Standing in the shadows of the hall, I surveyed my prey with open interest. It had been a long time since I had seen my sire last. Months...years...decades....centuries. They all tend to blend together when you are as old as I.

He remained unchanged and yet was very different, at the same time. His hair was different. In all the years I had known him -- as a human and as his childe -- it had remained the same; bleached and short. Now it was brown and shaggy. Gone were his faded jeans, black t-shirt and leather duster. In their place were leather pants, a navy button down and three quater length, leather coat. The only thing that he had retained were his army surplus combat boots. Very twentieth century, but he made the ensemble fashionable. He still felt the same to my senses, albeit stronger. The prominent cheekbone structure, lanky body and radiant cocky attitude (the one that dared anyone in a fifty mile radius to mess with him) were still in place.

The thing that struck me the most was how much stronger he had become. The power radiating off of him struck me as soon as I entered the room. I shuddered. The feel of him was the same, but it was much more intense than when I had seen him last. Not surprising -- vampires strengthen as they age -- but it was humbling to be in the presence of a vampire older and more powerful than I. In fact, I only know of one other besides my sire that is older than I, and that is my grandsire.

I chuckled silently. Out of the three oldest vampires in my line, and possibly the world, two had souls. Rather ironic, really.

I had stole into my sire's headquarters with ease, which was not all that shocking. While my sire's minions were well trained, I was even better equipped. Not many vampires are trained to use their senses to detect magical energies. One small stealth spell, and I was inside. A piece of the proverbial cake.

My sire dished out orders to his minions as fast as they could comprehend them (and in some cases, faster). The minions resembled ants as the scurried in and out to receive and carry out orders. I chuckled silently, yet again. I, myself, had once been an ant. With a smile still on my face, I moved until I was at the very back on the crowd.

Within a human breath, I let my shields fall, revealing my presence. A few of the assembled stumbled as the sudden assault of my power hit them in a sudden wave. All heads snapped toward my direction, and a few moved into a fighting stance but waited for their master's commands. The crowd parted, allowing my sire to get the first sight of me in centuries.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join?" I asked.

My sire's eyes traveled up and down my body. I had changed over the years, a lot more than my sire had. My signature fiery hair was masked with raven and fell toward my face, which was darkly shadowed by glittery powders. My button down and pants were both black. In years past, more color had sparkled in my wardrobe than now. As I have aged, I have come to appreciate the darkness against my skin. Or perhaps, I have spent too much time with my brooding grandsire. My demeanor had also changed; I had become harder than I once was. The hardness was reflected in my eyes and in the way I carried myself. Of all of the things that have happened since becoming a vampire, one of the few I regret is the loss of my optimism. I suppose that seeing everything you were as a human destroyed will do that to a person.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

His voice still carried the same "British" coloring, even after all of these years. My ears were glad to hear it. It was one of the little things that had always endeared me to him, and, in an age of globalization, I rarely heard regional accents anymore. It was rather refreshing.

I moved through the crowd, closer to him. Two guards moved to close in on me, to protect their sire with their lives, but he stayed them with a quick hand gesture. I continued to walk through the bodies until I had reached the point where my sire sat. In a gesture of respect, I dropped to my knees before him. My head was bowed and my hair fell toward my face.

However my words betrayed my actions. "Is this what I have to look forward to in a couple hundred years, old man?" I asked drily. I was hurt that he did not recognize me -- even if it had been a few centuries. "Loss of manners and eye sight? Goddess, just stake me now."

"Do I have to ask you again or are you going to tell me somewhere in this dreadful blather of yours?" he asked, annoyed.

"Who am I?" I asked, in the same flat tone. "You know, I'm hurt. You don't even remember me? Your own childe, no less. I'd like to think that I meant more to you than that."

"Look," he said. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but all of my childer are in the crowd, surrounding you. Quit playing games."

"But, daddy, you used to like my games," I deadpanned, coming to my feet. My hair fell back, revealing my face fully for the first time that night.

The minions started to close in at my sudden movements, but, again, my sire stayed them with a hand gesture.

As he studied my face closely, his eyes widened with recognition. "Willow?" he asked, finally.

"The one and only," I replied.

He stood and walked toward me. With aching gentleness, he lifted one of his hands and began to trace my features. It was a gesture that he had done many times in the past; however, it seemed to reassure him that I was really who I claimed to be. He leaned closer to me and brushed his lips over my cheek.

"I thought you were dead," he said in my ear.

I smiled slightly. "I'm hard to kill."

He turned back to the crowd. "I do not want to be disturbed for the rest of the evening. You're dismissed." My sire watched the crowd until the last of his followers had dissipated.

Turning back to me, he grabbed my hand and tugged on it. "Come, we have a lot to talk about," he ordered.

I followed him down a long hallway, examining as I went. His abode was an old brick mansion that had probably been inhabited by a rich entrepreneur of times past. True to form, however, my sire had updated the home with the latest technology. He had always loved to be surrounded by new things.

Stopping at the end of the hall, he pressed his hand to the lock's scanner. These days, keys were a thing of the past. Locks used fingerprinting or retina scans, depending on the level of security that the owner desired. The lock clicked, and he pushed open the door. He allowed me to enter first and then closed the door behind us.

The room was large. The side nearest to the door was a sitting area, complete with comfortable chairs and a fireplace. The other side housed a large mahogany bed, which in itself was from an era long gone. Nobody used wood anymore.

"Have a seat," he directed, moving over to a bar that lined one wall. "Do you want something to drink?"

I shook my head as I plopped down into one of the chairs.

He shrugged and grabbed a bottle of vodka. He poured himself a glass and set the bottle down. Taking a sip of the clear liquid, he sat in the chair opposite me.

Our gazes locked and we stared at each other for several long moments. Although we had parted on good terms, and it had been a mutual decision to separate, it had been a long time for both of us. Neither of us had expected to be gone so long from each other.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "what have you been up to?"

"Not much," I answered with a shrug. "Traveling and observing, mostly. Spent some time with Angel."

He growled at the mention of his sire's name. "How is the pillock?" he ground out.

I smiled. "Come now, Spike. You would think after all of these years that you could at least tolerate Angel. He is, after all, my friend."

He simply glared at me.

"To answer the question, he's doing fine," I said. "He's found happiness with a benevolent demon named Lillian. She suits him, and they get along great. They've been together for close to eighty years now, I think. Probably more."

Spike's body relaxed visibly. "Good."

I laughed. "You thought... Me and Angel?!" My laughter increased. "I could never be with Angel!"

At the look on his face, my laughter subsided. I knew that he had once endured the hurt of the woman he loved picking his sire over him. "Angel is just a friend. He's a great travailing companion and is the only one who can understand what it is like to be me, in a sense, but nothing more. I still think of him as Buffy's, and she died centuries ago."

Crossing the room, I sat down on the side of his chair. "I missed you," I told him, bringing my hand up to caress the side of his face.

Turning his face, he placed a soft kiss on my palm. "I've waited many years for this day to come. I waited, biding my time. I built a shield around myself, not allowing anyone to penetrate it no matter how hard they tried. I remained faithful to you, but finally I gave up hope. I believed you dead, but yet I still remained loyal to your memory. Hoping...wishing that you would come back to me. And now that you have, I do not know what to do."

Tears welled in my eyes. When I had left, I expected his life to move on as normal... I had wanted him to take another lover and forget about me. I never wanted him to close himself off to companionship. Fidelity was to be my sacrifice. I was the one who was supposed to carry the burden of him in my heart. I studied him carefully. He had changed too -- become harder. I had made him become that way.

"I never asked you to do that for me," I choked out.

He turned and looked at me. "Do you honestly think that I could have done anything else, pet?"

His endearment set me off. My body wracked with sobs filled with regrets. He pulled me into my arms, crawling my body close to his. I buried my face into his shirt and he gently began to rock me back in forth, in a comforting gesture. I gasped out my apology between sniffles.

"Sh, luv," he whispered into my hair. "It doesn't matter now. Nothing matters now. You're where you belong, at last."

His shirt was soaked with my blood tinged tears. Eventually my ragged sobs faded into little sniffles and then nothing.

I pulled back and looked up at him. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," I whispered at him.

"Hush, luv," he said softly.

"But-but I know it couldn't have been easy for you," I said, ignoring him. The thought of him being without companionship for years horrified me. It was impossible to think of, but I knew that if it was what my sire wished to do, he did it -- even though I had encouraged him to do otherwise.

He chuckled softly at my distress. "My nights weren't all spent alone, Willow. But I couldn't find anyone who could satisfy me; no one lasted very long. I eventually stopped looking and waited for you. You are my true mate; I cannot be happy with anyone else."

"But you said..."

"I know what I said. I have always remained faithful to you here." He picked up my hand and drew it to his chest. "I didn't want to... After you left, I wanted to move on. I wanted to forget about you, but I couldn't. Half of the time I was fucking another woman, I'd be wishing that it was you."

I pouted. "Real flattering, Spike. You always did know how to make me feel *really* special." I hit him on the arm. "And here you had me thinking that you had been alone all of these years. And you've been screwing around the whole time." Hit. "Not that I'm jealous or anything but you didn't need to make me think otherwise. I felt awful." Hit. "I mean, it's not like I asked you to put you're life on hold for me. I'm glad you mov-"

Cutting me off, Spike smothered my lips with his and caught my hand as I started to hit him again. I sighed at the pleasure of feeling his lips against mine. A part of myself that I had locked away for a very long time -- my passion -- came alive again. Parting my lips, I deepened the kiss and buried my hand in his hair, bringing him as close to me as possible. I slipped my tongue into his mouth, reacquainting myself with all of its crevices.

My sire returned the kiss with the same fervor. His tongue sparred erotically with mine, as his hand came up to stroke my cheek. The arm that rested around my waist tightened, as Spike stood. Hoisting my legs up, he carried me to the other side of the room and set me down on top of his bed.

I pulled back from him and toed off my shoes, setting the aside. "What is this?" I teased lightly. "Rush me right off to bed as soon as you see me? I'll have you know that I am a proper lady."

Spike's eyes twinkled. "Well, I happen to be a very bad man, luv, and I intend to have my way with you."

"Oh really?" I asked with an arched brow, as he leaned toward me.

"Really," he murmured, pressing kisses to my throat.

"Well," I said, with fake reluctance. "I guess I'll just have to let you have your way with me." I sighed.

Spike moved his lips from my throat to my mouth. "Luv..." he whispered. "Shut up."

To emphasize his point, Spike covered my mouth with his. Sparks ignited between us as our tongues intertwined and battled for the upper hand. Hands roamed over cloth covered skin, reacquainting themselves with long forgotten contours. Limbs entangled with each other so that one would not know where sire began and chide ended.

Slipping my hands in-between our bodies, I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, letting it fall onto the ground beside the bed. Then I set to work on his shirt. One does not realize how much skill unbuttoning a shirt takes until they try to do so while otherwise distracted. But the shirt soon followed the fate of his coat.

I ran my hands over his bare chest. Flipping us over, I straddled his hips and captured his ear in my mouth. I delicately nipped at the fragile shell and traced the crevices with the tip of my tongue. Spike groaned and threw his head back, allowing me access to his neck. Releasing my hold on his ear, I nipped lightly on the skin of his throat with blunt teeth. My bloodlust stirred inside of me. I fastened my lips over his jugular and sucked firmly with my lips, bringing the blood to the surface; however tempting, I did not bite down.

Childer need permission from their sires before they drink, no matter how close they may be.

Abandoning his throat before my desire to pierce the skin grew too great, I kissed my way down his chest, stopping at his flat nipples. I cupped his flesh with my hand and lowered my mouth to the nub of flesh. Alternating between pleasing suction and teasing bites, I worked over both of his nipples, inciting low moans from him.

I rolled off of him and stood at the end of the bed. Pausing long enough to catch his attention, I began to rid myself of my clothes. With a shrug of my shoulders, my coat fell to the floor. As I reached around my body to unhook my black bustier, I could feel my sire's gaze follow my every move, burning my flesh with it's intensity. I grabbed the front on the leather contraption and threw it aside, exposing my bare chest.

"Piercings, luv?" Spike asked, sounding amused. He had propped himself up on his elbows in order to watch me. The lust present in his eyes sent a shudder through me.

"Wha-...oh!" I exclaimed and looked down at my bare breasts. Through each nipple was a delicate silver hoop. "I lost a bet. A friend told me that I didn't have the guts to get them done so I did it just to prove them wrong -- with the aid of some particularly strong vodka." I shrugged. "You get used to them after a while."

I shrugged again and began to finish undressing. A sudden urge overtook me. I wanted my clothes gone; I wanted to be naked. With little hesitation or finesse, I undid my belt and stripped my pants off. My panties and socks followed.

Spike's gaze on my naked flesh was so intense that I felt as if fingertips instead of eyes were blazing a path on my body. He pulled himself from his reclined position and knelt at the end of the mattress.

"Beautiful," he whispered before capturing my lips.

My hands roamed down his body to his belt. With little fumbling, I unfastened it and pulled it out of his belt loops. I tossed it to the floor and moved to his button fly. One by one, I unfastened the buttons. When I finished, his shaft sprung free, unhindered by underwear.

I grinned. "Still have an avoidance of undergarments, I see."

"Touch me," he ordered.

"Yes, sire," I returned demurely.

I wrapped my fingers around his cock and rubbed his shaft, my thumb teasing the head on every down stroke. He groaned and arched into my touch, bringing a smile to my face. Sex is like riding a bike; once you learn, you never forget.

Placing a hand on his chest, I pushed Spike back onto the bed and pulled off his jeans completely. I climbed onto the bed and straddled his calves. Reclaiming his cock in my hand, I wiped away the drops of precum that had formed at the head and brought my fingers to my mouth, cleaning them of his fluids.

"Yummy," I commented, smirking. I lowered my body until mouth was even with his thighs. "And addictive." I quickly engulfed his shaft in between my lips, inciting a moan from his throat. My teeth and tongue teased his length as my hand cupped his balls.

"Damn," he breathed softly, bucking up into my mouth.

I relaxed my throat, taking him completely into me and then slowly drew back, never fully releasing him. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the underside of his cock. My hand trailed down from his balls to the sensitive skin between them and his anus. I gently massaged the area with my index finger.

Suddenly, hands wrapped around my upper arms and pulled me up to meet a kiss. Spike tangled his hands into my hair and pressed my lips closer against his. Our tongues melted together, and our fingers roamed each others bodies.

I gasped, pulling back from our kiss, as he brushed a particularly susceptible part on my body. His fingers delved into my folds, finding my wetness. He worked one finger inside of me until he could add another and another. His thumb brushed my clit as three of his fingers teased me.

Spike worked me until the point of orgasm and then backed off completely. I whined petulantly, but he ignored me. He brought his fingers up to my face, spreading my juices over my lips. I licked my lips, cleaning them of the fluid and grabbed his hand. One by one, I sucked his fingers into my mouth, wiping them with my tongue until I was satisfied that every trace of my wetness was gone from them.

Groaning, Spike flipped us over so that he was the one on top and plunged into me. I groaned, reveling in the feel of his length inside of me. It had been too long since I had known the pleasure that only my sire could give me. He rocked his hips, thrusting into me slowly. I tried to meet his thrusts, but his hands wrapped around my hips, pinning me in place.

My sire used the full degree of his skill and control. His thrusts varied from fast to slow, from shallow to deep. I threw my head back and moaned deeply. My hands had a mind of their own as the moved to my breasts, pinching and caressing the hard tips.

His assault of my body seemingly went on forever, but eventually his movements quickened and lost their practiced ease. His hands brought my hips up to meet him, crushing my clit against his pelvis. Electric sparks raced throughout my body.

"Come with me, Red," Spike whispered into my ear. "Come with me."

My sire brought one of his hand up from my hips and wrapped it around my head. He pressed my lips to his neck and groaned as I ran nibbling little kisses over the column.

"Drink," he commanded. His fangs sunk into my flesh the same time mine did his.

The sensation of his teeth penetrating my throat combined with the powerful taste of his blood sent me over the edge. Passion overtook my body -- controlling me, owning me. I thrashed wildly as the exquisite feelings raced through my being. Vaguely, I was aware of the evidence of my sire's own orgasm spurting inside of me.

We had climaxed at the same time.

Eventually, as it always does, the euphoria of orgasmic bliss left, leaving me a trembling mass.

"Are you okay, pet? Spike asked, pushing himself up. He had allowed his weight to rest on top of me.

I nodded and pulled him back. After just reuniting with him, I wasn't willing to let him go yet. I buried my face into his neck and licked the blood off of his wound. To my surprise, there was barely more than a slight tint to the skin where my fangs had penetrated his flesh.

Spike must have sensed my surprise because he commented, "Side effect of age, luv. I heal fast."

"But even I don't heal that fast."

"Really?" Reaching down, he grabbed one of my hands and brought it to my neck. He rubbed my fingers across the area where he had bit. "There's hardly more than a scar there."

"I guess," I said musingly. A smile formed on my face. "Maybe I should go bite my grandsire to test out your little theory."

Spike growled, yellow light coming into his eyes. "You will do well to keep your fangs well away from the poof," he ordered. "After all, wouldn't want to come between him and the little demon now, would you?"

I laughed. "Yes, sire. Anything you say, sire."

He smiled and looked down at me. "I love you, Willow."

"I love you, too, Spike."

We settled back down and basked in the feel of each other. It felt so good to finally be back in his arms that I completely relaxed for the first time in ages. The only thing I was aware of as I drifted off to sleep was a faint whisper.

"Anything I say, eh, luv?"