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Chapter 1

“Where to, pet?”

“It’s time to do a little reconnaissance. Where’s the Watcher’s Council headquarters?”

Beside her, Spike grinned. All seasoned vampires knew the location to the building, but never had one dared to set foot near the place. The rebel in him rose to the challenge. Besides, he liked to live dangerously; it gave his demon such a rush.  

With a grin at his unlikely cohort, he raced off into the night, Buffy right by his side.

~*~*~*~*~

“They seem rather arrogant, doncha’ think?” she whispered to Spike as she scanned the building looking for guards.

“’s that stiff British upper lip. Think they’re impenetrable to siege.”

“It can’t be that simple. Surely they must have some means of keeping you guys out.” She looked over the simple layout. Tucked away in the countryside, surrounded by a gate that looked intimidating to the common person, yet looked easily passable by someone of her and Spike’s abilities, the Council headquarters sat surrounded by trees and shrubberies. Nice of them to provide a decent cover once they slipped over the fence. Buffy gave Spike a sidelong look and noticed his arched brow.

“What? I’m just saying. There’s no crosses, no garlic hanging from string – which reminds me – does garlic even work?”

Beside her, Spike just rolled his eyes.

“And, there’s no dogs – nothing. It’s like they think they’re God or something.”

“Bloody wankers,” Spike mumbled under his breath.

“Tell me, not once in all the time you’ve been a vampire you never tried to get inside the Council’s headquarters?”

“Didn’t wanna waste my time, pet. Much rather seek out the Slayer than the people that thought they ran the show. Knew where the real power lay,” he told her honestly.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so. But still, no one else? No other vampire, or demon, for that matter?”

“Dunno, Slayer. Can’t speak for others. But, you’re right. It does seem kinda easy. And that fence is pretty laughable. Come on, let’s take us a gander around back, see if there’s any guards lurking about.”

The two slipped from their hiding space and skirted the fence that surrounded the building.

“Do you see anything?” she whispered some time later.

Spike shook his head.

“Smell anything?”

She watched as his human guise slipped away revealing the amber eyes, ridged brow, and fangs that were his demon trademark. Again he shook his head in the negative.

“Then, it’s gotta be the building. Something there has got to prevent demons from getting inside.”  

“Dunno, Slayer.”

“Well, we’ll just case the place then make our move tomorrow. Besides, we need to grab our bags from their hiding spot and find us a place to crash for the night,” she told him, patting the money belt strapped around her waist.

Side-by-side, the two watched the infrequent comings and goings of the men and women as they went about their duties. Around 1:00 a.m., they noticed that there was a lull in activity and Buffy decided that would be the best time to slip inside.

“Think we can find what we’re looking for in four hours?” Any longer than that then they had to worry about getting Spike safely out of the building.

“Knowing them, they’ll have a stash of books in a library.”

“And, if they’re anything like Giles, they’ll have it catalogued and cross-catalogued,” she snickered, a brief glimpse of the carefree Slayer she used to be managing to break through.

Spike looked over at her and smiled.

“Right then, let’s go find us a room. We’ll come back tomorrow and nick us some research materials.”

The two black-clad figures slipped away into the night.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike directed the Slayer to a cheesy motel in the Soho district. With their leather and badass attitudes, the two easily blended in to the carefree atmosphere that had come to life as soon as the sun had gone down. Walking beside the Slayer, Spike breathed deeply of the sex and blood permeating the air and licked his lips in anticipation. After he made sure she was safely ensconced in their room, he’d slip off to grab a bite to eat – take in a little night life to secure them some weapons and maybe some more information on the Order.

Buffy hurried up to the window and quickly paid for their room, grabbing a few bills from her front pocket. She could sense that Spike was eager to be off, so she forged their info as fast as possible and snagged the key the proprietor dangled in front of her. She snatched it out of his hand, rolling her eyes at the leer he gave her, and made her way back to Spike.

“Let’s get you all settled for the night, Slayer,” he told her, taking the key from her hand as well as the bag she was carrying. The Slayer looked ready to drop, the two not having stopped since they left the airport earlier in the evening.

Buffy gratefully conceded the bags and the key and labored up the steps to their room on the third floor. Around her the smell of sex and drugs hung heavily in the air – she ignored it, just like she ignored the occasional screams of passion that could be heard from behind closed doors. Buffy wanted nothing more than to take a shower and crawl into bed.

Spike paused in front of their door, his face shifting to bring forth his demon as he inserted the key.

“Wait here,” he told her, then slipped inside. A few minutes later, he was back announcing, “All clear,” his human mask once more in place.

Buffy nodded wearily and slipped inside. She was grateful he had the foresight to check – she was so damn tired, the Order could have been knee deep inside the room and she would never have known.

Spike dropped their bags on the floor and walked over to the Slayer. Dark circles rimmed her kohl-lined eyes making them appear even more sunken in her pale face. She looked ready to drop on her feet, physically and emotionally, and he was tempted to forgo feeding for the night to keep an eye on her. He moved to pull off his duster to do just that, but her words forestalled him.

“No, Spike. You need to go. I’ll be alright. Just gonna shower and go to bed.”

“You sure, pet? I could stay. Just till you fell asleep.”

“No. The quicker you go, the better chance you have of getting some more information for us. It’s okay. I’ll be alright.”

“Alright, pet. I won’t be far.”

She nodded at him and moved off towards the bathroom.

Spike silently let himself out of the room and set about securing himself some dinner.

~*~*~*~*~

He’d gotten no further than the alley before he found his first meal. Images of the three men beating on his Slayer played before his mind as he listened to the sounds of a man being beaten and robbed. Allowing his demon to slide forth, he slipped into the darkened alley and made quick work of the defenseless man’s attacker.

Licking his lips clean, Spike left the crying man where he lay huddled against the wall and moved out of the alley. He walked in the direction of the nearest bar and hoped he’d find someone inside that could provide him with weapons and information.

He easily fit into the crowd of the club, leather being the prerequisite for attire. Wary of the crowds and their ease in concealing potential Order assassins, he made quick work of getting the things he needed. So, it wasn’t but a couple of hours later that he was returning to the room he shared with the Slayer.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike placed the weapons he had managed to acquire that night on the table next to the bed. He glanced at the bed and noticed the huddled figure of the Slayer beneath the covers on one side. Since he’d been back, he’d noticed her slipping deeper into sleep, finally able to relax her guard now that he was nearby.  

He quickly stripped, tossing his jeans and t-shirt onto a chair and slid into bed beside her – not surprised when his bare body encountered her own naked frame. There was no point in them wearing clothes, they’d just end up stripping them off the other sometime during the early morning as they took what comfort they could in physical contact.  

He had no illusions that she cared for him, right now she needed him, and he made her forget for just a little while. But, there where times when he thought that she saw him – him, not just a replacement lover, someone that gave her comfort and made her feel. It was those moments he’d come to crave.

If he really thought about it, he couldn’t say why. She was the enemy; they’d only formed a truce as their need for survival overcame their hatred for the other. Maybe it had started in the sewers of Sunnydale, as they’d looked out for each other in their joint need to stay one step ahead of the Order.  

Things had just seemed to progress from there.

Not wanting to dwell on his wayward thoughts, he pulled the Slayer close and attempted to sleep. She rolled over, facing him, head coming to rest on his arm as she wrapped her own around his back. Sighing contentedly, she drifted back into a deep sleep.

It wasn't long before Spike, too, fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy tried to twist her body, increase the contact of her skin against his. She need more, now. And harder. It had to be harder. But he ignored her, and her need. She whimpered, ready to beg. Her body was held, suspended over the precipice, ready to fly. But he wouldn’t let her. His slow movements were bringing her no release, just building her higher and higher.

She wanted to fall, to seek the final destination she could only find with him. She struggled to reach for it, pulling him closer to her, tighter. A groan escaped from her parted lips as she felt him finally lie flush against her fevered body.

“Spike…” Her eyes fluttered open as dreams were pushed away and reality intruded.

Spike shifted the Slayer to her back and thrust deep when he noticed she was there with him; her back arched, her head thrust back into the pillow when he finally gave her what she wanted, what she needed.

“More,” she panted. Spike complied, increasing his thrusts and grinding his pelvic bone against her swollen clit. She keened her delight, gripping him tightly to her. In answer, he thrust harder, deeper.

Buffy's hands slipped to his ass – urging him even faster, her fingernails digging into the smooth, pale flesh and leaving crescent marks on the surface. Spike groaned, licking his lips as he felt his canines extend, watched with amber colored eyes the rapid beating of her jugular as it pulsed with her excitement.  

His eyes closed when he felt her inner walls clamp down on his cock, her orgasm suddenly rushing through her body. His head lowered to her neck and he struck, sinking his fangs deep, drawing her Slayer-enriched blood into his mouth. He moaned as he tasted and swallowed greedily the sweet elixir only she could provide. Beneath him, he felt her arch into him as the pleasure-pain became too much.

She clutched him tightly – blunt nails digging so deep that she broke the skin on his back – as her second orgasm caused her body to tremble, and Spike could no longer hold back his own. As her pussy massaged his length, he filled her with his release, a hoarse, “Slayer” bursting from his lips. Thoroughly spent, he collapsed on top of her, mindful of her neck as he carefully removed his fangs and licked the marks closed.

He felt her sigh; her arms moved from his ass, up along his back, holding him close as he nuzzled her neck. She didn’t seem to mind his weight, and Spike lay on top of her while he laved his marks with his tongue until he felt her breathing even out once more, indicating her slumber. Finally, he rolled off her and pulled her close, as he too, drifted back to sleep. 

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