Ties That Bind

DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX , Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. Theirs not mine. The stupid girl has no idea what she has done. As I stare down into her eyes, there is no flicker of understanding within them. Love, fear, desire; I recognize them all. But there is no knowledge, no acceptance. “What do you mean, eternity?” Buffy asks me. As I open my mouth to answer, the chip fires in my head. Sparks flare and scorch within my brain. The agony overwhelms me. Suddenly I am elsewhere. A familiar body lies in my embrace. I know the muscles under my hands, the dark hair brushing my cheek. His scent has been in my head for over a century. The taste of him fills my mouth. It is Angelus. Angel. Pulling away from him, I look around. We are in bed, in my crypt. Fang marks in his neck are purple and vicious. Buffy is lying beside me, sleeping. Tara is on the floor, grasping for breath. A dark bruise is forming on the witch’s cheek. “Tara, what is going on?” She looks dazed, her hand touching her cheek. “You hit me. I was trying to get you to let go of Angel. He had begun to struggle, and I thought you were hurting him.” Guilt washes over me. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wasn’t in my right mind.” She sits on the edge of the bed, smiling at me. “I forgive you. At least you didn’t punch me in the nose this time.” Between us, Angel stirs. He looks up at me, wincing with pain. “You always were a greedy little bloodsucker, William. You could have shown a little restraint.” “Don’t see any reason to start changing now, mate,” I say. He gives me a searching look. “I can think of a few.” Tara puts her hand up. “Don’t start with all the male ego posturing now, guys. Buffy really wouldn’t like it.” We all turn in unison to look at her. Buffy is deeply asleep. Dark circles under her eyes and the tense set of her jaw show the depth of her exhaustion. “Buffy needs her rest. She’s been running herself ragged trying to heal you, Spike. Not to mention the spells that we did tonight and the work on the astral plain,” says Tara. She stands, reaching out to Angel. “Speaking of which, we should be getting our rest too. Cordelia must be waiting up for you. You shouldn’t worry her.” Angel rises to his feet. “I want to make sure that Buffy will be okay.” “It’s my job to take care of her, not yours.” Bloody poof always does horn in where he’s not wanted. He stares at me. “You’re right. I have responsibilities of my own now.” Tara kisses my cheek. “I’m so very glad that you’re all right. As soon as you can, you have to see Dawn. She has been worried sick about you.” She climbs the steps to the upper level. Angel turns to follows her. I call after him. “Angel. I’m- grateful. Sharing your blood. You doing that for me.” He doesn’t turn back. “I didn’t do it do it for you.” I hear the door to the upper crypt slam shut as they depart. I get out of the bed, pulling back the covers. Taking off Buffy’s clothes, I tuck her in. Delighting in the sight of her in my bed, I play with her hair, stretching out tendrils all over the pillow. Her mouth opens, her tongue flickering over her lips. I bend down and kiss her. God, I want her. I want to lick every inch of her. I want to fuck her until she screams. Sighing, I climb back underneath the sheets. Turning out the light, I roll away from her so that we do not touch. Slayer needs her rest. I wake up to the sound of screaming. “Dru, love. It’s alright,” I say groggily. Reaching out my arm, I touch warm flesh. I remember, and fully awaken. Snapping on the light, I embrace Buffy. She is still screaming. I shake her gently. Her eyes pop open, wide and searching. Seeing me there, she falls forward, wrapping herself around me. “You were gone. You were dead,” she says, holding me tightly. “I’m right here, love,” I say, “I’ve got you.” Her mouth covers mine. Her hard nipples brush against my chest. I run my hands through her hair, cupping the back of her head. Her nails scrape down my back, stinging trails rising in their wake. My hands trail down her back to her ass. I grab her roughly, lifting her. She sinks down on top of me, throwing back her head. We move together, falling into a trance of shared sensation. “You’re mine,” she says, and I know she is about to come for me. I increase the pace, burning with need for her. She begins to chant, “You’re mine, I need you, you’re mine,” as she moves around me. I work within in her, pounding at her with all the passion I feel for her.