His Childe

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His Childe

Kallysten

Disclaimer : Of course they belong to someone else, I just play with them sometimes.
Distribution : Sure, just tell me where.
Story notes : AU, set after As We Were and before Hell's Bells.
Warnings : Character Death, Bloodplay, NC-17 in future chapters
Feedback : Anything but flames kallysten_fr@yahoo.com As for most fanfic authors, feedback motivates me to write faster... (hint, hint)

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Amends

Warily, Spike observed as Buffy and Angel came back inside. They both looked somber, and he wondered what had gone on in that alley. Leaving the two kids chatting on the couch, he walked toward the two souled vampires. He managed to repress a sigh when Buffy’s arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. He knew she was his; that didn’t mean he had liked seeing her walk out with the poof.

“Everything alright, pet?” he asked gently.

She raised her hazel eyes to him, love shining in them. Love for him.

“Everything’s fine. Angel… understands now.”

Spike glanced at his frowning Sire. Understanding wasn’t exactly what he looked to be. Hurt, sad, yes, but understanding? Though it was a bit hard to judge, with the usually inexpressive face covered in dried blood and already appearing bruises. As he surveyed his handiwork, Spike couldn’t repress a smug smile. It had been a hell of a fight, but it had been bloody good too.

“I’ll go get you two some blood,” Buffy said thoughtfully, her mind probably following the same path as his.

With that, she gave him a quick peck on the lips and pulled away from his embrace, walking back to the shop. His eyes followed her, unable to let go of her sight.

“She said she would kill me for you.”

Startled, Spike turned his gaze back to Angel. The brunette’s head was tilted slightly, his eyelids reduced to narrow slits, as if he was gauging him.

“She said that?” Spike murmured, mild surprise and pride seeping through his voice.

Angel simply nodded, never ceasing to observe his Childe. It occurred to Spike that Buffy’s threat might not be enough to deter Angel.

“I would kill you for her,” the younger vampire declared quietly. “If that’s what it takes to have her. I would kill my own Sire.”

Again, Angel nodded, more slowly this time.

“I think you made that clear earlier,” he replied. “And I will try not to give either of you a reason. I can’t say I approve though.”

The beginning of a smile crept on Spike’s face.

“’Never thought you would. And it’s not like we need your approval anyway.”

Angel didn’t react to the taunting. Instead, he whispered the very last words Spike would have ever thought he would hear from him.

“I’m sorry.”

Spike frowned at the words, wondering what in hell Buffy could have told Angel to make him an even bigger poof than he already was.

“Sorry about what?” he asked, trying, and failing, to make his voice sound unconcerned.

The shadow of a smile rose to Angel’s lips, and he shook his head lightly.

“The list is long I guess. Let’s just say I’m sorry about the crypt and about today.”

Stunned, Spike stared as the man in front of him divested himself of his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing his right wrist.

“I took too much on purpose and for wrong reasons,” Angel said very low. “I offer reparation.”

Spike couldn’t believe his ears and eyes. His Sire, apologizing, and proposing to give amends? He couldn’t detach his gaze from the exposed skin that was proposed to him. That was where he had drunk from, the very first time, so long ago. It was also from that same wrist that he had received rewards, a few precious times, so very rarely. Unconsciously, he licked his lips.

Buffy chose that moment to come back from the shop. She handed each of them a pack of blood, oblivious to the tension crackling between them.

“I called home,” she said quickly. “Willow told me she found out where the three geeks are hiding. I want to go after them tonight.”

At the tone of her voice, Spike idly thought that she sounded both angry and embarrassed, and he wondered absently what was troubling her. Yet, despite the urgency of her words, he couldn’t make himself focus on her, his eyes still considering Angel’s bare wrist.

“Buffy, would you mind taking Connor and Dawn outside? We’ll be out in a minute.”

Angel’s quiet words made Spike snap out of his trance, and he glanced at the brunette before turning his gaze to Buffy. She was considering both of them with a slight frown. She finally noticed the rolled sleeve, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise, immediately looking up at Spike’s, questioning. His hand rose to her face, fingers brushing against the soft skin of her cheek.

“If you don’t want me to,” he murmured, “I won’t.”

Her hand mirrored his gesture, caressing his face, and he leaned into the soft touch. She didn’t say a word, but something passed through her eyes. She knew what it was like to crave her Sire’s blood. She understood.

* * * * *

Unable to force a word out of her throat, and not knowing what she would have said even if she had been able to talk, Buffy left the two men and joined the teens, beckoning them outside. She noticed the looks that both Dawn and Steven darted toward the vampires. Dawn was worried. Steven seemed… curious.

Buffy wasn’t so sure what her sentiments were. She knew what was going to happen. Angel’s bared wrist would have been enough to clue her in, but what she had seen in Spike’s eyes had confirmed it. Bloodlust, pure and simple. She couldn’t help but feel a tingle of jealousy that he would drink from someone else than her. Yet, at the same time, she understood, all too well, why he would. She herself couldn’t get enough of her Sire’s blood. She loved him, and couldn’t get enough of all of him as a rule it seemed, but she knew it was her demon demanding his blood. Not just any blood, his. Not because she loved him, but because she was his Childe. Why would it be different for Spike? She wondered when he had tasted Angel’s – no, Angelus’ - blood for the last time. Probably a long, long time ago.

As they waited outside next to the rented car, Buffy realized that, if she knew who Steven was, they hadn’t been formerly presented. She offered her hand to him, smiling gently when he shook it awkwardly. Someone still would have to explain to her why he was a teen and not a baby.

“I am Buffy. I’m a friend of your father. Glad to meet you, Steven.”

He considered her for a little moment, his head tilted, brown eyes looking deep in hers, very much like his father’s.

“Dawn told me you are the Slayer,” he said finally. “If you’re supposed to kill vampires, how can you be friend with them?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. Rude, she thought. A quick glance at Dawn revealed that her sister was annoyed by the boy’s reaction.

“I am the Slayer,” she conceded. “I get to kill any harmful demon that crosses my way. That doesn’t mean all of them.”

She crossed her arms, getting even more exasperated by the deep frown the kid was giving her.

“Steven has a little problem accepting that not all demons are bad,” Dawn supplied with a sigh.

Grinning at the idea that flashed through her mind, Buffy looked around, making sure that no one could see or hear them.

“Not only I have vampires and demons friends,” she said quietly as her eyes settled on Steven again, “But I’m also in love with one. And I happen to be a vampire myself.”

With the last words, she flashed her game face at the kid, baring her fangs in a mocking smile. He gave a start, but did not take a step back or show any fear.

“So…” he said faintly, “you’re a vampire who kills other vampires?”

She nodded, the barest smile tugging at her human again features.

“Yes. Like your father. And like Spike.”

“Talking about me, luv?”

She turned toward the two approaching men, physically so different and yet so similar in every other way. Both vampires. Both clad in black leather. Both bruised and bloodied. Both had drunk from her. Both had shared her bed. Both she had battled. Both she had loved. But only one held her heart now.

Spike came to her, his arm sliding naturally around her waist. Angel stayed at a reasonable distance.

“We’re going back to LA tonight,” he declared, talking both to her and Steven, getting identical nods as a reply.

A few minutes later, Angel was leaving Dawn, Spike and Buffy in front of their home, and riding away with Steven. As she was striding toward the house, Buffy noticed that her sister stared at the car until it vanished. Strangely enough, Spike did the same thing.

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