Author: Love’s Bitch, a.k.a. Kristin L. M.
Email for Feedback: Better than drugs! Will you help feed my addiction? miserychastain@hotmail.com
Summary: Sequel to my fic Enthralled. This time, it's Spike who finds himself in unfamiliar territory…but, who is he to complain? J The way S.6 should go. Spoilers: Takes place after my fic Enthralled. HINT: GO READ THAT. Rating:NC-17
Disclaimer: Credit where credit is due, Joss is God, Grr Argh, etc. I only wish Spike were mine. Lyrics belong to Rancid's song "She's Automatic."
Distribution: If you like it that much, you are my new best friend! Just let me know where it's going.
Deducation: To everyone who wanted a sequel to Enthralled, here ya go. And to Hilsy, Py, Daks, and Tracy, there is a line in here for each of you. And two for Py cuz I accidentally spoiled her. If you guess your line there's a choccy Spike in it for ya!

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Spike was on full alert as he approached his crypt. Loud music was emanating from the small building; he recognized it as his new Rancid CD. Now he was pissed off, too. Not only had someone broken into his home, but also they'd opened his new CD and were playing it when he hadn't even gotten the chance to listen to it.

"Rotten teenagers, I bet," he grumbled to himself. He crept up to the door, silently, even though the music would cover any sounds, and peeked in the window. He raised an eyebrow at what he saw. Buffy, dressed in a long black dress, was dancing around, singing to the music.

"She's automatic, so automatic, the way that she moves, the way that she mooooooves."

Buffy had been back from the dead no more than three weeks, but she had been acting like her old self almost since the moment she re-entered her life as a Slayer. Everything had gone back to normal, or so it had seemed. Spike could tell something was bothering her; the dark circles under her eyes were just one indication. But Buffy had wanted everything as normal as it could be, so Spike, like all the other Scoobies, ignored the circles, ignored the nightmares, ignored it when she stared off into space, and ignored it when they saw the fear haunting her eyes. They tried to keep everything business as usual, which meant Spike was supposed to annoy her and trade barbs whenever possible.

And now, Spike watched in awe as the Slayer's hips swayed in time with the music, a light smile dancing on her lips. A grin found its way to his own mouth, as a plan formed in his head. 'Just keepin' in character,' he thought, enjoying his evil little plan, nostalgic for bigger evil plans. He smirked, irritated with his chip for the millionth time that day, 'I'd prolly get zapped for just throwin' a water balloon at her.'

The front door to the crypt crashed open a few seconds later, but Spike did not get his desired response. He was hoping to embarrass her, but instead, she continued to dance seductively. He stepped back a moment, taking in the full scene.

There were black candles everywhere, all different heights, on his T.V., on his CD player, beside the bier, in the windows. Buffy was still dancing with her back to him, the black sleeveless dress she wore, dipping down in the back, all the way down to the divot at the small of her back. He stared, unable to look away from the bronze skin that was bared. His words died in his throat as she turned, her golden hair sweeping the air between them, and their eyes met. She didn't say anything, simply smiled at him, her hazel eyes almost glowing in the candlelight. When she finally faced him, he almost felt his heart beat. The front of the dress was almost as low cut as the back, dipping between her breasts, showing no tan lines, just pure brazen skin.

The music stopped all on its own, but Spike barely noticed as Buffy's smile broadened, and she winked at him. 'I've been waiting for you all night.' Her voice was low and breathy, making Spike's mouth water, but he noticed that her lips never moved. His mind tried to tell him something, something important, but he shoved it away. All he wanted to think about was that the Slayer was there, now, in that dress…

Spike was still standing just inside the door, slack jawed and tongue tied, when Buffy walked over to him, standing no more than two inches from him. She leaned in, as if to kiss him, so he bent his head to meet her mouth halfway. Instead of letting their lips touch, Buffy leaned to the right a little more, reaching between his body and his arm to shut the door behind him. He turned his head trying to catch her mouth, but she moved again, pulling away so she could nibble on his earlobe.

As if it weren't enough for the Slayer to be there, in his crypt, wearing that dress, now she was avoiding his kiss and nibbling only his sweet spots. It was delicious torture, and he had to work up the willpower to pull her away, so that he could take control. He was shaken from his concentration when Buffy moved her head lower, so she could nibble at his neck. She slowly moved her way along the fine angles of his throat until she came to his Adam's apple, which she nibbled lightly at, causing his eyes to roll up in pleasure.

At this point, Spike had had enough. He tried to grab her to pick her up and throw her on the bier and show her exactly what she did to him, but when he tried he found he couldn't move. Now his brain was screaming at him that something was off, that he knew what was going on, but he couldn't focus on the thoughts, because Buffy pulled back and met his eyes, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

'Naughty Spike,' he heard her in his head, sounding a bit too much like Dru. She pulled away, still running her hands along his tight, rock hard abs. His body ached for more contact, but it was Buffy who was in control and he was slowly beginning to understand what that meant. Her voice echoed in his head once again, 'How can I have my wicked way with you if you won't cooperate?' Suddenly her mouth turned down in a pout and Spike heard himself growl, impatient, wanting to capture the pout and make it smile. She was sexy as hell when she pouted, but she was a goddess when she smiled.

As if she had read his mind, a slow smirk replaced the pout and the mischievous glint in her eye returned. 'I have an idea,' the voice in his mind said as Buffy turned away, 'You stay there.' Spike wondered if Buffy actually thought he'd go anywhere, but said nothing, just waiting to see what she had planned for him. He couldn't help but grin broadly at the thought.

Moments later, the object of his desire returned, shackles in one hand. 'NOW we can play,' came the thought, and Spike couldn't repress the smart-ass remark that bubbled forth.

"Come on Slayer, we all know you're a good girl. Prolly don't even know what those are for," he smirked at her, on the verge of rolling his eyes, when, in the blink of an eye, he had been thrown from his spot by the door to the bier, and Buffy was on top of him, halfway through chaining him to the ceiling. Their eyes met, and Spike's lust was reflected back at him, tainted only by unadulterated cockiness.

Not only did she know what she was doing to him, but also she planned on enjoying every second of his torture. Spike's shocked expression was replaced by a look of true joy. A low growl escaped his throat as Buffy ripped open his t-shirt. In three swift movements, his shirt was torn to shreds and laying on the crypt floor. With another smirk, Buffy unbuckled his belt and torturously slow, she pulled it from his waist.

Once it was clear, she bent down, tracing his muscles with her tongue. She explored the expanse of his chest, shoulders and stomach, paying extra attention to his nipples, causing him to gasp in pleasure. She pulled back, the smile still fixed on her face, and she straddled his hips, settling herself, Spike noticed, so he had an up close and personal view of her breasts. Not that he was going to complain. What he didn't notice, while watching her chest, was that she had raised the belt. It was only after it had begun its descent towards his chest that he tore his eyes from her cleavage. The leather struck his skin, sending a delicious sting through his body and all of his blood downward.

Buffy raised an eyebrow when she felt his arousal beneath her. 'Got your attention, now, don't I?' the voice rang in his head, low and sultry. Spike let out an involuntary moan, unable to take in all of the sensations at once. Her heat settled against his hardness, her smell, like honey and sunlight, surrounding him, drowning him, the skin on his chest still singing with pained pleasure, the sight of her, beautiful and straddling him, looking like she was meant to be there.

Incapable of sitting there and taking it a moment longer, Spike used all of his strength, pulling against the chains. The link in the wall snapped, and without the barest of thought, he picked Buffy up and stood, crushing her lips with is, and walking her backwards to the wall. He pushed her up against the wall roughly, still kissing her with equal fervour, making her cry out. He braced himself for the pain in his head and the punch to his face, neither of which came. When he looked up at the Slayer, she met his fiery blue eyes with her own heavy lidded hazel ones, and this time it was he who smirked.

"No pain," he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, taking in the petite blonde's reaction. A small moan escaped her lips and she was leaning against the crypt wall, her knees weak with want. 'Who am I to deprive her,' Spike thought. Out loud, he said, "Now, love. It's you who has been very naughty." She nodded slowly, her breath coming in shallow pants, "Ambushing me, chaining me up," he pressed himself into her, letting her feel exactly how excited he was, eliciting another moan. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, and with every ounce of sensuality in is body, continued, "whipping me…now, it's my turn, pet. Now I'M in control."

Suddenly, Spike's mind was filled with many voices, all Buffy's, telling him what to do, how hard to do it, and to do it NOW! His head swam with the low and seductive tones, and he decided to follow directions.

Tangling his hand in her hair, he looked deep into her eyes and growled, "You're mine, Buffy," before capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss. While Buffy continued to let her hands roam his body, he reached up to the spaghetti straps of her black dress and considered, for a second, sliding them off her shoulders tenderly.

But just for a second.

Instead, he ripped the straps, letting the dress fall to the floor, leaving his guest completely nude. His first mistake was taking a moment to just look at her absolutely flawless body. His second was forgetting that, though he was no longer chained to the wall, the shackles still remained about his wrists. Taking advantage of both things, Buffy pushed him to the floor, straddling him again, and holding the chains together, over his head, effectively pinning him.

'You're so damn sexy when you think you're in control,' she practically sang in his head, while her lips were busy being licked by her tongue. Spike whimpered, in almost physical pain from anticipation. He was in some physical pain, his pants having become very restrictive. Buffy slowly rocked back and forth above him, the friction torturous, but not enough. Never enough.

She giggled as he whined, but didn't give up her spot, or stop her rocking. 'You know what I'm waiting for, Spike. Give in. Give in to me.' Her eyes flashed, promising everything he desired, anything he wanted, if he complied. Again, his senses were on overload, with the sight of her exposed curves and the heady scent of her arousal thrown into the mix.

Before he could stop himself, he ground out, in almost a whisper, "Anything…I'll do anything for you Buffy, anything you want…"

Literally out of nowhere, she produced a key, and as he unlocked himself, she busied herself with the zipper on his black jeans. He sighed in relief when he was free of restrictions, both on his wrists and below, and Spike waited, anxious to see what Buffy wanted from him. She stood, walked over to the bier and lay down, summoning his naked form with a look of pure heat. A look he almost missed, while watching her walk away from him.

Once he stood at the end of his makeshift bed, he heard her voice again in his head, 'Now that you know who is in control, you have my permission to…' the voice paused as if looking for the perfect word, though Spike suspected she was still trying to torture him, 'to ravage me.'

An identical smirk appeared on both blondes' faces and Spike had time to think, 'and that I will, pet,' before he pounced on her. She shrieked playfully as he landed on top of her, bringing a truly happy smile to the vampire's face. The beautiful woman beneath him lightly ran her hands up his arms, joining them around his neck, and, smiling down at her, one thought surfaced in his mind, 'This is how it should be.' He wasn't sure if it was his thought or hers.

With that thought, all the ideas of ravaging her went straight out the door. Looking down into her heated eyes, he realized what he wanted, all he really ever wanted: her love. And he saw it staring up at him, right then. So instead, he caught her eyes and leaned in for a tender kiss. He could tell that she was surprised, but from the way her arms pulled him to her, he also knew she was glad.

Spike had been extremely turned on by the chains and the belt, no doubt, but that was who he had been. As he deepened his kiss with Buffy, pouring into it all the passion he had pent up, and all the love he felt in place of his soul, he knew that this was who he had become.

'Oh, Spike,' he heard the whisper crawling in his brain. He pulled back ever so slightly to meet her eyes again, and the smile that met him would have taken his breath, had he needed to breathe. She looked at him hard, as if trying to decide how to continue, and after a moment, she opened her mouth to speak. For the first time that night, he heard her voice outside of his head, "Spike…I love you." He could've sworn he felt his heart beat at that statement, and he went to reply, but Buffy pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "I didn't realize it until I came back, and saw you. Saw you still here, still fighting alongside the gang, still protecting Dawn. But that was all it took for me to understand that you were right. Always right about me, and always right about us."

She paused, running a hand through his hair and down his cheek. He leaned into the touch, wanting to tell her everything he was feeling as well, but knowing she needed to get this out. "See, we have always been dancing. The lightly veiled sexual tension, the even lighter veiled death threats, the fist fights, each their own routine. I just never realized how much I enjoyed the dance, how good we were at it, together, until it was over. This time, I never want it to end."

Spike was so moved by her words that he was unable to speak even if he wanted to. Letting his actions speak for him, he leaned back in, meeting her lips tenderly, slowly letting his tongue trace her lips, until they parted, granting him access to his own private heaven. The kiss was over all too soon, as Buffy pulled away, her brows furrowed in thought.

Worried by the look, the bleached vampire hooked a finger under Buffy's chin, bringing her face up to meet his. "What's wrong, pet?"

It was then that he noticed the light shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes, and the light quiver of her bottom lip. She spoke again, her voice unsteady, but her purpose strong in her mind. "It's just that…I'm afraid, Spike." She turned her head as she said it, as if ashamed, "I'm afraid because it has all ended before. Twice. And I'm so afraid that next time…next time there will be no coming back."

The petit blonde who was settled below him turned back to face Spike. He was unsure of how to comfort her, so he put on his patented smirk and decided to go with honesty. "It's a risk, Slayer, it always has been, always will be. It's in the job description." The smirk softened as he continued, "But half of the joy of living is appreciating it for the short snatch of time it is. If you live your life lookin' over your shoulder, you miss the best times that are right in front of you." Brushing away a tear that had run over with his thumb, he placed a light kiss just below the eye that had shed it, "Like now."

A smile lit her face for a brief moment, but the darkness returned, and this time, Spike couldn't ignore it. No matter how much Buffy wanted things to be normal, they weren't; tonight had opened a new door for them and now it was impossible for him to overlook what had been going on with her. He silently hoped that with a little prying, he could get her to talk about it.

Completely forgetting their nudity and purpose, Spike rolled to the side so that they were lying together, instead of him on top of her. Taking a deep breath, and cursing himself as he spoke, he said, "We don't have to do this now, if you aren't ready. Knowing what you've told me tonight is enough for me, love." He raised one finger, tracing her cheek, and giving her a look to weaken knees, "For now, that is."

A smile that didn't reach her eyes crossed her face before she looked back up at him. "What about eternity?" she asked quietly, as though his answer would end her world.

"What about it, pet? It's out there somewhere, waitin'. S'got nothing to do with us." He was confused, and a sinking feeling in his stomach told him he wasn't going to like it when he figured out what she was talking about. She ran one finger down his chest, tracing the lines, and she looked away from his face again, thinking about how to carry on. Frustrated, Spike took her chin in his fingers and forced her to meet his eyes, "Explain."

Buffy stuttered for a moment, "Well, I mean…it's just that…" Finally she took a deep breath and voiced the idea that had lurked in the back of her head for weeks. "I want eternity. I want to live forever."

Realization very slowly made its way through Spike's brain, but the second he understood her meaning, he jumped to his feet backing away, "NO! Buffy, don't even joke about that. No bloody way. I'd never do that to you."

"For me," she corrected. "For us. Just think of it. Forever, together. Nothing would be different except I wouldn't have a heartbeat. And, hey, done that twice, I think I'll get used to it." She was teasing, but Spike was suddenly not in a teasing mood.

"Not funny, pet." He quickly pulled on his jeans, all of his attention focused on finding his cigarettes and talking the Slayer out of her fool plan. "The Scoobies, the Niblet…you have to think about them. What do you think they'd say?" He found his cigarettes on his TV, and shook one out, lighting it. "After they stake me, that is."

"I can't think of them anymore." The sadness in her quiet voice made Spike ache, "I died twice thinking of others. This time, it's about me."

"You'll watch them grow old," he continued, trying to sound matter-of-fact, but the sadness infected his own voice, "You'll watch them die, one by one."

"They've seen me die, why is that different?" Spike tried to protest, but Buffy stood and walked over to him, shushing him. "I know I'm being selfish, I know what I'm asking." She reached up and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, "Be selfish with me, Spike. Don't tell me an eternity together, fighting, threatening, and being together isn't tempting." As she reached up on her toes to kiss him, she whispered, "Do this for us."

With that, her mouth met his, and Spike was in heaven again. His arms made their way around her waist, pulling her to him. While his body claimed selfishness, his mind cried out against the idea. Her warm hands searched his chest, over his shoulders and around his neck, her small form trying to get as close to him as possible. She began kissing down his face and throat, and the voices in his head started up again. 'Please,' they called, 'for us…eternity is waiting…'

With a low growl, Spike picked Buffy up off her feet, and they made their way back over to the bier. He laid her down gently, climbing in beside her, "Buffy, I love you so much…but I can't do this…even if I wanted to, I couldn't…the chip…"

This time the smile did reach her eyes. Buffy sat up, pushing Spike onto his back. "It only goes off when there's pain. What if there's more…" he saw her blushing, and understood what she was saying, but wanted to hear her say it. "More…. pleasure…then pain?" She leaned down, peppering his chest and neck with light kisses, mumbling into his cold skin, "When might that bite be most pleasurable?"

Just the thought of tasting her blood as she came sent Spike right over the edge. He knew it was wrong, knew that he'd probably get staked for it, knew it would change her, but his body and his demon together screamed louder than these thoughts in his mind. He pulled her up to him, and they shared a desperate kiss.

When they parted, Buffy trailed kisses down his chest and stomach, taking his jeans back off as she did. After they were both divested of clothes once more, Spike rolled the Slayer onto her back, hesitating once more, just at her entrance. "Buffy…" He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so many emotions were trying to come forth at once; fear, desire, unconditional love, just to name a few.

Before he could go on, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and her voice came again, somewhere between a whisper and a moan, "Spike, please. This is how it should be." He couldn't tell if the voice was inside his head or not, and without another pause, Spike decided that selfishness wasn't so bad after all.

With that, Spike surrounded himself completely with her heat. Instantly he felt as though he were on fire, her body scorching him, and he knew it was as close to heaven as he would ever get. Moving slowly inside of her, he opened his eyes, watching her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open in a silent gasp, the perfect mask of ecstasy.

As if she could tell he was watching her, her eyes flew open, meeting his. He leaned down, kissing all along her face and neck, until her hands found his face, bringing his lips to meet hers.

It seemed like forever that they were lost in each other, neither knowing anything beyond the feel of one another. Fingertips caressing, lips searching, and tongues tasting, they spent their time in each other's arms well. They each explored their new lover, enjoying the almost painfully slow pace, neither thinking of anything beyond the moment at hand.

Spike was happy to stay there, in that shared moment forever, but as he felt their tempo increase, he heard Buffy's insistent demand in his mind, 'Now, Spike, do it now.' Again he met her eyes, and for a split second he told himself he couldn't do it. But then he saw the fear in her eyes, the plea from her eyes more persuasive then her spoken one. He began laying soft kisses on her neck, increasing the pressure there as he continued to increase their shared rhythm. He vamped out and ran one fang down the long column of her throat, leaving a small red line of blood in its wake. He then ran his tongue back up the line, the powerful taste of Slayer's blood almost sending him over the edge.

At the first sign of her orgasm, he bit down, lightly, but still hard enough so he could drink. Her cry of pain was soon masked by her cries of pleasure, as the final wave of pleasure wracked Buffy's body. Taking his fill of her blood, Spike followed her into the abyss, calling her name.

Catching his breath he looked down at her, her eyes glazed over, her heart barely beating, and he hesitated again. The sight of her, near-death, shocked his vampire visage away, the sharp and concerned planes of his human face emerging. He panicked, frantically wondering if he could still save her, if he took her to a hospital now, they could still save her. But Buffy's voice spoke one final demand in his mind, bringing any discussion to a screeching halt.

'Finish it.'

Spike took a deep unneeded breath, and reached over to a table where he kept a small dagger for emergencies. He ran the tip across the base of his neck, deep enough to bring blood, but shallow enough to not make a mess. Guiding her to the wound, she drank deep, just as he had done, and as her feeding became more intense, Spike shed his first tears at what he had done.

The vampire held his childe close, lying down with her, letting her take her fill. Once she had, they slept that way, side by side, both sated and full. One knowing her life would begin anew when she awoke; the other feeling as though his life had finally ended, that he had finally damned himself.

It had been only three hours when Buffy woke up from death, a third and final time. Spike watched her lay there, feeling out her new senses. Her face was wrinkled with ridges, her teeth had become elongated fangs, and a golden shimmer lit her eyes. This new vampire visage sought Spike out in the dark, and when their eyes met, an evil grin spread across the former Slayer's lips, making him shiver in a mix of anticipation and fear. Anticipation for what they might do together, and fear for what she might do to the world. And it was that fear that overwhelmed him when she spoke her first words as a vampire.

"Hello, lover."

Spike jumped, startling himself awake. He could almost feel his dead heart racing, but his crypt was nearly silent. He looked around, reorienting himself with realty. He was sitting in his green armchair, with his TV on in front of him, an American Flag flying on its screen while the National Anthem played quietly and an announcer said, "This concludes our broadcast day."

He took a deep shuddering sigh before the first sob wracked his body. She'd come back. She had been alive, warm, with a beating heart, and in his arms.

Loving him.

She had said it, too; that she loved him. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he pictured her, in his arms, her bright warmth surrounding him, making him feel more alive than when he actually was. She had leaned into his chest, searing his skin, and said, "I love you." He would have been thrilled if she had stopped there, but she didn't. And as he sat there, thinking of the favour she asked of him, he shuddered in revulsion.

She had been back, yes, beautiful and strong, but afraid. So she asked his help, asked him to help her live forever. And he had. Like a complete fool, thinking only with his heart, he had. And in that act he had loved more and hated more than he ever had in his entire existence. Loved her, truly and utterly with every ounce of his being. Loved her for knowing it was okay to be like him. Loved her for wanting him to be the one to do it. And hated himself for doing it. Hating himself for being that selfish. Hated himself for wanting to make her a monster, like him.

Because that one act, whether it be in a dream or reality, made him feel like a monster.

Finally, he lit a cigarette, taking a long calming drag. He told himself one last time that the whole thing was just a dream, another goddamned dream. He hadn't killed Buffy, hadn't turned her, hadn't even shagged her. She was dead. There was no changing that. With that thought circling in his brain, he turned off his TV and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"She's gone, mate," the bleached vampire said to himself, before taking a long swig from the bottle, trying to erase the dream from his memory, and the phantom taste of her blood from his mouth. "No changing that."

Buffy gasped for air, but the air that filled her lungs was stale and dry. Her hands immediately flew to her face, checking for the ridges that had marred her face in the dream. When she was sure that her face was smooth, and her teeth blunt, she sighed deeply and finally found the courage to open her eyes. Her slayer sense went into overdrive when she couldn't see anything. She raised her hands in front of her face and brushed something above her. Frantically, she felt out her surroundings only to realize where she was.

In a coffin.

Buffy's mind was racing, searching for an explanation. When it found none, it brought her back to what she had thought was a dream. 'Oh my god,' her tired vocal chords strained painfully, 'It was real…'

She lay back, pressing her hands against the wooden lid, her mind replaying for her the details of the dream. Anger built inside of her as she began to see exactly what had happened. "Spike, you bastard!" she screamed, bringing on a coughing fit that tore at her throat. Now she could see, but all she saw was Spike's face right before she would stake him, for what he had done.

Completely ignoring the fact that she had seduced him and practically begged him to do it, Buffy began to plot Spike's horrible death. "Great! I'm already out for blood…" she mumbled, desperately trying to make herself laugh through her tears in the bleak situation. She was beyond confusion and anger, beyond all comprehension of what had happened.

Wiping away a few tears, she focused on her anger, putting all of her strength in her arms, and punching forward, cracking the coffin lid. Taking in a deep breath of stale air, the petite blond dug her way out of the ground that held her.

"Final resting place my ass," she muttered once she had broken the surface. Muddy and wet, she sat at her headstone enjoying the cool night, taking deep breaths of the clean air. 'Old habits die hard,' she thought idly. She stared at her gravestone, tracing the letters with her fingers. She had died again. And it was Spike who had killed her. Buffy sighed deeply, wondering why that fact made her as sad as it did.

Then she noticed that not twenty feet away sat Spike's crypt. The first smile of her new life crept across her features. "This is going to be too much fun," she said aloud, standing up and heading towards the vampire's front door.

THE END

Part 3: Enlightened

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