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The Sire's Call

Past-Spike stared at Past-Buffy in bewilderment, but the pain shook him to his very bones, and he was forced to double over. "No," he gritted out. "No."

Past-Buffy folded her legs under her and rested Past-Spike's head on her lap. "You have to. I'm pretty sure disobeying hurts you, and won't stop hurting you. But, if you hurt me, then your pain stops."

He shook his head slowly, pain racked his whole being. "I won't. You can't make me." His voice broke and cracked with pain and tears.

Past-Buffy ran her fingers through his soft curls "Spike, please."

Past-Spike lifted himself to a kneeling position, bracing himself against Past-Buffy's shoulders. His lips quivered and he sucked in a shaky breath. "I love you, Buffy." He struggled to quirk the corners of his mouth, but the task was too great for his condition. "There's no bloody way I'm hurting you." Each word was a struggle, a chore he finished through pure defiance.

Past-Buffy cupped his face and dragged her lips softly over his. "Yes, you are."

Past-Spike trembled uncontrollably in her hands, and moaned as another shot of venomous agony shot through him. "N-o," he moaned again.

Past-Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue as she searched for a plan. Inspiration struck and she bit her tongue until her teeth met. It hurt, but the fear of losing her vampire was greater than the pain.

Past-Spike stiffened when he smelled the blood. He looked at her. "What-?"

Past-Buffy brought his face to hers and once again kissed him. This time she forced his mouth open and slid her bleeding tongue passed his lips.

His reaction was immediate. His face shifted as his demon surfaced. He pulled her against his chest as he suck the blood from her tongue. His fingers dug into her hips and his fang recut the already healed wound. He pain ebbed and he moaned, this time in pleasure.

Past-Buffy was stuck between pleasure and pain as she and Past-Spike's vicious kiss continued. Plan worked, she thought. That is a good thing, right? The pleasure washed away, and she struggled to keep from pushing him for her.

Past-Spike's mind cleared as the pained dissolved. He was then aware of his actions. His fangs had cut Past-Buffy's mouth ruthlessly; his long fingers gripped her painfully as he held her against his body.

He jerked away from her, his face human once more. "I—" Tears came to his eyes. "I gotta go. I'm… sorry." He scrambled to his feet and took off through the cemetery. The Slayer's blood he had drank, though only a small amount, had healed most of his minor wounds, and helped greatly with the major ones.

"Spike!" Past-Buffy called after him.

He didn't stop until he hit his crypt; once there he collapsed in front of the building. He dropped his forehead against the door, silent tear slid down his cheek. He was ashamed of himself; appalled by his behavior. He was angry at Past-Buffy, angry at himself. Self-hatred rolled off him in waves.

The door to his crypt opened and he looked up at Angelus, who stood in the doorway. "Well done boy. I knew you had it in you to hurt her. It's what you are. What we are."

"No, I'm not… I have a soul."

He knelt in front of Past-Spike. "The soul is a corruption. We're meant to be sadistic, evil… pure in our way. The soul is a perversion, something not meant for a vampire."

Past-Spike searched Angelus' eyes. "I'm a monster," he said.

"It's intoxicating, isn't it? We know what we were meant to be, what you are. We're the thing nightmares are made of. Blood, sex and rock 'n roll." Angelus chuckled.

Past-Spike nodded. "Yeah."

"William, are you ready to come back to the fold?"

Past-Spike stared into Angelus' eyes, his own deadened to all emotion. "Yes, Sire."

Angelus wrapped an arm around Past-Spike and pulled him to his chest. "Welcome back, Childe."


Buffy lay silently in Spike's arms as they once more shared the cot in the basement.

Spike kissed her neck as he rubbed her arm soothingly. "What's wrong, baby?" he whispered against her skin.

"The last time we were down here, it was the last time we really talked; the last time we made-love."

Spike turned her so she faced him. "Honestly, it was the first time we made-love. You never loved me any other time, and I wasn't aware of real love until my soul. I thought I loved you with every fiber of my being, I was wrong."

She frowned at him. "You don't?"

He brushed his lips against her collarbone. "I didn't, not until the soul. I hurt you, Buffy. I thought I was incapable of that." He looked down. "I don't know how you can love me after what I tried to do. What I would have done."

Buffy slid her fingers under his chin and lifted his face to hers again. "No, you wouldn't have. You stopped."

"Because you made me. How can you even look at me, Buffy?"Buffy ran he thumb across his cheekbone, and he closed his eyes momentarily. "I love you, Spike."

"How could you?"

"Spike," Buffy smiled. "I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me you bring out."

Spike stared at her in shock. "You read Roy Croft?"

"After you died, I read a lot of poetry. All the ones you read to me, or quoted at me, or simply read to yourself. I did anything that made me feel closer to you."

Spike smiled, his eyes glittered. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

His faced turned lustful. "Tell me you want me."

His dialoged struck her, and she knew who he was quoting, what scene he was remembering, and she remembered what to answer with. "I always want you. Point in fact—"

Spike kissed her. "Shut up."

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike's shoulders, devouring his mouth. All too soon he moved to her neck, allowing her to breathe. "God, Spike, I love you."

Spike's gripped her tighter. "Say it again."

Buffy ran her fingers through his curls; she grabbed a hand full and tugged it lightly. "I love you. Now it's your turn."

"Buffy I—" Buffy interrupted him.

"No, Spike, show me. Make-love to me, Spike."

Spike buried him face in her soft, golden hair. "I love you so much, Buffy Summers. So much."

Buffy moved her mouth to the vulnerable flesh of his neck, sucking and nipping it.

Spike groaned and moved his body over hers. "Say it, once more."

"I love you," She touched the span of his smooth, bare chest, her hand stopped at the top of his jeans and she looked into his eyes. "William Pratt. I love you for now… and always."

Spike dipped his head down and continued to devour her mouth, her body and her love; he soaked in the moment.

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