Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Buffy or Angel. I wish I did, but I don't!
Author's Note: This story takes place after the events in "Drawn to the Fire," my first Spuffy fic.
Let it Burn
With a graceful leap, she was on the ground, running full force toward her prey. He was tall and well-muscled for a corpse—rather, walking corpse—and he showed no indication of letting some woman who was two feet taller and about 200 pounds lighter than him stop him from walking out of the cemetery and going out for a night of sampling a human smorgasbord. Well, he wasn't exactly walking. He was running. Fast. And he was much more energetic than the usual midnight vamp of his stature.
"Bloody hell, he can move. Was I this fast?" Spike was panting as he fought to keep up next to the Slayer.
"Only when you wanted to be," she murmured, focusing all of her attention on anticipating the attack and the kill. She bounded ahead by several paces, and Spike finally slowed, letting his human heart and lungs have a rest, while his wife finished the patrol with a bang. It was more like a shower of dust, but bang-filled nevertheless.
"Are you alright?" she asked as she re-approached him.
"Fine," he muttered. "Just missing the luxury of not having to breathe, pet."
"But isn't it much better not having to take a blanket out with you when you're in the mood for a mid-afternoon walk?"
"Mmm, I love that you know just what to say to an ex-vampire to make him feel better about the fact that he's nothing more than human."
"Hey, that's not true. You have your vampy strength."
"Remind me to send Red a thank you card for that, by the way."
"It's been five years. I think she gets your gratitude. And the flowers you send with her birthday card every year? I think she's starting to get a little freaked out."
"What? I'm being nice. It's the human thing to do." The two of them turned toward the gates of the cemetery, and within a few minutes, they were driving back toward their home. It still wasn't quite up to par with the home Buffy had lived in in Sunnydale, nor the one they'd lived in during their brief stay in Hollows, but they'd moved there after the fiasco with Riley and the Initiative, and for the past five years, they had had no trouble from that side of the fence, though they had had their share of close calls with vampires and demons. Lucky for the Summers-Pratt family, vampires couldn't enter without being invited, but demons were another matter all together.
"Five bucks says Dawnie's asleep and Bex is up watching monster movies," Buffy said, stifling a yawn, as she pulled the dark blue family car into the drive way. It was certainly not the kind of car a vampire, or ex-vampire would generally go for, but it got them from A to B and got the kids to school on time.
"Ten says it was Bella's idea, and she's making him watch with her," Spike replied.
"You're on," Buffy laughed. "Our daughter might be a lot of things, but she's no fraidy cat."
"No, but I wouldn't put it past her to spook our boy, either. She's a lot like her mother, she is. Always pushing the boys around."
"And that's a bad trait because….?" Buffy teased. She turned off the engine and the lights, and they both shuffled out of the car, down the side walk, and in the front door. To both of their surprises, the only person awake was Dawn, and she was sitting on the couch reading a chapter in her text book for tomorrow's big quiz.
"How was patrolling?" Dawn asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice. She'd have much rather been out helping slay vampires than studying Romanticism. College was a bummer. She hadn't had to take a summer semester, but it was more inviting than sitting at home all day waiting for the phone to ring.
"Normal," Buffy and Spike spoke in unison, hanging their coats in the closet.
"You know, you're starting to finish each other's sentences and say the exact same thing at the same time. I think you should seek help."
"Dawnie, when you've been together for so long…"
"You finish each other's sentences and do everything together, yadda yadda barf." Dawn had been in a bitter mood ever since her first steady boyfriend, Kyle, whom she'd been seeing for a year, decided that he'd much rather go kayaking with his buddies over the summer than spend time with his girlfriend.
"No word from Kyle, huh?" Buffy asked, as Spike bolted for the kitchen partly to avoid this conversation, but mostly to see if there were any leftovers from dinner. Chili cheese fries from the food court at the mall, courtesy of Dawn Summers, junk food specialist extraordinaire.
"What do you think?" Dawn asked, bitterness dripping from her voice like venom from a viper's fangs.
"Ouch, sore subject still?"
"It's only been a month, Buffy. He hasn't even called!"
"Well, you did let the air out of his tires. Can you really blame him?"
"I thought he'd think it was a romantic gesture. Who knew he'd think I was crazy and decide to avoid me?" She shrugged. "Whatever."
"How are they?" Buffy nodded toward the stairs.
"Sleeping. Finally. Geez, Buffy, are you sure your kids aren't part vampire? I mean, they never want to sleep at night, but falling asleep at the lunch table is perfectly normal?" Buffy smiled sheepishly at her sister. The reason the twins' sleeping pattern was so off was mainly due to the fact that many nights of sleep had been disturbed by breaking glass or fights taking place in the back yard. They'd already replaced three patio doors that year alone. Being a Slayer was expensive and totally destructive to the interior and exterior of homes, she'd decided.
Explaining to the children that the broken glass wasn't because of a fight by their mommy and daddy was also an interesting topic to broach. They were still young enough that talk of the spookies that could be hiding under their bed or in their closet was scary, so telling them that those spookies were actually real wasn't exactly something the parents wanted to do just yet.
"Let them have their innocence just a while longer, luv," Spike would say. "Growing up is enough of a monster movie as it is. Let them be."
"I'm going to bed, Dawnie. Turn the lights out when you go up."
"Night," Dawn called. Buffy headed up the stairs, and Spike came into the living room munching on the stale fries. Dawn made a face.
"You've been human for how many years? You'd think you'd have at least packed on some pounds. I thought I was the only one who could eat like a pig and not gain weight."
"Guess that's another gift Red gave me, eh, Nibblet?" He headed up the stairs to join his wife, who was already laying face first on the bed. She wasn't sleeping, but she felt too tired to even take off her shoes. Spike smiled, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans and closing this door.
"If you want sex, you're going to have to do it yourself. I'm too tired," Buffy murmured. Spike raised an eyebrow, moving over to stand behind Buffy. He reached down, slipping off her boots.
"Well, that's no fun, is it?"
"Unnhhhnnn," she mumbled into the pillow. Spike grinned, sitting down on the side of the bet, bringing her feet into his lap, rubbing them mercilessly. Buffy relaxed against the bed, and before Spike knew it, she was turning over staring at him through drooping eyelids. "That'll just make me fall asleep faster."
"Thought you didn't want…"
"Shut up," she teased, reaching out for him. He crawled over her, kissing her softly, feeling her hands begin to explore beneath his shirt. After five years of marriage, Spike still knew how to push all the right buttons, and Buffy knew exactly what she had to do to get that little growl out of him.
She brought her hand around to caress his ass through his jeans, and he moaned, suckling her neck, and when that same hand moved down the back of his leg and then came around to cup the bulge in this jeans, that growl came out, and she smiled, reveling in the power she still held over him, though she tried her best not to get too cocky, because Spike still had some tricks up his sleeve that could make her melt like butter.
Clothes were quickly scattered to the floor, and Spike trailed his lips and tongue down her neck, briefly pausing at the hollow of her throat before moving lower to tease one nipple and then the other, causing Buffy to arch her back and moan, as her hands gripped his shoulders. He moved lower, kissing her stomach, and as she bent her knees, feet flat against the mattress, she closed her eyes shut desperately as he moved in to taste her.
His tongue spelled out delicious, dizzying circles, before he got the desired result. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and he suckled on her clit for a moment, before moving back up, claiming her lips with his own, begging her to taste herself on his lips.
"Oh God," he moaned, as her hand found his erection, pumping him slowly a few times before she joined them together. He sunk into her, and she buried her moans against his shoulder, kissing him there, gently nipping at his should blade with her teeth. His hand moved behind her knee, pulling her leg up to drape against his hip. This brought him further inside, and she could almost feel him against her cervix.
"Spike," she groaned, closing her eyes tightly. He answered her with a trail of wet kisses from her neck to her collarbone, and he began to pump inside of her, as her walls both stretched and constricted with each thrust.
"Christ," he hissed as she pulsed her walls just to drive him mad. She chuckled, as his hand moved torturously slowly down her side, tickling her while he picked up the pace as their hearts began to pound in sync.
In a matter of minutes, they both came, and collapsed together, spent and satisfied. Spike's hand rested on her thigh, while she caressed his back, and they lay in silence for a long while.
"Much more fun that doing it alone, luv," he finally muttered. She couldn't help but laugh, and she turned to face him. He gathered her in his arms, pulling her close, kissing her. When he finally pulled back, her piercing green eyes mirrored the same affection his ocean blues did. He gently caressed her hair, pulling strands up to watch them glisten a reddish brown in the light. She'd gone back to her natural color, and while he missed the honey blonde, he thought the brown looked stunning with her eye color. "You're beautiful."
"You're cheesy. Can't you think of anything else to say?" she teased. He smiled that half-cocked smirk at her, and she leaned in to kiss him, lingering against his lips for a few moments. She pulled back and cocked her head at him. "We need to think about getting jobs." Spike raised an eyebrow.
"Where the bloody hell did that come from?"
"Sorry," she giggled, "I just think it would be good. What happens with the kids have career day? We go in and tell the kids we kill demons and get out money from the funds the slayer army's raised?"
"Technically, not anymore, luv. Giles fixed up the Watcher's Council, and we get paid from them." Buffy eyed him. "Don't feel guilty, luv. Being the Slayer's a lot more demanding than any job at some office could be. Besides, I've got a job. My book." Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, and you haven't submitted it to any publishers."
"It's hard, you know. It's true, luv. But it'll read as fiction."
"'The Life and Times of William the Bloody' does read like a fantasy, doesn't it?" Buffy laughed. "So, they'll think he's a character you created all by yourself. They don't have to know it's your autobiography."
"And I'll know."
"I'm having second thoughts, luv. What if Bex and Bella find out…"
"They'll have to know someday, Spike. But all the bad just shows that you're not like that anymore. What you did before you had a soul…before you had a chip, for that matter, it's nothing. It's not what counts." She placed her hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "You're a good man and a good father." She kissed him, a twinkle appearing in her eyes. "And a good husband."
A scream from the next room had them both sitting up in bed. Spike started to get out of bed, but Buffy shook her head.
"My turn, remember?" She slipped into her white, silk bathrobe, tied it firmly around her and padded out the door and into the next room. Bella was sitting up in bed, sweat dripping from her as she turned on her pink bedside lamp. Her hair, despite her parents' natural colors, was still as bright blonde as it had been the day she was born. Bex was the same way. Joyce and Hank had had blonde hair, but Buffy wasn't sure about Spike's family. Did century-old genes still last in the gene pool anyway?
"Mommy," the little girl sniffled.
"Bell? What's the matter?" She knelt down on the pink carpet beside the pink bed, to see her daughter shivering in her pink footy pajamas. She drew the little girl into her lap, and Bella began to cry against Buffy's chest. "What is it, Bella? Was it a bad dream?"
"I feel different, Mommy." Buffy furrowed her brows.
"I don't know," she sobbed.
"Do you want to sleep on the couch?"
"No," she sniffled.
"Do you want to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's room?"
"No," she said, crying harder. "I'm not scared, Mommy." This was true. As Buffy had said to Spike earlier, Bella Elizabeth Pratt was not afraid of many things. She hardly ever got scared, but now, she was shaking all over. It certainly appeared that she was scared.
"What happened then?"
"You wouldn't believe me, Mommy," Bella cried, gripping her mother's robe in her tiny hands.
"Well, we won't know that until you tell me, will we?" Buffy asked, smoothing her little girl's hair. Bella considered this and looked up at her mother with her sad, bright blue eyes. She crooked her finger, and Buffy leaned in.
"I lost my super powers." Buffy was taken aback. She hadn't said it as if this were a childhood game. She'd said it as if she had truly lost a part of herself.
"Wh…what?" Buffy stammered.
"See! You don't believe me," Bella cried, tearing herself away from Buffy and crawling under her covers. Buffy placed her hand on her little girl's back.
"Bell," she soothed, "you were dreaming."
"What do you mean, you lost our super powers?"
"I don't know. I…it's a feeling, Mommy." The meaning behind these words were far beyond a five year old's comprehension.
"Try to explain, Bell. I'm listening." She stroked the little girl's hair, and soon, she was calmer.
"Well," Bella sniffled, turning to look at her mother. "I couldn't fly or anything, Mommy. I just…I can run faster than the other kids, and I don't get tired." Buffy thought for a moment. This was true. Bella did tire, but not as easily as other little girls her age. "Bex too. And I always have this feeling. I don't know what it is, Mommy, but I had it. But I don't have it anymore. It's gone."
"What feeling, sweetheart?"
"Like…like I'm s'posed to do something." Buffy closed her eyes. She and Spike had often talked about the possibility of their children being more than ordinary, but with that privilege comes great responsibility and great misery at times, and each time their children had shown a talent or skill that might have been exceptional for their age, they'd over look it, just saying they were a little ahead of the other children. But hearing these words from her daughter's mouth told her two things. Her daughter might very well be a Slayer, and if this was true, something very odd was happening. "Do you believe me, Mommy?"
"I believe you, Bella," Buffy said with a sad smile. "It's alright. Go back to sleep, and we'll talk about it in the morning, ok?"
"Ok, Mommy." Bella closed her eyes, and Buffy stood slowly, knees weak, heart pounding. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and when she entered the hallway, Spike was standing there, face a little pale, a burdened look upon his face.
"I heard," he replied. "We'll phone Red in the morning, and…" Before he finished his sentence, the phone rang, and Buffy glanced at her husband. Without even having to look at the caller ID, they knew who it was.
"Wil?" Buffy asked, picking up the receiver.
"Buffy." The word was a bit strangled coming out of Willow's mouth. It was as if she'd been crying.
"Wil? What happened?"
"They're dead. They're…it was a massacre," she panted. "Kennedy was there too. She's…they're all dead." Buffy had to grip the phone to keep from dropping it.
"Who did it?"
"I don't…it was…I don't know. There was nothing different about them. They were vampires. They…they died too. I mean, most of them did, until they got the upper hand." Buffy's heart began to pound harder, faster. "Kennedy just…she looked at me right before he got her. It was like she'd…she'd lost something. Like she lost her strength." The phone then slipped from the Slayer's hand, and Spike made a grab for it before it clattered to the floor.
"Willow?" He took the call into the other room, and Buffy slid down the wall, closing her eyes and trying to take it all in. There were three things she was now sure of. Her daughter was supposed to be a slayer, the Slayer army was now down at least two hundred in numbers, and she was going to have to contact Faith right away.
Spike came back out into the hall a few minutes later, and he knelt down next to Buffy.
"She's a Slayer. Bella."
"Not anymore," he whispered. "Red said she called Giles and Faith. The same thing's happening in London. It's a bloody massacre." Buffy winced and closed her eyes. As she rubbed her temples, Bella came walking out of her room, looking at her parents with curiosity in her eyes.
"Mommy? Daddy? What's a Slayer?"