"Ghosts", Chapter 4

<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN">TITLE: Ghosts 4/?

AUTHOR: jodyorjen

RATING: NC-17

SPOILERS: AU Season 7, containing vague rumors and speculation.

DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.

DEDICATION: For Nautibitz. Without “Body Shots”, I never would have gone here.

AUTHOR"S NOTE: Angst alert, seriously. This chapter contains nonconsensual sexual contact. It is essential to the plot of the overall story. If that upsets you, please skip it.

DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it’s headed. All of my stories may be found at http://www.willingslave.com

William stood in the shadows, watching Faith dance. He should have known she was a Slayer from the way that she moved. But it had been so hard to focus on her, focus on anything, with his head in such a muddle and his body in agony.

He was healing. He could feel his skin itching and mending, and his mind was clear as a bell, clear as it had ever been. He took a sip from his beer, his eyes locked on Faith. She was nothing like the others, nothing like Buffy. But it was all so fitting, so right that he could feel it to his bones: one Slayer had been the death of him, and another had brought him back.

By all rights, Faith herself should be dead. He'd heard her heart stop beating, tasted the last of her life. He'd held her, watched her, dead and still, and known he'd taken his third, and last. Nonetheless she was here, alive. This slayer was no trophy. She turned and looked at him, beckoning to him with a crook of a finger and the smile of a succubus.

If he'd drunk from Buffy, taken her blood, would it have been this way for them? he wondered. He moved through the crowd, men glaring and staring at the disfigured man that was heading straight for the hottest girl in the club. He doubted it. Buffy was all bound up with thou shalt nots, locked up tight with wrong and right.

Faith didn't have many rules. This one had looked into the abyss- and liked it. She'd pulled herself out as well, but he could tell she walked the line thinly, a hair away on either side from working for good or doing evil. He knew that walk, had been on it for years, ever since he'd come to Sunnydale.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned back. He held her tight and swirled her around, her dark hair streaming. She laughed as she closed her eyes, trusting him not to let her fall. William felt something pulling at his chest, something odd and painful and exhilarating. Faith reached up and kissed him, her mouth warm and sweet, tasting faintly of her own blood. Slayer blood in his veins, Slayer laughter in his ears, and a living Slayer in his arms. He realized what he was feeling: the sensation of his soul, jubilant. For the first time in over a century, he felt joy.

****

Dawn landed on the floor with thump. She woke up, her body reverberating from the shock of her fall. She stood and saw Buffy sprawling lengthwise across the bed. Rubbing her tailbone, she headed for her own room. She saw the light coming from underneath Willow's door, and walked up to it and knocked. There was no answer, so Dawn pushed the door open. Willow was sitting on her bed, staring into space.

"Willow?" Dawn said. She entered the room and sat next to her. The other girl remained unaware of her presence, all of her energies focused inwards. "Willow?"

Dawn reached out her hand and placed it on Willow's chest. Her eyes opened wide as she felt the vast chasm within the witch, the barren landscape of her inner life. "Dawn," said Willow.

"You're so empty inside," Dawn said. "You're just a shell, a ghost."

"Yes," said Willow, tears leaking from her eyes.

"I'm glad," Dawn said. "You deserve to be." She looked at Willow seriously. "You tried to destroy the world, but you only destroyed yourself."

"Dawnie," Willow whispered.

"Don't you call me that," Dawn said angrily. "I'm not little whiny Dawnie any more. I'm the Key, Willow. If it weren't for you, maybe I wouldn't have tried to find out what that meant. But it was really helpful of you, opening my eyes. You can't ever turn me back into a little ball of energy." Green light swirled in the depths of Dawn's eyes. "I am the energy."

A green glow filled Willow's body, shining through her skin. "I can fill up all that space inside you, give you back what you lost, hit the reset and make it all better," Dawn said, her voice cracking. Willow smiled, her face awash with bliss. Dawn pulled her hand back, and the light faded. "But I won't."

******

The woman strained against the restraints that tied her to the bed, her body arching as she moaned in pleasure. The man on top of her cried out as he came, calling out a name.

The woman stiffened. "Hey, asshole, the least you can do is say my name during sex."

He rolled off of her and pulled open the Velcro cuffs on her wrists. "I rather think that I don't owe you a thing." He bent down and freed her ankles, then walked across the room and pulled on his underwear.

"I didn't come yet," she said.

"I know," he replied.

She pulled a vase of flowers off the bedside table and chucked it at him. "I hate you, Wesley." It hit the wall and fell with a crash.

"The feeling is mutual," he said, fastening his belt.

A cell phone rang and she leaned over to get it. "Lilah Morgan," she said crisply.

Wesley buttoned his shirt and left the room. "You found him?" he heard her say. "He's with Faith?" Wesley stopped in the hallway, his attention captured by the name of his former Slayer. "They're at Chicago Pizza?" She laughed. "No, I don't think vampires eat either. Maybe the soul makes him hungry. Just wait outside. If they go anywhere other than the hotel, you call me. For the moment, consider the situation contained." Wesley left Lilah's apartment and took off running down the hallway.

******

Buffy woke up to the feeling of a warm hand gliding over her stomach. She opened her eyes and saw Xander lying on her bed, watching her. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I had to see you," he said.

She squinted at the clock. "It's three in the morning."

"I can't stop thinking about you," he said. "I need you so much." She saw that he was crying.

"What's wrong?" she asked, hugging him tight. "What happened?"

"Do you think I'm a loser?" he asked.

"You're not a loser," she replied. He shuddered and made a strained noise, and Buffy began to rock him. "Don't let your parents get to you like this. It's not worth it."

"Tell me you love me," he gasped out.

"I do, of course I do," she replied. She kissed his head, and he lifted his face.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," she said.

"I need you," he said. "I need you." He covered her mouth with his and rolled onto her. She felt him shift and move around, and then he was pushing inside her.

"Buffy," he moaned, as he began to move. She wanted to throw him off, get him away from her. Her heart beat fast, her body flooding with adrenaline. She was stunned by what he was doing. She didn't want this, didn't want him. "I love you so much," he whispered.

She closed her eyes, and tried to breathe. This was Xander, funny sweet Xander, who meant so much to her. He would never hurt her, he loved her, and this was the next step, like he'd said, this was okay, this wasn't wrong. She should love him this way. She should want this.

He thrust harder and she winced at the pain. She wasn't ready, wasn't aroused, and it hurt. He kissed her neck, murmuring words of love. He loved her, and he was good, she thought. He was so good, and he loved her. Wanting to hurl him away, wanting to snap his neck, that was wrong.

She stared at the ceiling, trying to make it feel right. She tried to feel love, tried to feel desire, but all she felt was pain.

********

Faith pulled a wedge off a steaming hot pizza and set it onto her plate. She shook red pepper flakes and Parmesan all over it and shoved it in her mouth. "You know," she said. "I think the hat and the coat make you stand out even more."

William looked across the booth at her. His face was partly hidden by the brim of his fedora, the collar of his trench coat pulled up. "I thought you liked it."

"The hat hides your face," she said. "But you look like an escapee from that old movie. You know, that black and white one."

"There are a lot more than one," he said with a smile.

"You know the one I mean," she said. "They play it all the time as a midnight movie. Ilsa, Rick, the other guy."

"Casablanca," he supplied.

"Yeah, that's the one," she said. She took another bite. "I never understood why she didn't just stay with Rick and send her husband off to save the world."

Spike watched her appreciatively, pouring them each a tall mug of beer from a plastic pitcher. He took a sip and grimaced. "This beer tastes like piss."

"Really?" Faith said, her mouth full. She took a sip of beer and shrugged. "Tastes like beer to me."

"American beer is for shit," he proclaimed.

"This is Budweiser," she said. "A fine beer, if you're not a snob."

"I'm not a snob," he replied. "I do, however, have a sense of taste."

"What would you prefer?" she asked. "Heineken?"

He looked appalled. "You're a complete heathen." She burped, and refilled her glass of beer. "Disgusting," he said. "Somebody should teach you some manners."

She smiled at him. "Want to take me over your knee, teach me a lesson?" She reached under the table and put her hand on his crotch.

He stood up from the booth and took her elbow, dragging her into the ladies' room. The second the door closed he was on her. He spun her towards him, his hand sliding to her wrist. "Vixen," he groaned. He backed her up against the wall, his mouth closing on the vein that hammered in her neck. He ripped open her blouse with one hand, the small buttons scattering.

"William," she said heavily, her hands closing around his neck. He pulled open the front clasp of her bra and bent his head to her chest. His mouth closed around her nipple and began to suck. Faith moaned with pleasure as he pulled up her skirt, and slipped his fingers inside her.

"You're so wet," he said, as he caressed her. "So warm."

"Inside me," she said, unbuttoning his pants.

"You want me?" he purred.

"Please now," she said.

"You said please," he murmured. "Got to reward you for being polite." Suddenly, he was pulled away from her.

"Think, man," Wesley yelled. "I know you feel you've got nothing left to lose, but she's not worth it."

Willam's hat tumbled off as he struggled to regain his footing. "Are you bloody daft?"

"You're not Angel," Wes said in confusion.

"Still sharp as a tack," Faith muttered, struggling to fasten her bra.

"Who the hell is this guy?" William asked, shoving Wesley against the wall.

"A total waste of space who used to be my Watcher," Faith supplied.

William laughed and fastened his pants. "That's rich." He turned to Faith and smiled. "Can't imagine anyone trying to reign you in."

"Didn't work out," she said, taking off her leather jacket and removing her ruined blouse. She put the jacket back on and zipped it up, just enough to cover her bra.

"So what exactly do you want?" William asked, bending over and retrieving his fedora.

"Well, I'd like to know what Faith is doing out of prison, for starters," he said.

"I've been paroled," she said, fixing her lipstick in the mirror. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Don't think she likes you," William commented. He grabbed Wes by the lapels.

Wes pulled a stake out of his pocket. "I'm not enjoying either of you at the moment."

Faith turned and chopped him the windpipe with the side of her hand. He went down like a ton of bricks. "I could have handled that," William pointed out.

"Well, you're doing that whole non-violent thing, and I respect that." she said. "Plus, I really do enjoy hurting him." Wesley groaned and tried to sit up.

"Should I be jealous?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yeah, be jealous. I think I'd like that." He kissed her, and she tightened her arms around his neck.

"Let's go back to the hotel," William said. "I'd like to fuck you thoroughly and horizontally, and without an audience." She put her arm around his waist and they left.

Wesley rolled to his knees, coughing and wheezing. He pulled himself up by the sink and looked in the mirror. A livid bruise was forming on his throat, providing a nice contrast with the jagged scar that ran across it.

******

Dawn walked into the hallway and heard the sound of crying. She walked to the bathroom and put her hand on the door. It swung open, revealing Buffy sitting on the toilet, pressing a towel between her legs as she sobbed. Her nightgown was damp with sweat, sticking to her chest and stomach.

"Buffy?" Dawn said.

Her sister looked up, her face swollen from weeping. "Go to bed, Dawn."

"What's wrong?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," her sister said sharply. "Just go back to bed."

"You're bleeding," Dawn said, seeing the red that seeped through the towel.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Buffy said.

Dawn grabbed a handful of tissues and lifted her sister's chin. Carefully, she wiped away the tears. She put the tissue to Buffy's nose. "Blow," she instructed.

Buffy did as she asked. "Thanks," she said softly.

"Someone raped you," Dawn said. "Was it Spike? Is he back?"

Buffy shook her head. "It wasn't rape, Dawn. Just sex. And I really shouldn't be talking about this with you."

Dawn looked at her sister, and saw the despair in her eyes. She pulled the towel from between Buffy's legs and bent down. "You're torn," she said. "And you're all messy."

Buffy shoved her. "Just go away."

"You've been violated," Dawn said. "Why are you acting like everything is okay?"

Buffy shivered, blood trailing down her thigh. "It wasn't his fault. It's mine. I told him I loved him, I kissed him. It's what he expected, and it's what I should have wanted."

"If you didn't want it, that makes it rape," her sister said. "We have to call the police and get you to the hospital." She put her arm around Buffy's waist.

"I can't do that," Buffy said. She started to cry again. "He'll think I don't love him any more. He'll feel bad."

"He should feel bad," Dawn said. "He did something horrible to you."

"I didn't say no," Buffy cried. "I never said no. I just waited for it to be over."

Dawn sighed. "I'll get you some clean panties and a nightgown, okay?"

"No, Dawnie, no," Buffy said. "Don't go in there."

Dawn looked at her, shocked. "He's still in there." She pulled open the door and rushed to the bed. She saw Xander lying there, peacefully sleeping. He looked just like always, her friend, her pal. "No," she whispered, starting to cry. "No!"

*****

Lilah sat in a hot bath, her head resting on a pillow. Soothing classical music filled the room, and the scent of perfumed candles permeated the air. Her body ached from the rough sex with Wes, and the water felt great on her muscles. Her doorbell chimed and she ignored it, sipping again from her white wine.

Her cell phone rang. With a sigh, she leaned over and picked it up. "Lilah Morgan," she answered.

"It's me," said Wes. "Come open the door."

"I don't think so," she said. "You acted like a total jerk tonight." She laughed. "Not that that's unusual, but at least I get a few good orgasms out of it usually."

"I want to make it all up to you," he said. "Just let me in."

Lilah hung up the phone and sat for a moment, considering. With a sigh, she let the water out of the tub and stood up. She put on a robe and walked out to the front door. Wesley stood there with a huge bouquet of roses. "What happened to you?" she asked, touching his neck.

"Jumped a florist," he quipped. "Got some lovely flowers out of it though."

She smiled and took the bouquet. "Okay, charm and bribery are a good start."

He stepped inside and picked her up. He carried her to the bedroom and set her down on the bed. Gently, he lifted the vase of flowers from her hands and set them on the bedside table. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Lilah," he said sincerely.

"You didn't," she said. "Nothing you say or do matters to me."

"We both know that's not true," he said. He took off his glasses and set them on the table, then unbuttoned his shirt. She stared up at him as he lowered himself over her. "I'm going to make it up to you." He undid the belt of her robe and opened it, then slid down her body, nestling his face between her thighs.

"Oh, Wesley," she sighed, as her hands tightened in his hair.

****

Faith stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the bedroom. She grabbed a tube of lip balm from the top of the dresser, applying it carefully to her lips. She picked up a bottle of perfume and unstopped it, tracing a thin trail of scent along her skin.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" William asked. She spun around to find him resting in the bed, his blue eyes fixed on her naked form. "I can't believe you let me touch you, deformed circus freak that I am."

She smiled at him and crept forward on the bed. His hands rested on her waist as she straddled his lap, the thin sheet the only thing separating their bodies. "I'm more of a freak than you," she said with a smile, her hands reaching out to caress the scars that covered his chest. "I'm just messed up on the inside, where you can't see it."

"Time and care, we'll both heal," he said. "It's started already." She leaned down and kissed him, and he cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs skimming her nipples. She pulled the sheet away and moved to slide down on him. He broke the kiss. "Not yet."

"I want you now," she said. "I don't like waiting."

"Waiting makes it even better," he said. "Trust me." She pulled away, a startled expression on her face. "It's okay," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. He could feel her withdrawing from him, putting up her shields. "Don't," he said firmly. "Don't get scared. This is wonderful. We can trust it."

"I don't trust people," Faith said, her face hard. "I can't do it."

"You can trust me," he said. She laughed, but it was a bitter, harsh sound. She rolled over, away from him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his embrace. "Ask me anything, and I'll tell you," he said. "Make me promise anything, I'll swear to it."

"I don't want to talk, I want to fuck," she said petulantly.

He laughed and kissed her throat. She shivered and hummed with pleasure. "Sooner you let me in, sooner you'll get me inside you." She turned her head and their lips met, deep luscious kisses that left them both wanting.

She broke the kiss and looked in her eyes. "Tell me why you kept trying to kill yourself," she asked.

"That's a very long story," he said. She turned her head away. "I had a chip in my head, couldn't kill, couldn't hurt-"

"Chip?" she said. She put her hands on his face and looked into his eyes. "Christ almighty."

"Hardly."

"William the Bloody, with a chip in his head," she said. "I remember you. I know all about you."

"Really?" he said, his eyes sparkling.

"Spike," she said. She ran her hands over his cheeks. "Oh, Spike. You were so beautiful."

He furrowed his brow. "We've met?"

"Very long story," she said.

"I'm not going to let that one go," he said.

"Magickal device, switched bodies with Buffy, hit on you in the Bronze," she said simply.

His eyes widened. "No!"

"Yeah!" she said. "Damn."

"Right, I remember you were in town," he said. "Didn't know about the switchereroo thing, though. I thought that was Buffy."

"You got your chip out," she said. "I mean, obviously. You can certainly bite." She smiled and traced the marks on her neck.

"Went to get it out, and they gave me a soul," he said. "That's why I wanted to kill myself. There's nothing holding me back from being William the Bloody and tearing my way through the city. Done it before, I could do it again. That's the curse of this thing, Faith: being given the world on a string, but knowing I can never take it."

"Why won't you feed anymore?" she asked.

"Because it's wrong," he said simply. "I don't see a meal anymore when I look at a man; I see someone's father, brother, lover. I see all the ties that bind him to this world, the faces of the ones he loves." He swallowed. "All the lives I've taken, it's like a gigantic web of pain that's wrapped tight around me, binding me so I can never be free."

"It sucks to feel, doesn't it?" she said. "It's so much better being numb, not letting anything really touch you."

"No," he said. "Because you don't feel the happiness, either. There's nothing there." He took her hand. "From the moment that I received my soul, I've been driven out of my mind by guilt and remorse. From the second I touched you, I knew why I was here. For you."

"Don't say crap like that," she said. "You don't know me. You don't know the things I've done."

"You know everything I've done," he said intently. "William the Bloody, the scourge of Europe. Why haven't you run away yet, knowing what I am, what I could do?"

"Because you could have killed me, and you didn't," she said. "If you just wanted to bag a slayer, you've done it already. You sucked and fucked me; you could have killed me dozens of times tonight."

"But I didn't," he said. "I never will."

"I know. You don't have to tell me." She looked away. "I do trust you," she admitted. "It's just a feeling. It doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything," he said, his eyes shining. "Trust your intuition." He rolled her on her back and slid inside her.

"I don't like this," she said, her eyes wide and scared.

"You'll like it with me," he promised.

"I don't want to be on the bottom," she said. "I don't want to be beneath you."

He stilled. "You're not beneath me, love."

"So there's some other big heavy vamp on me right now?" she said sharply.

He kissed her and began to move within her. Her hands clenched his shoulders, and she closed her eyes. "You feel so good," he told her. "Faith, look at me." She opened her eyes. "Feel what's between us," he said intently. He put her hand on his chest. "Do you feel it?"

"You're a Looney Tune," she said. "This is fucking. It's just bodies."

"Not this time," he said. "Feel it."

They stared into each other's eyes as they moved in rhythm. A thin sheen of sweat filmed on Faith's skin, her face suffusing with color. "That's it," he encouraged her. "My lovely, my beauty. Tell me."

"No," she whispered.

He increased the pace, the bed shaking as he thrust in and out of her body. "I know you can feel it," he said. "Say it."

"I don't know what you mean," she cried out, her voice shaking. "There's nothing. There's nothing between us."

He snarled and morphed into his demon, biting her on her breast. She cried out, her nails cutting into his shoulder as she writhed underneath him. He pulled away, watching her, his eyes glowing amber. "Tell me!"

She stared up at him. "You are my destiny," she whispered.

He laughed exultantly. "Yes!" he crowed. "My Slayer!"

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he fiercely pumped within her. "William," she panted. "William."

"My sweet Faith," he gasped, as they both surrendered to a shattering climax.

*****

Buffy stumbled into her bedroom. "No, Dawnie!" she cried out. "Dawnie!"

Xander's eyes were open and he looked up at Dawn in shock. Her hands were in the middle of his chest. "Suffer!" she cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Hurt!" Green energy ran down her arms in roiling waves, and his body began to spasm and twitch.

"Stop it!" Buffy shrieked. She went to her sister and pulled her arm. Dawn's hand jerked back and hit Buffy in the chest. The Slayer made a choking noise as she hit the floor.

"Buffy!" Dawn kneeled on the floor over her motionless sister. "I didn't mean it, Buffy. I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Giles appeared in the doorway. "Dawn, what's going on?" he asked, visibly distraught. "What has happened?"

The girl looked up at him, her glowing hands shaking. "I think I killed them," she whispered.

-TBC-

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