Title: Breaking a Slayer 33-36

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Spoilers/Ships: This is AU. Buffy/Spike/Angel.

Distribution: Sure, just let me know.

Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com

Rating: NC-17.

Author's Note: This one isn't even close to complete, but with all of you begging for more, here's a taste…I'll try to write and post the rest later on tonight (Sat).


Angel strode into the mansion as the first hints of dawn were creeping over the hills and recoiled abruptly at the stench emanating from the kitchen. He raced inside, fearing havoc, chaos, gods only knew what. He found utter depravity and debasement.

Spike was touching his pans.

Spike was worse than touching his unbelievably expensive, chef-quality pans. Spike had dirtied every last one of them with unmentionable foulness. "What do you think you are doing, CHILDE?" Angel bellowed, waving his hand back and forth to part the sickening miasma that billowed to and fro in the smoky kitchen as he strode inside.

"I'm bloody well cooking for the Slayer, that's what I'm doin, you ponce. What does it look like I'm doin?" Spike growled as he hastened to use the last clean and sparkling lid to douse the flames erupting from his latest attempt at dinner for Buffy.

"It looks like you're ruining my very expensive pans. Do you know how much a single lid costs? I could have bought ten barmaids for a week for the price of one of those things. And they're crusted with…what exactly are they crusted with, Spike?" Angel inquired dangerously.

He looked around in concern for his mate and found her, rolling on the floor. He leapt to her side, concerned that she might have actually tried to eat something that Spike had cooked and was now suffering the consequences. It was far simpler than that. Buffy was choking back laughter so hard that her entire body shook with the effort. Her eyes leaked tears and her belly shook helplessly as she gurgled her amusement between gasps for air.

"(Ha, ha) he was (ha) making (he he) omelets (ha ha)" she gasped, laughing even harder. "He put (ha) the eggs in (ha he) whole!" She lost it and rolled on the floor clutching her stomach and giggling uproariously.

Angel looked up at his childe, now sulking and attempting to hid yet another burnt mess behind his slender form. Angel started to chuckle at the sight. His impassive mask slipped for a moment and he grinned, then tried to compose himself. Then laughed right out loud. Tried to calm down, then finally broke down and laughed. Deep, rich, belly laughs that filled the room with low, gruff laughter. He was so unaccustomed to it, it almost hurt, it felt so good.

Spike glanced back and forth between the two of them as if they'd gone insane. Angel was bent over, hands on his knees, laughing and snorting, gasping for unnecessary air, while Buffy remained rolling on the floor, her higher pitched giggles providing a descant to the deep rumblings of her mate. A joy he'd never felt before, living or undead, swept over Spike in that moment. Through the bonds that now tied him to these two predators of such disparate temperaments, he felt the hilarity, happiness, even…dare he think it…love that they held in their hearts for him. He gave in to the unfamiliar feelings and dropped the filthy pan into the pile in the sink and began laughing himself. It was a pure clean laughter, untinged with the sarcasm or spite that he'd felt before at the plights of some of his prey.

Buffy crawled across the floor to him, pulling Spike into her arms and trying without success to stifle the giggles that continued to erupt from her slender body. Spike stroked the unruly golden brown curls back from her face with tender fingers, gazing down into her hazel green eyes with a look of such utter caring that Angel stopped laughing at once. He straightened and moved to them in one lithe motion, drawing the smaller two into his strong grasp and holding them gently to his broad chest.

They stayed locked in each other's embrace for a long moment, giving and receiving love, companionship, and desire through the bonds that linked them so deeply together. At last, though, Buffy's stomach growled and the two vampires gazed down at her and laughed again as they stepped apart.

"'Tis a dreadful sound, indeed, Childe," Angel laughed to Spike. "I can see where it may ha frightened ye into burning a dish or twain, but how is it ye managed to befoul me whole lot o them, eh?"

Buffy looked confused at her mate's sudden lapse into the lilting tones of his native isle, but Spike recognized the reaction as one of great emotion. Perhaps he could get out of this with him skin intact with Angel in such a good mood. "You're the gourmet, Peaches. I just eat the stuff. You weren't here, I was just tryin to feed her. She looks like hell, you know." He pushed the blame off on the Slayer. After all, he was just watching over her…wasn't his fault the stupid stove was so damned hot. Not at all like coal. That took forever to heat up and had to be stoked periodically.

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him and said mutinously, "It's none of your business how I look anyway, Spikey. And I didn't ask you to cook for me. I can take care of myself. I was just going to order a pizza."

Spike leaned over and growled sensually into Buffy's neck, "Don't stick that thing out unless you're planning to use it, Pet!" He watched with delight as the Slayer blushed a deep crimson, pulling her tongue quickly back into her mouth and turning her head so she wouldn't have to meet his eyes. He captured her chin in one strong, pale hand, turning her face back toward him. He gazed into her eyes for a moment before leaning closer to brush his lips tenderly over hers.

Buffy gasped as the arousal abandoned earlier rushed back through her veins like lightening. Spike coaxed her mouth open with gentle kisses, nipping softly at her lips and flicking them with the tip of his tongue. Buffy opened for him and moaned as his cool mouth claimed hers in a passionate kiss.

Angel growled in longing at the sight of his mate and childe locked in such an embrace. He stepped behind Spike and leaned over the slighter man, pressing cool dry kisses to the nape of his neck.

Spike shuddered between his sire and (dare he even think it?) mate, all thought fading fast as he kissed one and was kissed by the other. Angel was teasing him, threading one massive hand through his bleached blond hair while the other moved lower down his back, stroking and caressing, drawing intricate designs upon the black t-shirt with an artist's touch. Spike's head lolled to one side to allow Angel better access to his sensitive neck and Angel took full advantage, moving his mouth to the carotid artery that enticed with borrowed blood.

As Angel sank sharp fangs deep into Spike's neck, his childe groaned into Buffy's mouth, pulling her into a tighter embrace and deepening their kiss until she gasped for air. His eyes closed in ecstasy, Spike was awash in sensation, sandwiched as he was between the blazing heat of the Slayer and the equally shocking cool of his sire.

Buffy grinned wickedly at him and sank to her knees before Spike could even comprehend what was happening. His jeans were yanked open by tiny hands and slender fingers cupped his straining cock. As Angel's cool mouth continued its slow sucking, Buffy's hot one enveloped him. Spike collapsed into his sire's strong arms and they sank to the floor beneath Buffy as she sucked and licked even harder, pulling groaning gasps from Spike's throat with every second. His hips thrust helplessly upward toward the heated wet of the Slayer's mouth, while Angel held him firmly in place with only his mouth tantalizing and teasing the younger vampire's sensitive neck.

Buffy's little hand reached out to pump his marble pale cock, and she twirled her tongue around the velvety head once, twice, thrice and then sucked him deep into her mouth with a quick, almost brutal motion. Spike exploded in anguished pleasure, pumping cold seed into the Slayer's waiting throat and shouting her name and his sire's over and over again.

Buffy climbed his pale body like a cat, sliding up him with sensual grace. She captured his mouth in a kiss and he tasted his cold essence on her tongue. Angel released his neck in that moment and captured his mate's mouth in a possessive, demanding kiss, tasting his childe in the heated recesses.

"Fuck me, I'll cook for you anytime if that's the reward, Slayer!" Spike growled, still overcome with the pleasure lavished upon him by the pair of them.

Buffy just smiled and quirked an eyebrow at him knowingly. "I'll starve to death before I eat your…cooking, Spike," she laughed. He'd not seen her so relaxed since…well, ever, really! Before the rape they'd been enemies, then reluctantly given up their hatred for a more controlled animosity. They'd never been close enough for her to allow him this near to her fiery emotions. Indeed, Buffy rarely let anyone see what was really going on inside. *Safer by far,* Spike thought, *for her to hold humans and monsters alike at arm's length.* Look what had happened to her the times she'd allowed someone in. Her first Watcher was dead, her first boyfriend likewise. Her first lover had killed her teacher and tormented her mercilessly until she was forced to kill him. Spike could certainly empathize with her trepidation, though he thought it unhealthy.

"Why don't you both leave the cooking to me, at least I know a burner from an oven. I swear, you two are enough to drive me crazy," Angel muttered, running warm water into his precious pans and preparing to clean them up.

Buffy walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back. "Just order me a pizza, K? I wanna go shower, then I'll eat and take a nap." She kissed his back, winked at Spike, still lying in a heap on the floor, and left the room.

Spike waited until his uncanny hearing noted the Slayer's footsteps entering her room before standing and pacing to his sire, a pensive look upon his face. "When are you gonna tell her, Sire?" he asked.

"Tell her what, Spike?"

"That we're leaving? I'm sure Ripper had a few choice words for you. Couldn't get the whole gist of it, but the feelings came through loud and clear."

"I'll tell her tonight. After she's rested a bit. He's coming at 6," Angel replied, wincing as he anticipated Buffy's reaction to the news. "Oh, Spike, she'll think I'm abandoning her all over again. But there's no way around it. I can't be here and not feed, I'll never make it for two full weeks. I'm not even sure if I should take you along. Your blood is so sweet, Will. It calls to me," he admitted with a rueful smile for his wayward childe.

Spike would have flushed if he'd been able to. Angel's surprising tenderness shocked him when it surfaced. Angelus had confined his emotions to passion and pain, not interested in the softer side. The love that Will could see in his Sire's eyes, the link with that soul, was affecting his demon in ways he'd never imagined were possible. He was starting to…feel, really feel things. And somehow, it was good. As if a light had come on in a room that was dark, shedding rich colors everywhere like a rain of renewal pouring from above. *Oi, mate, now you're composing bad poetry again, why is it that emotion makes you such a maudlin cunt anyway, William?*

Spike snarled in response, attempting to hide his bone deep reaction to his sire's words. Angel wasn't fooled however. He simply chose not to make an issue of it.

Spike leafed through the phone book until he found the 24 hour pizza house number and phoned in the extra cheese, extra pepperoni monstrosity that the Slayer was so inordinately fond of. The two vampires waited in companionable silence for the meal to arrive so they could go upstairs and feed their lover before tucking her into bed.

Chapter 34

The shower had been nothing but a ploy to get Buffy away from her undead lovers. She was surprised, actually, that Spike hadn't called her on it, since he'd only just extricated her from her bath. He was clearly too flustered by Angel's attentions to remember that Buffy had bathed less than an hour earlier. Buffy closed the door to her room and climbed onto her capacious bed.

Her real reason for escaping from them was more serious than trying to clean her body. Buffy knew, with everything in her, that Angel needed to leave again. He'd spent far too much time taking care of her already. Cleaning up her messes, babysitting the wounded little girl. It was past time she grew a backbone and let him go back to his life. He had a mission…a purpose that was far more important than taking care of her. Buffy knew that he'd never tell her so, but she could sense his growing agitation through their bond. She was sure that she was the cause of it. Buffy could just feel it.

She sensed an equal disturbance from Spike, though it was amorphous and difficult for her to pin down. She'd grown used to the bond with Angel and it had become another sense, much like her enhanced Slayer sense. She knew things that he was feeling without his saying a word. With Spike, though, her senses were confused. She couldn't tell if the problem was that she was confused about what he was feeling or if she was actually feeling his confusion. Whatever the truth, the fact remained that until they discovered more about the people who had implanted the chip in his head, he was in grave danger in Sunnydale.

Buffy accepted that for the moment anyway, Spike's ties to Angel and to her would keep him from feeding on innocents. But she doubted that anyone else would find that particularly convincing. Without any way to explain her inner certainty that Spike was changing, Buffy felt it would be best for him to go with Angel. But, god, how would she make it without them? She curled into her pillow and shook with the effort of not crying. She had to be strong, damn it. Had to think about others for a change instead of being so selfish.

Willow and Xander were back. Giles was back. She had everything she needed…right? Far more than she deserved, anyway. Other Slayers functioned quite well with no back up at all. She was being childish and inconsiderate. With them to back her up, she could jump right back into slaying and things would be fine. *And if I tell myself that enough times, maybe I'll start to believe it,* she thought.


The pizza arrived and Angel paid for it, standing away from the door so as not to encounter the harsh rays of the deadly sun. The delivery boy didn't ask why they were ordering pizza at 6 in the morning and Angel didn't volunteer any information. Once the boy had left, Angel motioned to Spike to follow and climbed the stairs to Buffy's room. He knocked, then opened the door to her chamber.

Buffy was curled on the bed and gave them both a warm smile as they entered. *God, she is sunshine, pure and simple,* Angel thought as he brought her pizza to the bed. Placing it carefully on the bedside table, he opened the top and extricated a piece. "Sit up a bit, beloved," he said with a half-smile as he leaned toward her with the pizza.

Buffy complied and Angel teased her lips with the tip of the pizza, brushing it across her mouth with a gentle motion, then pulling it away before she could bite into it. "Ah, ah, ah," he said, "what's the magic word?"

Buffy stared into his eyes for a moment and Angel could have sworn that the rest of the world just disappeared. Her eyes had never seemed more green. They sparkled like gems, drawing him toward her despite his intent. Buffy opened her mouth and licked her lips, still gazing into his eyes. She formed her mouth into a pout, licked her lips again until they glistened in the light of the lamp and drawled, "Please, Angel?" She drew out each phoneme, and his heart would have skipped a beat, had it one to skip, at the way she caressed his name with the husky timbre of her voice.

Buffy leaned toward him and took a slow, sensual bite from the end of the pizza slice, chewing slowly and trapping his eyes with her own the entire time. Angel panted for unnecessary breath as he watched her swallow. How could she even make swallowing look erotic, for god's sake?

Spike chuckled at the Slayer's performance and leaned forward to close Angel's gaping mouth with an audible snap. "At this rate, Sire, poor Slayer will starve to death and the pizza will rot away. Whyn't you let me take over, eh, Peaches?" He elbowed Angel to one side, grabbing the remainder of the slice from him and pulling Angel's now-greasy hand up to his mouth. Spike sucked his sire's fingers into his mouth one by one, cleaning them of salt and oil from the pizza, then turned and fed Buffy another bite. Thankfully, she didn't tease him. *Well, of course, bloke. Not like it's you she really wants, after all, William. She saves that stuff for Angelus.*

Buffy made quick work of the entire pizza, guzzling down two glasses of water with it. She finished by sucking Spike's fingers into her mouth in much the same way he'd done to Angel. She was unprepared for his reaction.

Spike moaned as she sucked each fingertip, his arousal growing with unbelievable force. He couldn't hold back any longer. His jealousy over Buffy's earlier teasing of Angel made him react to her with even more passion than usual. He leapt to cover her small body with his own and kissed her. It wasn't a gentle kiss. Not his usual enticement, nor even his tender teasing.

Spike ate at her mouth as if he was trying to devour her. Buffy moaned as his fangs dropped, sharp tips scraping her lips and tongue. Her hands went to his now-ridged brow and stroked the bony features. Spike growled into her mouth and kissed her harder yet. Buffy gasped for air but was immediately captured again by Spike's rapacious mouth. She stroked his sensitive fangs with her tongue and he growled again, hands ripping at her shirt to bare her breasts to his golden gaze.

Buffy moaned as Spike lowered his face to her chest. He laved one rose-tipped peak with his rough tongue, pulling and tugging at the nipple until Buffy was begging. "Please, oh, god, please, Spike. Suck them…please?"

Spike complied and Buffy arched into his cool mouth. Suddenly her other breast was covered by a second cold, wet, tongue and she opened her eyes to look down into Angel's brown-gold gaze. He stared up at her as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, his eyes caught mid-shift between their normal color and their vampiric hue. The sight of one blond head and one dark lapping and sucking at her aching nipples was more than Buffy could stand. The moment Angel slid one large hand down to cup her sex through her jeans, Buffy exploded into waves of pleasure…pleasure Angel intensified with his skilled hand, applying pressure, then removing it until Buffy ground herself against him in supplication.

Angel acquiesced, moving down to remove her jeans, pressing gentle kisses to her taut stomach as he unzipped and opened them. He kissed his way further down, lapping at her skin as if he could eat her whole. He slid the jeans slowly from Buffy's legs, then kissed his way back up to her cunt. Angel pressed his mouth against the damp fabric of her sensible white cotton underwear and blew puffs of cool, wet air through the cloth, teasing and soothing at the same time.

Spike had captured the nipple that Angel had left with his hand, stroking and pulling as he gnawed at the other one. He balanced Buffy on the knife edge between pleasure and pain, nipping at her aching breast with sharp biting kisses until she moaned in anguished pleasure. He twisted the other nipple in his talented fingers, rolling it and digging his black-painted fingernails into the fleshy point until Buffy shrieked.

At the sound of his mate's pleasure, Angel pulled the last scrap of clothing from her body and dove between her legs. He forced them wide apart with his broad shoulders and Buffy was totally exposed to his waiting gaze. Angel relished the sight for a moment, before leaning over to lap delicately at her moist center.

If this was the last night he was to have with her until his return, Angel was determined to make it one she'd be unable to forget. He sucked the downy hair on her mound until it glistened, teasingly refusing to move deeper, though she thrashed beneath him in supplication. Pushing her legs even further apart, until they strained against his shoulders, Angel spoke to his panting mate. "I love to hold you like this, Beloved. You're so open, so wanton this way, begging for my touch, my tongue, anything to satisfy your longing. If I could, I would tie you like this, with your legs so open that they ached. Your pussy looks so needy, Buffy. It's begging for me. Do you want me?" His voice had deepened with every word until the final sentence was more of a growl than anything.

Spike shuddered in reaction. Angelus had teased and taunted him in that same tone and he could feel the darker aspects of his sire climbing to the surface. Buffy was clearly helpless before this barely known aspect of her mate. She writhed and moaned in need, answering Angel despite herself. "Yes, Angel, please. I need you. Please…please."

"Will," Angel growled, "go to my chamber and get the ropes. You know where they are." Spike leapt to obey, hurrying back with the long, magically strengthened silken ropes clutched in his hands. Walking into Buffy's bedroom, he was transfixed by the sight before him. Without restraints of any kind, Angel had pinned Buffy to the mattress. Her arms were stretched out above her head, muscles straining and quivering as if they were already bound. Angel had one huge hand on each of her thighs and was pushing them apart until Buffy's wet sex was fully exposed to his dark gaze.

Spike offered the ropes and Angel tied Buffy to the four posts of the bed, pulling at her legs until she groaned in painful pleasure. Satisfied that his expertly tied knots would hold, Angel turned his gaze upon his childe. Spike shuddered in reaction.

Angel drew him away from the bed for a moment to speak in hushed tones. "Will, you must keep me in control, do you understand? I should be all right, knowing that I have to leave her tonight, but still, if I look too…happy, you have to stop it. Can you do that for me, Most-Favored Childe?" His dark eyes flashed to gold for a moment, then back as he gazed deeply into his childe's eyes. Spike nodded, reluctantly accepting his role as safety.

Angel turned and moved to the bed with one lithe motion, stripping his clothing away as he moved. He knelt between Buffy's impossibly splayed legs and put his hands on her thighs. She moaned as even that tiny bit of sensation summoned a new trickle of moisture from her exposed cunt. Angel crouched and bit at her sensitive inner thighs, tracing celtic patterns ever higher with his cold, wet tongue.

Buffy groaned and tried to thrust her aching mound toward him without success. The ropes were too well tied. She would have to wait for his pleasure.

Angel stroked cool fingers over the skin he had just wet, smiling at his own power when Buffy sighed with need. His fingers moved to her wet, dark curls and he tugged at them, watching her pink, exposed clit pulse with blood. He could almost taste it, surging there at his command, and suddenly the need to bite, to feed overwhelmed him. His fangs dropped, aching to sink deep in the tender flesh before him. He snarled, unwilling to hurry things, but caught up in his own desperate feelings for the tiny woman before him.

Abruptly, Angel thrust one finger into Buffy's streaming cunt, smiling with pleasure when she screamed. He added a second finger and scissored them back and forth as he plunged them deeper into her hot little body. She would burn his hand away, he thought, she was a volcano, a furnace, the surface of the sun. He folded a third finger into the other two and began fucking his mate with them, moving in slow sure strokes that forced her to raise her hips to meet him. He studiously ignored her clit, which must be desperate for attention, and thought about adding a fourth finger. Angelus had adored fisting his childer and victims until they screamed in pain/pleasure and Angel wanted desperately to be able to do the same. But Buffy was too tiny, too innocent of the darker aspects of his sexuality for him to truly let go with her (or so he thought). Besides, tonight was about her, not him. Not time to be selfish.

Instead, Angel continued fucking Buffy with only three fingers and leaned over to trace her clit with his tongue. Buffy screamed at the touch to her aching clit, and came just from that touch, spasming around his fingers as he sucked gently. Angel pulled back and moved his hand from her cunt. As he was raising it to suck her juices off, Spike grabbed his wrist and brought it to his own mouth instead. His deep blue eyes met Angel's as Spike sucked each long finger deep into his mouth. The contrast between Buffy's heat and Spike's cool mouth was exquisite and Angel moaned in renewed lust as he watched his childe devour his mate's essence.

Though he hated to admit it, Angel knew that he couldn't take Buffy tonight. Much as he longed to bury his cold shaft in her warm body, the moment would be too much, too good and the pleasure would be their undoing. Holding to this last bit of sanity with all his might, Angel instead pulled Spike's head down to his aching cock and slapped it against his childe's lips. Spike opened obediently, sucking the entire length into his talented mouth before drawling back to tease the velvety tip. Angel thrust back in, bumping the back of Spike's throat with each movement, then withdrew abruptly and turned his childe toward his mate.

Angel guided Spike's thick cock into Buffy's wet cunt, teasing both of them by dipping the head in and then pulling it back out. Buffy writhed in need below them and Spike strained against his sire's hand, desperately trying to get in.

At last, Angel allowed it, releasing Spike to thrust fully into the bound Slayer. They both groaned at the sight of Buffy arching to meet each thrust despite her bonds. Angel could stand it no longer and moved behind Spike to take his childe with all the ferocity and need that filled his aching body. He thrust home in one violent motion, making Spike scream beneath him as his slender body was crushed against the Slayer.

She thrust upward to meet each punishing stab and Spike was hard pressed to control his reaction. He leaned over her to suck one pink-tipped breast into his mouth, growling against her as her tight, wet sheath rippled around him. Angel was fucking his ass with long, hard strokes, each one grinding against the younger vampire's prostate with unbelievable sensation. Spike knew he was going to spill and latched even harder onto the Slayer's breast, tormenting the nipple until she screamed under him.

Buffy shrieked in pain that balanced precariously with pleasure as Spike sank one fang into her hardened nipple, tearing into it and sucking the blood that welled up. The piercing threw Buffy over into heady ecstasy, and she pulled Spike right along with her. Angel sank his fangs into his childe's neck in a dominant display, spilling his cold seed into his childe with long shuddering thrusts. Spike's slayer-enhanced blood filled his mouth, each taste like ambrosia to the dark vampire.

They fell apart and Spike and Angel untied Buffy's limbs, tenderly kissing the marks of the silken ropes before curling protectively around her tiny body and pressing soft kisses to her swollen lips. The three sank into deep slumber together as the sun moved inexorably through the sky towards the twilight that would herald their parting.

Chapter 35

Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued patience with my ever-evolving schedule. I am now in the running for editor of a local university's magazine…a full-time job that, I'll admit, I covet nearly as much as I want Spike and Angel. So I wait for news. In the meantime, here's Chapter 35, which contains quotes from BtVS ep "Becoming II." Three cheers for the second Buffy DVD due out in the States next month!!! -Rhi


Xander crept silently, well as silently as he was able, which was, frankly, not very, into the mansion. Giles had informed Willow and him that Angel and Spike would be leaving Sunnydale that night. To Xander, this news was definitely of the good. The sooner Buffy was away from those blood sucking fiends, the better. However, Xander wanted confirmation that what he'd seen in the cemetery the other night wasn't par for the course. If it was a one time thing, he could forgive Buffy. After all, getting caught up in the moment, however perverse and disgusting that moment might have been, was ok, in Xander's mind.

After all, he thought, as he plodded through the ground floor of the mansion, finding nothing but a vast array of copper bottomed, highly polished pans hanging and clanging slightly in the evening breeze from the kitchen, he himself had gotten caught up in the moment with Willow, which of course, heralded his breakup with Cordy. Xander regretted that with all his might. Nothing had come of that illicit moment with Willow but grief. He hoped that Buffy felt the same about her moment with the two vampires in the cemetery. Then they could all just move on to the living and start being friends again.

It wasn't that he wanted to be unfaithful to Anya, not really. But if Buffy was alone and grieving about the loss of her undead sort-of-lovers, then it was his job to comfort her…right? He had always been there for her, Buffy's "White Knight" as Angelus had put it. Xander just wished that Buffy would realize how much he had loved (still loved) her. The only time he'd ever really given full reign to it was when he'd been possessed by the hyena.

He'd claimed afterwards not to remember it, but he did. He'd pinned her to the floor and her tiny body had felt so soft, so vulnerable underneath him. He'd been so close. He could have had her before Angel if only…NO! That would have been rape and rape was bad, right? But still, she'd been so soft, smelled so good, especially once she'd gotten afraid. He'd wanted to bite her, to rip off her clothes and bury his cock in her heated warmth while he tore out her throat. It made him slightly sick to recall the feelings that his hyena-self had relished with such passion, but not sick enough to forget the ache in his dick that had come from grinding into her gorgeous body.

Jealousy over that lost chance was the reason for his only betrayal of his friend (love). He remembered it vividly:


Willow, bandaged and pale had turned to him. "Xander, go to Buffy. Tell her what we're doing. Maybe she can stall." And he had gone. Buffy's White Knight to the rescue.

He had caught up with her outside Angelus's mansion. Its dark façade loomed ominously in the twilight. He'd seen Buffy walking toward it at a determined pace with something wrapped in a cloth. He had come running out of the bushes on the hillside and jumped into the street in front of her. She had startled at his appearance and taken a reflexive step back.

Buffy had looked at him in surprise and said, "Xander!"

He'd replied, "Cavalry's here. Cavalry's a frightened guy with a rock, but it's here."

Buffy held up a stake. He tossed the rock aside and took it from her. "That's better," he said.

Buffy had looked at him with concern, a concern that he cherished. "You're not here to fight," she said as she started walking. "You get Giles out, and you run like hell, understood? I can't protect you. She pulled off the cloth and discarded it, revealing a sword. "I'm gonna be too busy killing."

Xander had looked at the sword and tried to be suave, "Now, that's a new look for you."

Buffy replied, much to his joy, "It's a present for Angel."

Xander said, before he thought, "Willow." He paused. "Uh, she told me to tell you..."

Buffy looked inquiringly at him. "Tell me what?"

Xander had paused to think and committed treason against his friend, then and there. "Kick his ass."

Without a word Buffy continued walking. He had hesitated for only a moment before following.


It had been the moment of betrayal. He had hesitated, but in the end, his jealousy, his hatred of the demon (and the man) who had hurt (stolen) Buffy, hurt Willow, killed Jenny and might have killed Giles got the better of him. He knew it and the memory shamed him. Even more than Angelus, it was Xander who had forced Buffy to kill Angel. Had he only told her the truth, she might have been able to delay Angelus long enough for Willow's spell to take effect. Xander would never know. And neither would anyone else, for no one knew. Killing Angel, not Angelus, with her own hands had traumatized Buffy to the point that she could barely speak of it to anyone. She'd certainly never asked Xander about his actions. He was grateful for that small favor.

Since no one was downstairs, Xander climbed the stairs slowly, straining his ears for any sound that might lead him to Buffy. Surely she needed him, needed the comfort of a friend's loving arms, even if only for a moment. He'd be satisfied with that.


Spike awoke in a tangle of cool and warm limbs, momentarily confused as to where he was and what had wakened him. He'd never woken alert and ready to respond, it was one of the more human aspects of his demon. Angelus had beaten him repeatedly for it, but he couldn't seem to change his habits, no matter what.

Looking about the room he discerned no immediate threat and paused to take in the bed in which he lay entwined with his sire and mate. Buffy lay, all golden and disheveled in the loose embrace of his sire, whose eyes, Spike noted, were also open, though heavy lidded with sleep and what looked like pleasure. Angel nodded at Spike in response to his childe's inquiring eyebrow and they both scanned the room again.

A human was in the mansion. They could both tell. Spike had no idea what time it was, but knew that Angel was expecting the Watcher at six of the clock. Still, this didn't sound like the Watcher. Giles, for all his typically British stiff-upper-lip and tweed (which still filled Spike with illicit nostalgia that he never let on), moved like a predator, albeit one just a bit past its hunting prime. This human moved clumsily, as if uncomfortable in its skin and unused to harnessing the power of its muscles. The tread was definitely male…the shoes…sneakers.

Angel snarled and Spike realized a second later, precisely which human it was. Then the door opened.


Xander opened the first door he came to, moving softly and hoping that Buffy lay within. He'd heard nothing yet, but hadn't given up hope of finding her. It was only five, after all, plenty of time for hugs and cuddles before Giles arrived at six. Peering into the gloom of the heavily curtained room, Xander could barely make out a huge four-poster bed. He stepped inside and moved to the bed as he saw a dim shape on it. As he moved closer the shape separated itself into three bodies, two pale and one slightly tan and Xander realized that he'd just made a very, very big mistake.

Two pairs of golden eyes blinked at him and a low, deep growling filled the room.

Chapter 36

Author's Note: Ok, well clearly from all the reviews I received on Chapter 35, everyone feels like Xander is in dire need of a trip to the woodshed. Far be it from me to deny my fans. Grin! Enjoy. -Rhi


Xander stared at the three bodies entwined so intimately on the bed. He couldn't take his eyes from the sight. Angel's huge frame was spooned around Buffy's diminutive body, his arm laid possessively across her and around Spike. His pleasure at being there was quite evident to Xander's eyes. *I think I'm going to go blind,* he thought in shock. *How the heck does she…NO, NOT GOING THERE! La la la la, thinking of something else now…* Spike was nestled lower, his white blond head resting on the Slayer's breasts. Mmm, nice breasts. Round and soft-looking and, shit, they're awake and they're looking at me!!! Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit. The growling that filled the room didn't disturb Buffy's slumber at all, she simply threw one slender leg over Spike's and nestled closer to him.

Of all the things he saw in the room, that instinctive reaction on Buffy's part was what disturbed him the most. In her sleep, at her most vulnerable, Buffy considered them safe. Considered Spike, SPIKE, safe. It was so wrong he couldn't even begin to grasp it. He drew in a breath, about to scream at her as he had the previous night.

Suddenly, Spike was in front of him, naked, growling and golden-eyed, with his game face on. His cold hand slapped onto Xander's mouth before he could utter a word. Spike growled, very low, "if you wake her, I swear I'll bloody gut you right here, and dance in your entrails. Got it, boy?"

Xander nodded, suddenly aware that he was seriously outnumbered by vampires and couldn't expect help for some time. Spike looked back at Angel and some sort of unspoken communication seemed to pass between them. Angel inclined his head regally (*God, how can he look regal and naked at the same time?* Xander thought) once at Spike, then curled back around Buffy, shielding her from Xander's gaze and deliberately ignoring him.

Spike cocked his head at Xander and snarled, "you gonna be a good little tosser and keep quiet whilst I get my pants or do we have to do this with me buck naked?"

Xander whispered, "Get the pants, please," sure that no matter what came next, it would be much, much better if Spike wore pants.

Spike removed his hand and jerked his head at Xander. "Get out," he hissed as he leaned over and grabbed a pair of black jeans off the floor.

Xander backed from the room away from the angry vampire in front of him. His bruises ached all over again and he realized that his habits with Spike were going to give him serious grief. He'd gotten so used to taunting the vampire, certain that no matter what he said or did, Spike couldn't hurt him. It had given Xander a chance to really let loose with the insults and jibes. He sensed uber-bad payback coming.

Spike pulled the door to the bedroom closed behind him nonchalantly, still carrying the jeans in one hand. His nakedness didn't seem to bother him at all. Xander couldn't help looking and noticed, against his will, that Spike was no slouch in the endowment department, either. *God, are all vampires built like that? No wonder Buffy is so…STOP, not doing this again. Ick, yuck, not thinking about size, no siree, not me. I'm Xander Harris and I don't notice other men. Nope! Never!*

*But Angel was curled around Spike too,* his traitorous mind insisted on noting. *Do they, are they?* His imagination built a picture of Angel thrusting that huge dick into the smaller man and Xander blushed dark crimson at the thought.

Spike smelled fear on the boy, stark stinking fear, but also arousal. The boy'd been staring at his mate and his sire, getting all worked up. The growl started again, without him even thinking about it.

Xander took one look at the predatory rage on Spike's face and ran, stumbling, back toward the stairs.

Spike swore, jumped into his pants and fastened the buttons while chasing the boy. He leapt from the top of the stairs and landed in one graceful rush at the bottom, in front of Xander.

Xander spotted the weapons chest and ran to it, sure that he was about to die and unwilling to go alone.

Spike saw where he was heading and let him go. *This should be fun,* he thought to himself.

Xander ripped open the lid and grabbed the miniature crossbow that Buffy was so fond of. It was already loaded. He turned and fired at Spike. The vampire moved like lightening, faster than Xander had ever seen him, and caught the bolt before it could hit him. He smiled dangerously at Xander and advanced, slinking like a panther on a hunt.

"That the best you can do, sport?" he taunted, circling Xander like a shark, totally intent on his prey.

Xander had never seen Spike so dangerous, even back when he'd been unchipped and planning their deaths. The vampire looked vicious, as if he'd happily tear Xander limb from limb and dance in the blood, as he'd threatened upstairs. Xander grabbed desperately at the chest again and came up with…a baseball bat? *What the hell? Well, it's wood, I guess.* He swung the bat at Spike and actually connected.

Spike hadn't been expecting Xander to have the balls to actually hit him with the damned bat. *Fuck, that hurt!* he swore inwardly, clutching his face for a moment before recovering his composure. *That's it, no more playing, Will!* He sprang for Xander, ripping the bat from his hands and throwing it across the room. He attacked quickly, but held back just enough to not kill the little git. *Can't have Buffy hating me,* he thought as he rammed his fists into Xander's abs. *Boy's been working out,* he noted idly, as the muscles he was pummeling tightened against the onslaught.

Spike punished him savagely, battering the boy's face until blood ran from his nose and mouth and both eyes were blackening. Xander got in a few punches of his own, but the vampire barely noticed them, so enraged was he.

Xander staggered back from the beating then ran, like a drunken rabbit, dodging and throwing on extra bursts of speed to try to escape. It was futile. Spike cornered him in the ruined garden, safe from the last rays of the sun because of the high stone walls. Spike bitch slapped Xander across the mouth with the back of one hand. The boy just hunched and took it. His face was black and blue, bloody from Spike's new beating. He smelled…he smelled like a victim. Spike realized that this one had felt the back of a hand many times before. It meant nothing to him to be beaten again, indeed, his reaction to Spike's punishment proved that. He expected pain, smelled like he accepted it. *No…something different now,* Spike thought. He concentrated, ignoring the blood with difficulty and slid his human mask on.

"So, you think you know everything, eh, Xander? You think you can call Buffy vile names, treat her like shit because she loves us? Because we care for her, you think she's a monster? Because she lets us touch her, she's defiled, is that it, Xan?" he taunted.

"You, you're all dead and evil and soulless. It's disgusting, depraved, dirty…" he ran out of d-words and switched tacks. "At least Dead Boy…" he stopped as Spike punched him in the gut.

"Angelus is my sire. You will refer to him with more respect if you want to live," Spike snarled, surprised that he was so incensed at Xander for the familiar nickname. Satan knew, Spike had enough nicknames for Angel to write a bloody book. But no one else got to do that, it was his purview.

"At least Angel," Xander made the name a sneer, "has a soul. Even if he can't keep it in his pants. How long before he looses it again with her? Huh, Spike? I bet they're doing it right now. And you're not there. Does he fuck you, too? How the heck did you get to join the party anyway? Last I knew you were all chipped and still evil, hating us and slinking around like some beaten dog."

Spike growled, dangerously close to just beating the boy to death, no matter what Buffy would say. *No, Will, she'll need him when you leave. Got to make sure he's there for her, no matter how bloody useless he is.* "Xander, let me tell you a few things that happened before you went out gallivanting around the country with your demon whore. That other slayer woke up, Xander. She took Buffy's body and you lot didn't even know it. How does it feel to know you let her down like that? You all left her. She got carted off by those Watcher types, had to break free and escape, tried to go to Angel for help and then got bloody well switched back into her own bod right in the middle of a drunken, drugged-up gang bang started by her good friend Faith. They raped her, Xander. Over and over, in every way possible and they beat her and they left her for dead in an alley. She couldn't even fight back, Xander."

The boy shuddered at Spike's words, denial springing to his lips. "No, they couldn't. She's the Slayer! She's too strong for…"

Spike cut him off. "Told you, Faith did drugs and booze with Buffy's body before the switch. She woke, magic-dazed, in a body too messed up to do anything. I found her the next night, Xander. Crawling naked and bloody through that stinking alley. Smelled like she'd been had by at least twenty different men. Could have let her die."

Xander looked at him suspiciously. "Why didn't you? You hated her, you hate all of us."

"Couldn't let cattle kill her. Not like that. Wasn't right," Spike muttered, looking away, still uncomfortable with the tenderness he felt for the Slayer.

Xander gazed at him from swollen eyes and nodded his head. "You love her, too. You really love her."

"Not your concern, Boy. Took her to hospital, got her all patched up and took her to LA. Chit wanted to protect Angel from Faith, even though she could barely walk." Spike shook his head at Buffy's stubbornness. "Brought her back afterwards and took her home. She walked into her house and her mum," his voice cracked. "Joyce was dead. Stroke or something. Been dead for half a day. Buffy blamed herself. Said she should have been there and Joyce could have gotten help in time."

"God, no, Buffy's mom is…dead?" Xander looked shocked and ready to cry.

"She lost everything, Boy. Her mum, her school, the house, even that uptight boyfriend scarpered off. Chit had nothing. Was staying in a dump of a motel, barely eating. All she did was Slay. Right good at it, too, but still, wasn't natural. I got Angel, dragged him back here to try to help her, somehow."

Xander was past shock now and into utter horror. "She had no one. We were all gone. She was alone. But, Spike, again I'm with the why? Why did you help her? Why weren't you happy that she was dying inside? Why did you care?"

"Dunno. Just do. Not your business."

"Ok, I get that she should be grateful to you, but god, that's no excuse for letting you touch her," Xander said, self-righteously. "Whatever else you may be, Spike, you're evil. We all know it. You brag about it constantly anyway. How can she stand to let you near her? It's disgusting."

"Oi! You're fucking a bloody vengeance demon and I'm disgusting?" Spike was insulted.

"Ex-vengeance demon and it's not the same thing," Xander insisted. "You're dead. You're cold, it's just…revolting."

A glint in his eye, Spike spoke silkily to the boy. "Oh, is that it, Xander? I'm disgusting, am I? Certainly you could never do anything so depraved with your pristine, practically virgin body." He advanced on Xander before the boy knew what he was doing and pinned him to the wall.

"I think you need a lesson in manners, Boy. Buffy isn't depraved for wanting me, just…sensible," he said in a very self-satisfied tone. "Bet I can make you scream, Xander," he purred, leaning one hand to either side of Xander's head and lowering his head till his lips almost brushed Xander's.

Xander tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. He didn't want this, hadn't thought about this, never dreamed that, god, what was Spike doing with his hands? Xander groaned as the shorter man ripped open his flannel shirt and traced the marks of each livid bruise on Xander's chest and belly. The skin was so sensitive from the bruises that the slight whispering touch of the vampire's cold hand sent nerve impulses flying everywhere. Spike traced Xander's flat nipples and he moaned, arching into the blond's touch to get more. Spike ran those cool fingers down and traced the waistband of Xander's jeans, jeans that were now unbearably tight.

"Take them off," Spike whispered, voice like rough velvet, caressing Xander's ears.

"Wha-what?" Xander asked, awash in sensation and totally unable to think.

"Take off your pants, Boy. Unless you want me to stop. Do you want me to stop, Xander? Is this too depraved? Am I revolting you?" Spike whispered, nipping at Xander's ear with blunt teeth.

"God, no. Don't stop, I mean, oh, God, what am I doing?" Xander was panicking.

Spike stopped his frantic words with a rough kiss, capturing the boy's mouth with his cool one. He drew back and whispered against Xander's parted lips, "take your pants off, Xander. Do it now."

Xander took his hands off Spike's arms. *How did my hands get there?* Trembling with lust, he hastily unfastened his jeans, sliding them down with his boxers and off of his legs. He stood before Spike, clad only in his ripped shirt, shaking with need.

Spike pushed Xander ungently to the rough stone bench and straddled him. He turned Xander's head to the side and kissed his neck. He was brutal and demanding, unleashing his frustrated dominance on the boy with no qualms. He bit with blunt teeth at the artery that beat so enticingly under Xander's salty skin, leaving more bruises and making the boy arch against him in desire. Spike ground his erection into Xander's, leaving him gasping.

"Please, Spike, please, god," Xander moaned, helplessly awash in the carnal sensations that Spike's practiced teasing produced.

In one lithe motion, Spike moved down Xander's body, and the boy pressed his hips upward toward the vampire's hungry mouth. "Xander, look at me," Spike commanded gruffly.

Xander looked. The vampire knelt over him, game face on and golden eyes glowing in the twilight. He looked feral, dangerous and utterly frightening.

"Do you want me, Xander? An evil, dead thing? A vampire? Do you?" Spike growled.

"Yes! Yes, please," Xander begged, arching into the vampire with every sense on fire.

Spike snarled and plunged his head down. Xander arched up, already imagining his cock in that hard, cool mouth. But Spike didn't take him. Instead, Spike struck like a cobra, sinking his fangs into Xander's femoral artery and tearing it open. He sucked harshly, bringing blood to his rapacious mouth in long hard pulls.

Xander writhed helplessly below him. The pain was intense, mind-clouding, but the pleasure that accompanied it was just as strong. Xander convulsed his hips thrashing under Spike's cold hands as the vampire sucked him. Xander came, gushing his emission all over his chest.

Spike pulled back, closing the puncture with his tongue. He smirked down at the boy, still limp in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced. "Look at that. I didn't even touch you, you wanker, and you spilled all over yourself. No control at all, Boy. Are you ever going to say anything to Buffy about fucking vampires again, Xander?" Spike snarled.

Xander looked at him stupidly.

"Answer me, Boy! Are you ever giving the Slayer a hard time about her mates again? Are you sticking your nose in where it don't belong ever again? I promise you, Boy, next time, I'll fuck your ass so hard you spit blood."

Xander winced at the imagery. "No, no, I'll never say a thing, god, Spike, I promise!"

"Good. Lesson learned. Now get out. And…be kind to her…or I'll bloody kill you for certain."

Xander gathered up his clothes and limped hurriedly out of the garden, unwilling to spend even a second more in the presence of the vampire who had so utterly humiliated *pleasured* and beaten him. The bruises and cuts that Spike had inflicted were far from the worst thing he'd done. Xander was sure he'd never be able to look the vampire in the eyes again.

Spike smiled to himself and moved quickly back upstairs. Rupes wasn't due for another half hour. Surely the other two were awake by now. Teenaged blood always got him horny.

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