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Blood and Fire	By : addielogan Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 8173 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Buffy opened her eyes slowly, finding
herself in yet another motel room. These cheap rooms all looked the same and
had already begun to blur together in her mind, making it even harder for her
to get a firm sense of where she was. She had thought the few trees she'd
noticed in the little time she'd spent outside had indicated that they had gone
north, but she didn't know if they had stayed in that direction or, if they
had, how far they'd gotten. She knew there were possibly
clues in the room to their location�perhaps a phone book�but she was too
nervous to look. Spike had told her it wasn't important for her to know where
they were, and what if he was really serious about her not knowing? If he
caught her trying to find out, would he do what he'd warned her of the night
before and take away her free will? Buffy shuddered at the thought. That was
the one thing she knew would make this all even more unbearable.
Spike was sleeping beside her in the bed, but
he had not moved close to her in the night like he normally did. He was almost
to the other edge of the bed, his limbs kept in check instead of his usual
sprawling. He'd taken off his boots and shirt, though his jeans were still on,
and the sight made Buffy feel a momentary pang as she decided he had most
likely done so to keep his distance from her. She missed the feeling of waking
up with him curled around her, his body warmed by the heat he'd taken from her
in the night.
No�she didn't miss that. Not at all. She had to remind herself of that, shaking away her
first, traitorous thoughts that she knew must've been pushed into her mind by
the claim. Spike keeping his distance as they slept was good, second only to
him deciding he'd much rather sleep in the now-sunny parking lot.
Because he was a vampire, and for that she
did want him dust. She did. It didn't matter if the claim told her
otherwise.
Buffy's eyes trailed over Spike's still
form, a lump in her throat. He was on his back, his hands clasped over his
abdomen, and he looked like nothing more than a corpse. He made no movements,
his chest still, and she shuddered. The demon was sleeping, leaving nothing for
her to see but the dead body of the man it had taken over.
Her mother's Watcher, Harold, had always
made one thing abundantly clear to her�vampires were not the people they
had been before death. Those people were gone, killed the moment their souls
left their bodies. Vampires retained the memories of the person, yes, but they
were nothing but demons. It was a cruel treachery that allowed vampires to
blend in with the humans they made their prey.
Buffy would not fall victim to the ruse.
This creature she saw now was not a man at all, but a monster. He took the
lives of others for his own pleasure. Whatever man the vampire's body had
belonged to in life was long gone.
Her thoughts traveled unbidden to what sort
of man he had been. Had he been cruel like the vampire, or had he been someone
good, someone innocent, who had merely become a victim?
Buffy had never given much thought to such a
topic before. There was no reason to think about the humans vampires had once
been�the only thing that mattered was that their bodies would now become dust,
doing away with the demon that inhabited them.
But what had he been like? She had
found what information she could on Spike when she'd thought he was her
mother's killer, but anything on the man that came before the vampire was
sparse at best. She hadn't even been able to pinpoint an exact date of turning,
since his age varied from text to text, as did the name of his sire. Some texts
attributed his siring to Angelus, while others cited that Angelus was his grandsire
and it was Drusilla who was in fact his actual sire. His age posed even more of
a problem as almost every text gave a different date, ranging from the mid
1700's to the late 1800's. They did tend to agree on one thing, however�his
name had been William.
William. He was a man whose body she had touched many times, though she would
never get the chance to know him. The thought disturbed her slightly, reminding
her as the sight of him so still now did, that her lover was essentially a dead
man.
Buffy stopped her train of thought right
there. Lover? No, he wasn't that. She wouldn't think of him as that�she would never
think of him as that. What he'd done to her, this claim, had been done against
her will. It had twisted her, made her want things she never would've wanted
under normal circumstances.
Buffy wanted to forget what she'd felt when he'd fed the night before, but she wouldn't
allow herself such an escape. She needed that reminder of what he really was.
He wasn't a man. He wasn't William.
He was Spike. A cold-blooded killer.
A monster. He didn't have the capacity to be anything else. After all, a soul
was what allowed you to care, what allowed you to feel, and he was without one.
She cast one last glance at the vampire
before getting out of bed. She gathered some clothes together and headed to the
bathroom to shower, hoping it would make her feel better.
It didn't. She was physically cleaner, but
that's where it ended. She was still trapped here, still at the mercy of a
vampire. Buffy sat down in a sparsely-padded wooden chair, staring at the
closed curtains. She missed the sun, missed being outside and letting the
warmth wash over her. She wondered if she'd ever get to feel that again. Spike
had been very clear when she'd left to call Giles that she wasn't to go outside
in the day where he couldn't get to her, and with Spike around she couldn't as
much as open the curtains to even see the daylight.
Buffy had made the dark her home in her
quest to avenge her mother's death, but it wasn't at all she wanted, wasn't
where she felt the happiest. Back when she was living with Howard, there had
been a balcony connected to their apartment that he'd kept covered in potted
flowers. It had become her haven, her own little garden where she'd spent long
hours, just enjoying the peace and tranquility. Did being Spike's mate mean she
had to give that up completely, living instead in dank motel rooms and dark
alleys?
Longing welled up inside her at the very
thought. She knew now exactly where she was�hell. She was suffering,
stripped of her choices and her freedom, forced to hide in the dark with a
monster who would make her live through his evil deeds over and over again
until it broke her.
And it would break her. Buffy was certain of
that. What she had experienced the night before when Spike had murdered the
motel clerk still shook her, the memory of it screaming inside of her, her mind
and soul still assaulted in its wake as they had been in the moment. The
thought of it was something almost tangible, made more vivid from being
experienced through his vampiric senses, bringing with them an intensity she
had never known before.
The feelings rose inside of her like bile
and broke the surface as sobs. Her breaths came in gulps between the tears, her
body shaking.
Suddenly, Spike's arms were around her,
lifting her from the chair and brining her to the edge of the bed where he
could hold her in his lap, stroking her hair as he whispered gentle words
against the golden strands. His comfort both calmed and repulsed her at once,
her body reacting to the closeness of her mate, while her mind railed at the
horror of his touch bringing her any amount of peace.
"I'm crying because of you," Buffy
told him finally as her tears slowed.
"I know," Spike admitted, his
voice holding a tone of regret that Buffy didn't want to hear.
"Then you should know I don't want any
comfort from you. It doesn't help."
"You're not crying as hard," Spike
pointed out. "Besides, I can't feel that sort of pain in you, kitten, and
not do anything to try to make it better." He gave her a smile that
would've tugged at her heart had Buffy let it. Instead, she turned her eyes
away from him, not wanting to look at his face. It was too expressive, too
human, too much.
Spike tucked a lock of her hair behind her
ear before brushing his hand down her cheek, wiping away the tears he found
there. "It'll get better, pet. You're just adjusting, is all."
Buffy got off his lap them, pushing on his
chest hard enough to make him struggle for a moment to remain upright.
"No, it will not get better. Why can't you understand that? I'm not
like you. I have a soul. I have feelings."
"Hey now, wait a minute," Spike
snapped. "I've got feelings, too, Buffy. Don't think just because I don't
have a sodding soul I don't care about anything. I can feel, same as
you."
"No. No you can't. You're a monster,
Spike. You don't feel anything at all."
Spike jumped up, grabbing her by the arms.
He opened himself to her completely through the claim, making her gasp.
"Tell me, what's this, hmm?" When Buffy didn't answer, he shook her.
"Tell me!"
"An�anger," Buffy said, her voice
cracking.
"Yeah, anger. My anger. I feel
things, Buffy. Don't try to fool yourself into thinking otherwise," Spike
replied, his voice a snarl.
Buffy's eyes narrowed then, her head rising.
"That doesn't mean anything. It's just anger. You're incapable of feeling
anything good. You can't love, you can't care about anyone or anything."
Spike tisked. "Doesn't work that way,
ducks. Hate, love�both sides of the same coin. Can't have one without the
other."
"You're wrong."
"You so sure about that?" Spike
threw her on to the bed, kissing her hard until she stopped struggling and gave
in. When she began moving beneath him, moaning into his mouth, Spike pushed
himself up on his arms. "Do you hate me, Buffy?"
Her mouth fell open for a moment as she
realized how she had reacted to him, then her expression turned cold.
"Yes. I've never hated anyone more than I hate you, Spike."
Her response only made him give her a cocky
grin. "And yet here you are, kissing me."
"This isn't love," Buffy snapped.
"No, but I'd wager it's moved a little
past hate, too, what with that flush on your face and that delicious
wetness I can smell in your panties right now."
"Ugh!" Buffy exclaimed, pushing
him off of her and getting to her feet. She wiped her mouth roughly with the
back of her hand. "You're sick," she spat at him.
Spike chuckled as he sat up. "Am I,
luv? You're the one who gets off from the touch of a 'monster.' What does that
say about you, hmm? You said last night that you could never get used to me
feeding, yet there you were, writing under me like a bitch in heat. You like
getting fucked by a killer�so who here's the one who's really sick?"
Buffy gasped, looking as if she'd been
slapped. "No. No. You�you make me react like that. I don't want
you!"
"You can say that as many times as you
want�it's never gonna make it true."
Buffy couldn't take this anymore. She
couldn't stand here and listen to what he was saying to her, couldn't look at
that knowing smirk on his face. So she did the only thing she could do�she ran.
Towards the door, towards the sunlight where she'd be safe from him.
She didn't make it. Buffy had barely gotten
three feet away when the sharp bark of his voice stopped her in her tracks, the
pull in the command too much for her to ignore. "Stop!"
Panic washed over as felt him come up behind
her, pushing his body against her back. He caressed her through her clothes,
and Buffy trembled, her knees threatening to buckle. Her mind rebelled, but her
body� She felt like she was on fire, her skin itching in desperation.
This was it� Realization hit her hard and she wanted to scream,
though her own body wouldn't allow it. He'd done what he'd warned her he would
do�he'd taken her free will.
Spike leaned in, his mouth against her ear.
"Take off your clothes for me, pet. Show me your gorgeous tits and that
ripe, wet little cunt."
His words made her shiver, and not in the
revulsion she wanted it to be. Her hands moved without her thoughts, quickly
complying with his request. Soon, Spike was pulling her nude body against him,
letting her feel his denim-clad erection. He nibbled at the marks he'd left on
her neck, making the tingling she felt in them in them increase. "Lie down
on the bed and spread your legs for me," he murmured against her skin.
"Let me see it all."
Buffy walked shakily to the bed, complying
with his request without hesitation. Spike stood and watched her, smirking as
he did. She trembled as she looked at him through hooded eyelids. The fire
between her legs was more than she could handle, her desperation overriding the
last of her thoughts. Why wasn't he here, why wasn't he making her feel better?
"Touch yourself."
Buffy moaned in fevered desire as her hand
went between her legs, her fingers glazing over her dripping pussy. She bucked
her hips, her body screaming for release.
"More than that. Rub you clit, Buffy.
Make yourself come."
She responded immediately to his command,
finding the swollen nubbin and massaging it roughly. She arched against her own
hand, vocalizing her pleasure as she did.
"Pinch your nipples with the other
hand."
Buffy did, going between the right and the
left. Spike watched, never moving towards her, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Pinch them harder. I want to hear you scream."
She tweaked her left nipple cruelly, letting
out a hoarse cry as she did. Her hips were moving frantically now, the only
thought in her mind just how badly she needed to�
"Come."
Buffy wailed as pleasure crashed over her,
her mind shutting down completely as she rode the waves of her orgasm. Finally,
she slumped, her hands falling to her sides as she panted heavily.
Then, Spike pulled himself back from the
claim again, letting her thoughts clear. She gasped in horror as she sat up, scrambling
to pull the blankets around her. Spike chuckled, watching her with a smug
expression.
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "How dare
you do that to me?"
"Oh, don't act so bloody
self-righteous," Spike replied. "I know you liked it."
"I�I�you made me do that!" Buffy
yelled.
Spike moved then, coming to the bedside and
grabbing her hard around the arm. "You tried to run outside. I already
told you not to do that, Buffy�and I told you what will happen if you continue
to disobey me. From you behavior, I thought perhaps you didn't believe me when
I told you I could take away your free will. Now you do."
Buffy trembled. Yes, she did believe him,
and it terrified her. She looked down.
"Lesson learned then," Spike said.
"I'm going to take a shower. If you're not still in that spot when I get
back, you'll be very sorry."
Spike left Buffy alone then, the bathroom
door shutting between them. She stared forward, her eyes going wide as she
caught her own reflection in the mirror across from the bed. What she saw there
disgusted her, but she kept her eyes ahead, unable to turn away.

***
*** ***
There's a few pretty dark chapters ahead, but I did warn you
in the beginning, so don't be too surprised. It will get better eventually
though, I promise.
Please remember to review. I'd love to hear
your thoughts on how the fic's progressing.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Blood and Fire