let herself feel that helpless again. If they were coming for her, they’d have to kill her. She wasn’t going back. She wasn’t going to be their little pet project, or a guinea pig, or an experiment ever again. It didn’t matter that she could barely focus, or that she was still recovering.

She was going to fight this time.

She changed course, heading down the closest alleyway. If she could funnel them, take them in in smaller groups, she had a shot. She looked for some kind of weapon, anything. Metal pipe, broken beer bottle, rocks. Even a trash can lid would work in a pinch. Luck wasn’t on her side though. She had to have picked the absolute cleanest alley in all of Sunnydale.

Whoever it was, they were getting steadily closer. Then their footsteps just… Vanished. 

Buffy spun around, frantically searching for any sign of whoever it was. Nothing to hide behind, really, so where’d they go? She knew it wasn’t paranoia. She wasn’t imagining being followed. She wasn’t. She wasn’t going crazy. 

She sighed, trying to calm herself down. Even the feel good that Spike had given her wasn’t enough to override that kind of panic. She turned slowly back around, scanning the rooftops for operatives.

A fist connected with her cheek, whipping her around and knocking her to the ground. When she looked up to see who the hell it was, she could barely believe her eyes.

Faith.

“Hey B! Gotta say, for being Miss High and Mighty, you sure are one hard chick to track down. I mean, I checked at your mom’s place last week, and you weren’t there. Checked the watcher’s, your pals. And when I finally find you, what do I see? You’re locking lips with someone other than your old lover boy. Gotta say, though,” she slowly licked her bottom lip, “this one seems like a better catch.”

Buffy sprang to her feet and threw a punch of her own. Faith side stepped, countered with a lock to the back that had Buffy stumbling to keep her footing. She turned to face Faith again, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do to win this fight.

“I like the new look, by the way. Trying to be the bad girl now? Caught the convo with your buddies, too. Not so tight these days, huh? You finally get tired of them following you around all the time? Or do they not like the new man as much as I do?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Buffy spat.

How dare she? Had to come back now, of all times. Throwing around threats was fine. Buffy could deal with that. But to have her eyes on Spike, just to be spiteful? And to make judgements, like she didn’t have her own issues?

“Ooh, snappy comeback, girlfriend. That’s all you got?”

“What do you want?”

“Funny you should ask. You know, I came back here to kill you, actually. You know, settle the score. But then I got a gift from an old friend, and… now I got bigger plans.”

The fight was inevitable. Fine. They’d fight. The bigger plans though? Great. Guess that makes Faith my new big bad, then. Just another enemy in the long, never ending line of things trying to take her life.

“Awesome. This is what I get with my freedom. Judgment and death threats.”

“Freedom from what?”

She was done with the idle talk. Faith didn’t come back to chit chat, and Buffy wasn’t in the mood to drag it out. She just wanted to kick her ass, call the cops, and get home.

“Let’s get this over with.” 

Faith smiled, then threw the first punch. They both dove into the fight, going all out from the start. Throwing flurries of punches and kicks and blocking and countering. They matched each other blow for blow, neither one gaining the upper hand for more than a moment before the other evened the field again.

As much as Buffy really hated Faith, this was kind of fun. Evenly matched. Both going all out, no holding back. Because even with vampires, Buffy never really had the chance to let go. They were never as strong as she was. Never had the right moves, or the right timing. The only one to even come close was Spike. But faith… Well, they could both go at it for hours if they really wanted to.

Faith threw a slower punch. One Buffy could easily block and use the momentum to end the fight before she got too tired. She put a hand up, expecting to catch a fist, but Faith grabbed it instead. She was wearing some weird metal thing on her hand, and it let off a bright glow.

The air around her closed in, and she felt like she was trapped in a vortex, getting sucked in and spun around and all chopped up and reassembled. 

When she looked back up at Faith, she saw herself. Not like in a mirror, but… Her actual body. She was so stunned, she didn’t react when her own fist connected with her jaw, snatched the thing off of… Wait. Faith’s hand. Her hand. She was Faith. Faith was her.

“What the f-” 

Her head connected with concrete, and everything went black. 

 


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Table of Contents
Previous Chapter: Ministration
Next Chapter: Imitation

Reviews ( 1 )

mother_of_unicorns
February 19, 2021 16:37

Several things-
I like how I am really able to really feel Buffy's emotions through your writing. My heart was legit racing with panic over being followed and my blood was boiling over Xander's invasiveness. I loved reading the makeout session from Buffy's POV, so thank you for that.

I think you've got Faith's voice down perfectly so far. It was not too over the top like how it is done sometimes in fics...and even on the show. Can't wait for the next chapter!