Sequel to Voices in the Dark; part of The Voicesverse
Summary: Oh, God, please don't make me. This has gotten really complicated...
Spoilers: Season 7 AU, takes place after my fic, Voices in the Dark
Distribution: Just talk to me, I'm easy.
Disclaimers: All Joss, all ME, all the time...
Feedback: You betta, you betta, you bet! Would love to hear from you! firstname.lastname@example.org
Special thanks to the usual suspects: Chris, who kept at this when anyone else would have been screaming for fewer drafts. Colleen, who has guests, but made her approval known in two short IM sentences, Kelly, who knows where the heart of Riley is, and Chen, who is a putz and keeps saving the fic for when I'm done. I sure did spoil her today!
But it had still been sex - him giving and her taking, or vice versa. Every move coldly calculated to bring the other back for more. More of a competition than a partnership. She'd had a taste of something a little different when he'd first come back from Africa. Twice. Then, he'd found plenty of excuses for not coming back for more. She'd hated it, but understood. If there was going to be an 'us,' then they had to like each other first, right?
This time, it had been just the two of them. In her bed. And no old ghosts, no reminders, were lying in wait for the wrong word, the wrong move. It was just them. She almost laughed as he pushed his head into her neck. Buffy and Spike. How lame was that? Maybe his name should go first.
Sex between them had always been something of a performance, too. He did it to her, she did it to him. Every once in a while, they did it together, which had been enough to send her screaming into a straitjacket in an alternate reality.
The real problem was, it had never been as good, meant as much, as the first time in that abandoned building. That first time hadn't been just sex. And not all the bravado in the world, from him or from her, could change that. It had scared her to death.
And this time, it was really different. Because her mind hadn't shut down - and neither had her heart. And the sex in the empty building paled in comparison. Finally.
She loved him and she couldn't pull him into her far enough. Technically, this time, there'd been no foreplay at all. Unless you counted the last six months. The last three years. Or longer. She tried not to think about how far back this went.
He pulled back and looked at her. "What?"
He turned over on his back, looking at a brown mark on the ceiling. Why hadn't she had Harris look at that? Roof probably needed mending. Not that it rained much in SunnyD.
"Thinking?" he said carefully.
"I love you. You know that, right?"
He was silent.
"Damn you. Are you gonna make me say it again?"
"Maybe. Thinkin' about it. I like the way you say it. Been waiting to hear you say it. Few more times won't hurt."
She got up on her elbow and looked down at him, eyes fierce. "You make me crazy sometimes."
He chuckled and traced a long finger down her jaw. "I'd forgotten that. I'll make you crazy now, if you like," he said with a suggestive smirk.
She threw herself over on her back. "I hate you."
This time, his laugh shook the bed. "No, you don't. You used to, but you don't anymore."
She turned over and stretched out flat on top of him, trying to cover him with her body, skin to skin, cool to hot. She felt him stir against her. They might fuss and fume, disagree and argue at the top of their lungs, but nothing and no one would ever make her give him up.
Buffy trailed her hand idly across Spike's naked thigh, careful not to touch anything 'important.' She grinned inwardly as a low moan ebbed from his lips. He was sleeping like the dead, she thought with a silent giggle. During the day, vampires wanted to sleep. They needed to sleep. But since Spike was such a piss poor excuse for the evil undead, even before the whole souly thing, he always pushed it. Hence the exhausted, down-for-the-count look.
It was getting late, but she just couldn't make herself disturb him. Besides, she'd been waiting months to get him where he was right now and she wasn't ready to give him up yet. And she was a little frightened of the recriminations that she was sure he would feel in the aftermath. God, she really hated his soul sometimes.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and her last conscious thought was, 'okay, just for a minute...'
She stood stock-still, sniffing the air like a predator at the disembodied voice that rang through the walls.
"We're going to take your friend away for a while. You and I need to... talk. If we talk nicely, he comes back to you. If not..."
The words hung in the air. Drusilla bowed her head, but inwardly she was seething with hate. She knew what he was back for. Pretty little pictures in his head. Pretty little slayers speaking soft, pretty words.
She wanted to spit on the clean, white floor. Stupid to try to make him her prey. The devil dwelt in him. That she knew. A sick, twisted devil with the face of a boy and a sparkly stick full of pain and limpness.
Three guards came in with tasers. Her knight coiled to attack, looking at her for guidance. A tiny shake of her head and a small moue of her mouth propelled him forward into their midst.
The door closed with a click. He would be coming soon. She had to be ready.
Dawn tore through the kitchen and the empty living room. "Buffy! Buffy!" Changing direction on a dime, she thundered up the stairs and slammed into Buffy's bedroom, just in time to see a bare white ass disappear into a pair of black jeans. Buffy was heading her off in an oversized t-shirt and nothing else, but it was too late.
"I saw Riley," she blurted out.
Spike turned around, just as he finished zipping his pants closed. Dawn didn't even take the time to enjoy his embarrassment at almost being caught with his pants down.
The slayer and vampire exchanged looks. Spike bent down and scrambled for his boots. Buffy started digging through the dirty clothes on her floor, hunting a pair - any pair - of jeans.
"He was near the Magic Box," Dawn explained, nearly out of breath. She gulped and tried to moisten her dry mouth. "He was lurking. I bet he lurks here next!"
Spike finished pulling on his boots. "Or the crypt," he said, under his breath.
Buffy stopped ransacking the floor and gazed up at Spike who was still seated on the bed. "What if he goes in?" She had a sudden image of Xander throwing his arms around beefy savior Riley Finn.
"He doesn't need to find Daniel. Daniel needs to get out of there. Get to Clem's or..."
"Oh, God, Spike, Clem's headed over there!"
Dawn tapped her foot, realizing that she'd been forgotten again.
"Oh, and nice work, guys. More scars. Spike, I saw your butt!" she said accusingly.
"Thirty seconds sooner and you'd have seen more than that. Count your blessings, Bit," he retorted as he ran his hands through his disheveled hair.
Buffy looked at her sister sternly. "Dawn. Out. Now. I'll be right there."
"Oh, yeah. Sure." Dawn said acidly. Taking one more look at the bed and at the two most recent occupants, she flounced out, closing the door with a snap.
Buffy gave the door a dark look and turned back to Spike.
"You're not going."
"Buffy..." His chin set stubbornly as a muscle in his jaw began to twitch.
"I mean it, Spike. You have the magic chip. The *one* that works. Riley knows that, even if the others don't."
"Slayer, Finn may be a stupid git, but he isn't exactly Dr. Evil..."
"Pop references much?" She shook her head. "He wanted to kill you, Spike."
"Buffy, he's shoved a stake in my heart before. True, it was plastic, but it could have just as easily been wood. He could have killed me then and he didn't. Just don't see it happening, love."
The slayer raised her eyebrows. "And when was this? Cause I don't know anything about this."
Spike looked down at his hands. "Right after you ... um, found out about Finn's little vice."
Buffy nodded her head slowly. "Got a visit, did you?"
"What else haven't you told me? What other little historical moments do you and my ex-boyfriend have?"
"A word or two."
"Well, maybe a few more than that. And some commiseratin' over a bottle in the crypt."
"You got drunk with Riley?"
"Bloody hell no! It was just a couple of slugs. Big slugs, but..."
"Well, I may have said something like he wasn't the long haul guy and a bloke's got to try, and..."
She let out a deep breath and shook her head. Suddenly, the whole scene at the crypt between Riley and Spike during the demon egg debacle made a little more sense, what with the massive testosterone overload she'd witnessed. Never considered any private interchanges they might have had. Just like Spike not to mention it.
"I don't have time for this. But this is suddenly a lot more dangerous than you seem to think. If he's already staked you once, plastic or not, there is no way you're going out right now." Her voice softened as she took pity on his helpless look. "Just sit tight for once and don't go all impulsive on me. Let me go to the crypt and get everybody scattered." And get Jonathan over here safe and sound to do something about the damn chip, she thought. "Then, we'll come up with a plan. Together. Okay?"
He sat silently, looking up at her with searching eyes.
"Oh!" Buffy walked to her closet and rummaged around inside. "And you might want to look the part the next time you mix it up with any baddies." A black twisting thing sailed across to the bed. Spike picked it out of the air.
He looked down at the worn leather and back to Buffy in surprise.
"You really thought I'd give away your coat? Your only coat?" she asked, stressing the 'your'. "C'mon, Big Bad, get in character at least. You need a little James Dean bad boy swagger to go with that Roy Rogers white hat soul."
Spike's eyes began to twinkle as a slow grin crept across his face. "Big *Bad*, is it?" he said, slipping into the coat. It fell about him like a second skin. She could almost see the individual muscles of his shoulders through it. Considering fainting, or ripping it off of him, she smiled instead.
He looked down at the coat, smoothing it with his hands. "Christ, Buffy," he said in outrage, seeing the deep new creases down the front to the hem. "What'd you do? Sleep in it?"
She laughed. "On it, mostly. In it? Not so much. Now. Time to deal with the 'brat kid sister.'" She opened the door, looking back once at the pseudo-evil guy in the black leather coat.
She almost ran nose first into a fuming Dawn as she exited the room, her mind still on the demon in black. Dawn looked at her so disapprovingly that she had to remember who the adult was. Oh, yeah, she had it now...
"Knocking is a good thing. Knocking is the polite thing. Knocking is..."
"Hello! Little sister here! We don't knock. We barge. In. Barge in. And besides, you've been boyfriendless for so long, I thought you were gonna take orders or something. Be Nun Buffy or Saint Buffy or... Buffy St. Marie."
"Stay out of mom's albums. You don't know how to take care of them. Spike says..."
"Oh. My. God. Spike says?" Dawn rolled her eyes. "You're not gonna start *that*, are you?" Dawn turned to escape into her room, tossing yet another perfectly aimed parting shot over her shoulder.
"And next time, put on a longer t-shirt!"
Buffy jumped as the door slammed.
He entered the room like he owned it. Like he owned her. And he smiled. Wicked, evil thing.
"Princess," he said, inclining his head.
She cautiously nodded back, not speaking. He had been known to capture her words, whirl them about his head, and return them to her, full of smoke and ashes, with his talk of science and psychology, babbling like a spring brook.
"I've missed you."
A lie. He missed what she gave him. She took a step back. Not in fear, but because she knew that the little red eyes above her watched her soul. And she didn't want them to see her soul when she began doing what he *told* her to do.
He'd stopped begging long ago. Or asking.
She had hoped he would forget she was here. Sometimes she forgot she was here, so why couldn't he?
"You do know we're in Sunnydale, don't you?"
Her head came up in surprise.
"You know Sunnydale?"
Pixies screamed 'lie, lie!' She shook her head.
"I saw Buffy's little sister. You remember Buffy, don't you? The slayer. You know her, don't you?"
Drusilla stared at him, eyes betraying her hatred at last.
He walked over and touched her cheek. "You *do* her so well. I should have known all that wasn't in my head. I should have guessed."
Her eyes widened.
"Seeing Dawn, being out of this place, helped me remember some things. Things Buffy told me about Spike. And about Drusilla, the vampire who could hypnotize anyone with her eyes, give anyone the dreams they desired." He smiled again. "But you didn't tell me who you were. Which makes this so much sweeter, since he now has what was mine."
She caught his meaning and clamped down on the surge of anger. She'd known sooner or later the slayer would surrender herself to her Spike. What woman wouldn't? Even the golden one. Sighing inwardly at the inevitable, she reached up to touch the big man's face, willing him with her eyes to be in her. She would give him what he wanted and he would go away for a while.
He caught her hand with a twist, and pushed it back, down behind her, pulling her into his chest.
"Oh, no, Drusilla. Not this time. No Buffy. This time, it's going to be you and me. No tricks. Let's see what you've got that would hang on to a man for over a hundred years."
She did spit then. The thought of him touching her and knowing it was her...
"Play nice now," he said softly, sparing a hand to wipe the pink tinged spittle off of his face. "Or your little friend goes for a midday walk. Or worse. You owe me for not killing you the first time we met, and I'm collecting. Now."
Buffy rolled into the crypt, shocking Xander and Jonathan, who were piling cheetos on top of each other to make a junk food castle.
"You got that spell ready?" The slayer wasn't taking 'no' for an answer.
"Uh, sure!" Jonathan stood up guiltily, sending yellow puffs all over the floor. At least, he thought he did.
"Wait. Where's Clem?" she asked, looking around at the mess they'd made of the crypt. Spike was not going to be happy.
Xander looked at his watch. "He hasn't made it yet."
Buffy tilted her head and looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean, 'hasn't made it yet?' This is Clem, the only dependable demon I know. He would have been here *early*! You did tell him?"
Xander stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving a trail of bright yellow powder. "Yeah, I told him. I told you I told him. And he said he'd be here."
"I've got a really bad feeling about this," Buffy muttered.
Jonathan threw out a pointing finger, "Han Solo, Empire Strikes Back!"
The slayer looked at him in disgust. "Where's Daniel? In his room?"
The smaller man shrugged. "I guess..."
Buffy started toward the stairs. "Get everything together that you need for the spell. We're getting out of here now!"
Xander stared after Buffy. "Now what's got into her? And I thought you weren't doing the spell?"
Shrugging again, Jonathan looked toward the stairs. "Maybe Spike's not calling the shots on this one?"
Xander kicked at the floor. "Man, he is so whipped!"
The big man pulled his uniform straight and smiled at Drusilla. "Nice, but not exactly what I'd expect from a hundred years of practice."
The vampire pulled the layers and layers of clothes around her, bare skin peeping through at her breasts and hip. Her hands were shaking in anger and disgust. It was all she had been able to do to keep from tearing his arms off his body. Only the reminder of what *they* would do to her, and to her little lamb, had kept her from sinking her fangs into his neck and ripping his throat out with her teeth.
"Think we'll just go back to the old way of doing it next time, if you don't mind. I'll be Riley and you be... Buffy. Okay?" he asked agreeably. "You're a little dark for my taste. The light is... lighter. You understand, don't you? Nothing against you, Princess. Just personal preference."
Riley Finn looked down at his uniform once more to check it for unsightly wrinkles. Or clues. He'd had the cameras turned off before he'd come in. Smiling at Dru again, he said, "Try to pull yourself together, Drusilla. Wouldn't want your little friend to get jealous, now would we?"
She shot him a look full of venom, but began fastening her clothes, even as she scooted further away from him until her back was against the wall. The pixies screamed so loudly she almost missed his next words.
"Or maybe your little one has found new friends." He frowned good-naturedly. "Matter of fact, I think I'll go looking for a mutual friend of ours. Later, princess."
He shot her a little salute and left the room. She shuddered and once again imagined what she would do to him if she ever got out of there. It made her smile.
She looked at him with suspicion. It was the last thing she expected, him just walking up and knocking on the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Don't act so surprised, kid," he said pleasantly. "I saw you see me. You knew I was in town. Just came to pay my respects. Belatedly, cause I've been back a few days, but 'respects' nonetheless."
"Where's Sam?" she asked, backing away as he moved into the house. A voice in her head was yelling 'Spike, get out!'
Riley waved a hand negligently, as he continued toward Dawn, face open with regret. "You know, that was the strangest thing. It didn't work out. Went back down to South America and we just... drifted apart. Sad, the way marriages are over almost as they begin these days. Now, Professor Walsh would have told you..."
"What the bloody hell are you doin' here tryin' to scare Dawn?"
Dawn turned her eyes to the top of the stairs. She almost sighed in relief at the sight of the figure that commanded the landing. Wearing the coat.
Yay, the coat! Now *this* was Spike! *Her* Spike!
Riley slowly and deliberately looked up the stairs. "Living here now, Seventeen?"
"None of your sodding business, Whitebread. And the menacing act won't work with me."
"That's because that, with you, I'm not acting. Not so white anymore, either. Just came by to see if you were around. Thought you might want to take a walk and talk about things."
"A walk?" Spike barked a laugh.
Dawn pushed Riley back toward the door, loose hair flying. "Buffy will be back soon and..."
Riley laughed and put a heavy hand on each of Dawn's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Really not here to see Buffy, Dawnie." The teenager bristled at his use of the pet name. "Came to see my old friend here," he said softly, looking up at Spike. "Catch up on things. Like our mutual friends." His gaze hardened, as did the ghastly smile that had become pasted on his lips like some parody in a horror movie. The hands on Dawn's shoulders tightened slightly.
Spike realized that he had miscalculated. Badly. He silently apologized to Buffy for not taking the return of Captain Cardboard more seriously. He sauntered down the stairs, leather coat swinging behind him, smiling a nasty smile. "Sure, mate," he said mildly, voice belying the look in his eyes. "Bring a bottle with? For old time's sake, true confessions, and what not?" He looked at Dawn. "Stay here and wait for Big Sis, Nibblet."
Dawn's eyes were full of fear. "But Spike..."
The vampire turned back to the girl, eyes narrowing. "Dawn. Do as I say, now. And no runnin' off to Janice's. Give her a call and ask her to come here, since you two have such big plans tonight." He turned back to Riley, nonchalantly moving his hand against Dawn's shoulder and carefully pushing Riley's unresisting one away.
"Phone works, right?" His mouth was turned toward her, but the question in his upturned eyes was directed at the man. Riley locked gazes with Spike, hard dark eyes with diamond sharp blue ones.
"Sure. No problem with the phone lines." Riley laughed. "Not that I know of, 'mate,'" he said mockingly.
Dawn looked down, hiding the surprise in her eyes. She didn't have plans with Janice. So something was up. And it looked bad, really bad, for Spike. But for once, she decided arguing would not be of the good. She trusted Spike, even if some people, like Xander, didn't. And there must be more to this than she knew. God, she hated her closed-mouth, secretive sister.
"Tell Buffy to go ahead and do what she wanted tonight, Little Bit," Spike said meaningfully. "Seems I have other plans."
Continued in Part 16