Part XI

 

 

 

Author’s note: The plot in this chapter is based around the episode ‘Doomed’, with some of the dialogue taken from that.

 

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“So he’s really gone?” asked Buffy at the Scooby meeting the next day.

 

“All moved out, many of my possessions with him. Makes a man feel a little used, you know.” Xander looked less than happy.

 

United in confusion, the group turned to stare at him.

 

“Well he spends, like, forever hanging out in our houses, eating our food, stealing our stuff, never a word of thanks and then one day he just ups and leaves.” He noticed their uncomprehending gazes. “So why couldn’t he have done that weeks ago?” he demanded.

 

“He’s Spike, evil freeloader,” suggested Willow.

 

“Took what he could get and then left,” concluded Anya. “That’s what men do.”

 

“He didn’t do it in a man way,” said Xander. “And don’t compare men and Spike. And on behalf of my sex - hey!”

 

“Can we talk about the end of the world?” asked Buffy, looking uncomfortable. “Because that’s kind of important too.”

 

“Thank you, Buffy,” said Giles, taking charge. “What we know indicates that Buffy’s fears are correct. Yesterday’s earthquake was indeed portentous of – well, the end of the world.”

 

“Why can’t natural disasters ever be portentous of puppies and rainbows?” grumbled Willow. “No, always has to be an apocalypse!”

 

“Shifting landmasses and what not,” muttered Buffy derisively. “What does he even know about anything?”

 

“Sorry?” said Giles, concerned.

 

“Nothing. How do I stop this thing?”

 

“Well, now, that’s the question,” said Giles.

 

“The answer being?” Buffy prompted. She noted his avoidance of her eye. “Oh, why would we know a thing like that?”

 

“They will want to open the Hellmouth,” Giles said quietly.

 

“I hate the Hellmouth,” commented Willow viciously.

 

Buffy raised a smile. “With you there. Giles, what’s their plan?”

 

“Well, for a start, we don’t know who they are. But someone drained the blood of a student last night. The body was mutilated, according to reports. A sign carved into the chest.”

 

Buffy looked at him questioningly.

 

“It’s part of a spell, of that I’m sure. Magicks powerful enough to effect nature in that way….” He trailed off. “I just can’t find what bloody spell.”

 

“So we don’t know who we’re fighting and we don’t know what they’re going to do and we don’t know how they’re going to do it,” concluded Buffy, tapping the table impatiently. “Great.”

 

They all sat back in silence, doom and gloom hitting them.

 

“It’s so quiet around here,” noticed Xander after a while.

 

“Peaceful, isn’t it?” agreed Giles. “The calm before the storm. Or in our case, as usual, the end of the world.”

 

“No, it’s like there’s something missing,” said Xander, with a thoughtful sigh.

 

“Spike,” supplied Anya, matter-of-factly.

 

“No! We can’t miss Spike. Except in the sense of missing him like a hole in the head.”

 

“Or like syphilis,” suggested Willow, to a glare from Xander.

 

“Maybe it’s the constant insults and noise that we miss.”

 

“The breaking things just for the fun of it.”

 

“Stealing my brandy when he thought I wasn’t looking.”

 

“Getting us all drunk,” suggested Anya.

 

“We don’t miss Spike,” said Buffy, with resolution.

 

“But I guess maybe we might miss the background noise,” concluded Xander. “I should get a sound system.”

 

“And in the meantime we could concentrate on saving the world?” suggested Giles. “And one idea does suddenly spring to mind.”

 

Buffy groaned heartrendingly. “Giles, no! You can’t make me do this. I am not crawling to him on my hands and knees!”

 

“Couldn’t you just walk?” asked Xander, puzzled.

 

“That was more what I had in mind,” agreed Giles.

 

“Can’t we handle this on our own?” she begged. “I’m the Slayer. Why do I have to ask him to help?”

 

“I think when the safety of the world is at stake then better safe than sorry,” Giles urged peaceably. “And what’s the worst that could happen by asking Spike for assistance?”

 

“You so don’t want to know,” muttered Buffy, pushing back her chair reluctantly and getting to her feet with a sigh.

 

 

*****

 

 

Locating the crypt, she hesitated at the door for a moment. Can’t believe I have to do this. She kicked the door down and marched in determinedly.

 

“Well, well, well. Look who’s come crawling back. Didn’t I say something about hands and knees, Summers?”

 

“Do you have to annoy the messenger? I’m only here cos Giles made me come. End of the world. He wants you to help.”

 

“You need my help?” He grinned.

 

“He wants you to help,” she repeated, clearly and distinctly.

 

“I think I’ve had my final word on this subject. You want my help then you can beg.” He looked pleased with himself.

 

Buffy looked less happy.

 

“End of the world?” she reminded him. “Don’t really have time for your kinky little power games?”

 

“You have the planet to save,” he said understandingly. “Run along.”

 

Would Giles really hold it against me if I staked Spike right now? wondered Buffy, clenching her fists in irritation.

 

She considered her options. Number one, the one she liked a lot, was to hit him over the head really hard, drag his unconscious body back to Giles’ house and let the gang deal with him. That would be keeping to the letter of Giles’ request wouldn’t it? Not exactly the spirit though, she thought grudgingly. Hours of arguing with a pissed-off vampire would not be helpful to the saving of the world.

 

That left option number two. Persuade Spike to help. She looked at those sarcastic, cynical blue eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him. He frowned.

 

Very slowly she dropped to her knees, at his feet, maintaining eye contact. Yep, he looked strangely less sure of himself now, she thought with satisfaction.

 

“I said hands and knees, Summers,” he croaked.

 

“There are better things I could do with my hands,” she offered, an innocent smile on her face as she snapped his belt buckle open and let her hand hover over his zip.

 

“Uggg,” was his response to the situation, which Buffy took to imply encouragement. Sliding one hand under his shirt and over his stomach, the other opened his jeans, releasing his eager cock from its denim prison. It bobbed forward, almost reaching her mouth. Feeling her warm breath, Spike moaned and tried to move to meet her, stopped by her hand.

 

“You want something?” she asked nicely, looking up innocently as she ran her tongue slowly along the length of his shaft. “You think you might want to save the world afterwards?”

 

Another incoherent groan.

 

Another flick of her tongue and his eyes closed in helpless lust, the growl stifled in his throat. She smiled to herself, taking the base of his cock in one hand and lowering her lips around it. She revelled in the sense of power as the Big Bad was reduced to moaning her name, desperate to buck against her, held back by one hand and the threat in her eyes.

 

A low hiss escaped him as she fondled his balls, applying enough pressure to make him nervous. His hands, reached for her hair, tangling the blond mess around his fingers. She became suddenly aware of her own arousal, jolts of distracting electricity hitting her stomach, travelling south. Making a futile effort to shake off the distraction, she felt the sudden but slight contraction of his balls. And pulled away, laughing.

 

His eyes opened, horror on his face as he realised she had stopped. “Slayer!” he gasped, observing her smirk. The bitch.

 

“You gonna help?” she purred, sliding a hand up and down his thigh. “Might be worth your while?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll help,” he growled in response, dropping to his knees and pushing her to the ground, managing to tear three buttons off her top at the same time. She made a move to rescue the final two before capitulating, realising that in the greater cause of world-save-age, this was a worth losing one more outfit for. His T shirt had vanished, leaving him to slide naked up the length of her body. They kissed feverishly, hands tangling in the shredded remains of clothes.

 

 “Come on,” she groaned, reversing their positions and taking control. He grunted his approval for this plan as she impaled herself upon him and began to move with a new confidence. Not the hesitant girl he had shagged only a few night before. She ground herself into his hard abdomen, groaning as she found the friction she craved. Freshly aroused by her show, he grabbed her by the hips, increasing the frantic pace, bouncing her off his cock now. One hand moved over her stomach, caressing her breasts and sending further shots of desire through her body.

 

They rode each other hard and fast, their moans reaching a crescendo as Buffy tumbled over the edge of her desire, followed fast by Spike.

 

They lay on the cold floor, breathless.

 

Gradually, her brain began to function again. Right. End of the world. Rolling onto her side, she poked him in the ribs. “You ready for a fight now?” she asked. He looked confused.

 

“You want a fight, Slayer?” he asked lazily, running his fingers over her arm.

 

“End of the world? Supposed to be recruiting you?” she reminded him. Reminding herself.

 

“That what this was in aid of?” He made a valiant effort to look offended but couldn’t stop the satisfied grin.

 

“Did it work?”

 

“Count me in. Just cos the adrenaline’s running now, mind. Doesn’t mean I’m working with you lot again. This is just a once off,” he said decisively.

 

“Definitely just a once off,” agreed Buffy fervently. For the what? Third time? She got up, pulling him with her. “Come on. Before you fall asleep. Not going to be much use if you’re snoring.”

 

“I resent that, Slayer. Vamp here? Stamina of about ten of your normal little mortal tossers. I can keep going all night - you might remember?”

 

“Then saving the world should be no bother at all,” she countered dismissively, ignoring the shiver than ran through her stomach.

 

 

*****

 

 

“So how can I help?” asked Spike. Buffy looked at him suspiciously. She’d never heard him so polite and pleasant before.

 

Giles seemed impressed. “We don’t know for sure,” he admitted. “Have you seen anything strange? Any unusual demon activity?”

 

Vampire shags slayer. The sequel, thought Buffy.

 

Seating himself, Spike thought for a moment. “There are Vahralls about at the moment, which is unusual enough. They endin’ the world these days?” He sounded impressed.

 “Vahrall demons,” repeated Giles, interested. He fetched a book. “Here we are,” he offered, pointing to a page.

 “Eew!” said Willow, looking over his shoulder at the book.

 “I second that revulsion,” offered Xander.

 “Yes. ‘Slick like gold and gird in moonlight, father of portents and brother to blight. Limbs with talons, eyes like knives, bane to the blameless, thief of lives’,” Giles read aloud.

 

“Fun sort of guy,” commented Buffy. “But how do we know if they’re our guys?”

 

“Hang on!” said Spike slowly, beginning to pace the floor. “They were doing something strange. I heard about this. Bones. Bones? Something about bones.” He furrowed his brow.

 

Cute, thought Buffy, then quickly smothered such thoughts.

 

“Bones of a child,” said Spike. “They were digging up graves – making an almighty mess of the cemetery,” he added indignantly. “Word was they were after the bones of a child for something. That fit any of your theories?”

 

“Bones of a child,” repeated Giles. “It does sound familiar.”

 

Spike and Giles having a conversation. Buffy felt that she should be recording this. It was one for the record books. Evil vampire and Watcher sit together to calmly discuss averting the end of the world. Spike was good at this stuff. He knew things and Giles listened to him. Which was in itself quite amazing because Giles never listened to anyone.

 

Buffy sat back, phasing out slightly. The sound of Spike’s voice washed over her. Low and deep. Sexy voice. It did things to the pit of her stomach.

 

She looked up quickly, guiltily. Spike gave her a quirky look and continued.

 

“Yeah, that sounds right,” He pointed to a page in Giles’ book. “It uses the blood of a man, the bones of a child and – the word of Valios?” 

 

She closed her eyes for longer than strictly necessary, luxuriating in the tingling sensation that voice could cause.

 

“Buffy?” called Giles.

 

“Something been tirin’ you out, pet?” enquired Spike with a show of concern. “Some vamp been givin’ you a run for your money?”

 

“In no way,” she replied firmly, giving him a look that bespoke trouble later. “You just seem to have joined the side of talk instead of action, that’s all.”

 

“As I was saying while you were snoring,” he continued, refusing to rise to the bait, “We have to assume they already have the Word of Valios and that they’re ready to go. If they carry out the Sacrifice of Three, the Hellmouth opens.”

 

“The sacrifice of three... – Three people are going to die?” asked Xander.

 

Spike got to his feet.

 “Nobody is going to die. We’re going to stop this!” They looked at him, surprised. “And we should probably go before I remember that I’m supposed to be evil.”

 

 

*****

 

 

“That was more of a mini-apocalypse really,” declared Xander as they left the school.

 

“Hardly makes the top ten,” agreed Willow, still out of breath.

 

“Well, that’s what happens when you work with the best,” said Spike with a swagger.

 

“That’s nice. Glad to see you’re finally willing to admit that Buffy’s the best,” said Xander, wilfully misunderstanding.

 

Spike’s instinctive glare softened slightly. “She’s pretty good,” he admitted.

 

“Of course a three-legged field mouse could beat you up these days, but that’s not really the point.”

 

Spike scowl returned and threatened to become game face as Buffy reached them.

 

“All done!” she smiled. “Well done us!”

 

“We kicked apocalyptic ass!” crowed Willow, swinging a sword rather wildly in jubilation.

 

Spike retreated to a safer distance.

 

“Watch it with that thing, Red. Some of us hero types don’t suit having our heads cut off.”

 

“I think it would suit you,” retorted Xander. “No head would really go with your coat.”

 

“But then,” said Spike sanctimoniously, “I couldn’t help save the world. You know, patrol and kill bad guys and save Buffy from killer earthquakes.”

 

Buffy blushed.

 

“So can we take it that you have come around to the idea of helping in the fight against evil?” enquired Giles, surprised.

 

“In a manner of speaking,” he replied. “There do seem to be some advantages to having this sodding chip in my skull,” He flickered a glance in Buffy’s direction. She appeared suddenly fascinated by the crossbow she was holding.

 

“And so I should take full advantage of…those things.”

 

Giles was now looking at him strangely.

 

“Still got a lot of things I can ….do. I figure I should thoroughly investigate every possibility open to me,” he continued. With the air of a philosopher. “No passage should remain unexplored. No matter how narrow that passage may be.”

 

Buffy’s stony glare stopped him in full flight, to the group’s obvious relief.

 

“Maybe *this* is the apocalypse,” suggested Xander. “Spike is going to talk us to death.”

 

“To the Bronze while we still can,” declared Willow, “And don’t spare the horses!”

 

Falling behind the group, Spike lingered and caught Buffy’s arm. She pulled away.

 

“No exploring. And no passages,” she said firmly, and walked onwards, leaving him to wonder had he really seen a suspicious glint in her eyes.

 

 

*****

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

She woke with a start. What the hell?

 

Spike. Sitting on her bed, looking at her. That wasn’t right. She blinked and shook her head.

 

“Buffy!” he declared dramatically, eyes wide. “You have to come, it’s the end of the world!”

 

“Didn’t we do that earlier?” she whined sleepily, dragging her thoughts together.

 

“Okay,” he admitted. “I just thought I’d barge into your home for a change with some cock and bull story.”

 

“Hey!” Her indignant denial was stopped by the sight of him crawling further up the bed. “W-why are you here?” she asked, attempting to keep her voice steady.

 

“Closure?” he offered, then seeing her disparaging look, offered, “Okay, a really good shag.”

 

“You do know that I hate you?” she said levelly, meeting his flashing eyes.

 

“Hate you too,” he said cheerfully. “Now are you going to get those clothes off or do I have to make you?”

 

She shivered.

 

“We’re not…” She made an effort at protest that was belied by her traitorous hand pulling his head closer.

 

“We’re not anything,” he agreed. “But you and me, we saved the world today and no one’s going to begrudge us this.” Seeing her look of argument, he added, “Especially if they don’t know.”

 

He slipped silken straps from her shoulders and followed up his logic with a searing kiss.

 

“Tomorrow?” she managed, finding that her hands were working to separate him from his coat.

 

“Another day, another apocalypse,” he shrugged.

 

This was an argument she understood. As was the movement of his hands over her body and what his mouth was doing to her neck…. Argument seemed pointless. Bye-bye rational thought.

 

She dived for his belt.

 

She’d think about it tomorrow.

 

 

 

** The End**

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