Ten Years After

Chapter 12

Dawn woke in dim light, feeling stiff and uncomfortable, and it took her a moment or two to get her bearings. She was half-sitting half-lying on top of the spare bed in her hotel room, and the light came from the only one in the room that she had been unable to switch off from that position a few hours earlier. Curled against her, his head on her knee, was a sleeping vampire.

‘No,’ she corrected herself, ‘a sleeping Spike.’ Her hand was still tangled in his hair, where she had stroked him and soothed him as he had sobbed, until he had stilled and slept, but now he had reverted back to the face she knew and … knew and … and what? ‘Knew and loved’ was the usual trite phrase. It was probably what she would have said when she was fourteen or fifteen, and meant it in a certain way, but now? ‘Knew’ - just ‘knew’. Because when it came down to it, the face didn’t matter that much.

She hadn’t thought twice about holding him close and giving what comfort she could, even though in his distress he had reverted reflexively to ‘game face’. She hadn’t thought for even a fraction of a second that she was in any danger as she had held him with his fangs only millimetres from her neck. So - did she ‘know and love’ the person sharing the bed with her? ‘Not yet,’ Dawn decided, ever honest with herself, ‘but definitely know, fancy, and trust, and that’s enough for now.’

Spike lay still; even knowing that he didn’t need to breath didn’t stop Dawn watching for the rise and fall of his chest, and feeling a momentary panic when there was no such movement, then inwardly laughing at herself. Thick eyelashes covered eyes that she knew would now be blue. Creamy skin lay smoothly over those impossible cheekbones, with no trace of facial hair; but then he would probably have shaved before he’d come to meet her, and all vampire hair grew slowly. Where the fabric of his shirt was pulled against his arm by the way he lay, the outline of muscles could be seen; and where it covered his back Dawn thought perhaps she could just see the shape of his spine, but in the dim light it was hard to be sure.

‘I wonder how often Buffy sat like this and studied him sleeping?’ Dawn thought. From what she knew of their relationship she thought probably not very often, until perhaps the last few months in Sunnydale. She searched herself mentally for any twinge of jealousy, and was happily surprised that there was none, it was past; and there was an awful lot of future ahead.

The catlike pose of the figure beside her brought her thoughts back to that night at Willow’s when Scaramouch had shared her bed and she had dreamt of Spike; it seemed a lot longer than just over a couple of weeks ago. She wondered what Willow would say if she could see them now; probably jump to a wrong conclusion, Dawn thought wryly, and having jumped would probably say ‘Yay, go Dawn!’

Running her hand gently over the bleached hair beneath it Dawn thought back over what Spike had told her. She had not had an answer to his distress, she could not say whether he had saved Drusilla or damned her. After the things Drusilla had done to people she knew, or remembered, and as an employee of the Watchers’ Council, she could not feel that Spike had done something wrong, and yet she could not, would not, tell him that as comfort, because therewas no comfort in that for him. Sometime she would feel able to remind him of all the children and others he had saved; just not now. ‘Buffy must have felt like Spike does when she had to send Angel to Hell with a sword through his guts,’ she thought sadly, ‘poor Buffy, no wonder she wanted to escape all this angst, and poor Spike. He must have dreaded talking about it, but I’m glad he did.’

Increasing awareness of a full bladder and a numb leg made it impossible for Dawn to just go back to sleep, and she tried to gently extricate herself without disturbing Spike. However, as soon as she moved she could feel him stir as well. She whispered “Sshh, go back to sleep,” to him, and gently moved herself from under him, replacing her lap with a pillow, then paused and gently stroked his hair again.

Happy that he still seemed to be at rest, she moved as quietly as possible to the bathroom, and when she came back into the room he didn’t appear to have moved. She considered getting into her own bed, but thought Spike might still need the comfort of someone there when he woke, and she decided to leave the light on for the same reason. Her clothes were uncomfortable to sleep in, though, and so she eased herself out of her boots and trousers, and put on the bottom part of the pyjamas she had brought for pottering around in. Pausing to glance again at Spike, who hadn’t moved, she decided to get rid of her bra and her smart shirt, and pull on the pyjama top as well. Taking the duvet off her own bed to pull over both of them, she eased herself back beside Spike.

Almost as soon as she had nestled down, so that Spike’s head was touching her shoulder, an arm reached across her waist, and pulled her closer.

“You’re awake!” Dawn said, slightly accusingly.

“Might be,” came the answer. Then “Thanks. Thanks for being here. Thanks for not saying anything trite.” A pause. “Could go now if you want, let you sleep. ‘M alright, really.”

For the second night Dawn’s answer was simple – “Stay.” She emphasised it by holding his hand down where it touched her and turning slightly so that she could curve herself to fit against Spike better. She held herself still for a moment or two, wondering what felt odd, then realised that usually in this position she would feel the breath of her companion in her hair, or on her neck.

Spike seemed conscious of her slight stiffness, because he went as if to pull back, but Dawn’s hand was still holding his arm in place. “Really am alright now. Haven’t cried like that about it for a long time. ‘S a long time ago now, nearly seven years, but never told anyone ‘bout it before, not properly. Didn’t realise I’d go to pieces all over you, pet. But if you’re not comfortable with me here, I’ll be fine to go now, honest.”

“I’m good with you being right here,” Dawn answered. Truth to tell she had a feeling that if left alone she might have nightmares about Drusilla, and on his own so might Spike.

“You don’t feel it. You’re tense, and your pulse is too fast to be relaxed,” Spike answered bluntly.

Dawn thought about what he’d said for a minute – damned vampires and their ability to hear a heart-beat without even thinking about it – best be honest. “I was tense because I couldn’t work out what felt odd, if you must know!” she said, and before he could say anything she continued “usually if I’ve been this close to someone before I could feel their breath on my neck, or my hair, or somewhere, and it spooked me!”

There was a gentle chuckle from Spike, and then she felt a whisper of breath stir her hair, then move up until it was the softest of caresses on her earlobe, and made her smile. “Better?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Dawn answered, and felt that the atmosphere in the room had just changed imperceptibly.

In a soft voice, Spike continued “and why the fast pulse, love?”

“Why do you think? Silly vampire! It’s nearly four in the morning and I’m sharing a bed with you, and my body has a mind of its own!” Dawn answered, turning slightly more away from Spike so that they were spooned against each other, and wriggling her bottom slightly against him. “See!”

This time it was Dawn who felt Spike stiffen; in more ways than one, she realised, where her butt was in contact with his groin. Then she felt the rest of him soften, and mould to her.

They lay together quietly for a minute or two, then Dawn said “You are getting all crumpled you know – you should at least take your shoes and your shirt and trousers off.”

This time the soft breath on her neck was very obvious, before Spike answered “You do know what you’re saying, Nibblet, don’t you? I mean vampire here, strong sex drive and things, and beautiful woman in the same bed – could get carried away.”

Dawn paused for the space of a heartbeat, and then answered “Good!”

There was a low chuckle from the figure curled against her back, and then the contact was broken as he slid out of the bed. Dawn rolled onto her back and watched with interest as he shed all but his clinging underpants; she had seen this much of Spike before, but it had been ten years ago, and the underwear had been loose and not being strained by what it covered. Looked a damned sight sexier than she did, in her cotton pyjamas, she thought wryly, and then decided that this was probably a very good thing – anything less like Drusilla in her black silk gown on a bed of silk and roses would be hard to imagine.

Spike slid back under the duvet, and put an arm under Dawn’s shoulder, so that they touched along their length, side by side. She didn’t think he felt all that cold, as far as she could tell through her sensible pyjamas, just like someone coming into her bed on a cold night.

He started to blow gently on her ear again, and it made her squirm. He chuckled again and moved even closer, then very gently nibbled on the earlobe, sending a long shiver down Dawn’s back. His arm not under her shoulders now curled back over her, where it had been before, so that she was in a loose embrace, and he began to trace patterns with his fingers across her tummy and around her ribcage.

Spike laughed quietly as Dawn squirmed again, and giggled at his touch, “’S like playing with a kitten!” he said.

“I can’t help it!” she answered, slightly breathlessly, “It’s your fault! Just don’t think you can use me as a stake in poker, that’s all!

Spike laughed louder, but continued to tease her, until Dawn wrapped both arms around his neck, and pulled him towards her for what became a very satisfactory kiss.

After a minute or two Spike’s hand began to push her top up under her arms, and his fingers began to explore her breasts, trailing nails across nipples which were already alert. He broke off the kiss, giving Dawn a chance to take a deep breath, and said “Yep – definitely pointing skywards still!” He moved a little, shifting his weight, and started to push the pyjama top up further, until, meeting no objection, he pulled it up over Dawn’s head and off altogether.

Spike pushed himself up onto his elbow, letting the duvet fall until it lay across their waists, and did nothing, for long moments. Dawn thought ‘I don’t feel so much like a kitten as a grown up cat, an Egyptian one, being worshipped.’ It felt good.

Spike bent his head, and ran his tongue over first one nipple, then the other, and Dawn moaned a little, and then told him “That’s good.”

“’S the idea, love.” Spike laughed gently again.

Slowly and sensually he continued to explore and caress her from her hairline to her navel, and she did the same to him, feeling the ripple of muscles as he moved, the taste of salt on his cheeks where he had wept earlier, and the way he breathed in sharply when she nibbled on his earlobes. Every so often their explorations would bring their mouths together, and they would kiss. Dawn liked the way that Spike kept his eyes open when they kissed, and when they paused, and simply lay for a while, she told him so.

“Well so do you! ‘S obvious – even if I hadn’t looked into them – or you wouldn’t know I did!” Spike retorted.

“I know – silly! It’s just that usually if I look when I’m kissing all I see are eyelids – eyes are so much better!” She wondered if that ‘usually’ would annoy him – so many men didn’t like to think anyone had ever been there before them - but she’d told him before that she’d lost her virginity at eighteen, and it should also remind him that she wasn’t really just out of her teens. It didn’t seem to bother him, because he just held her gaze very deliberately as he brought his head closer and closer, so slowly it was like water torture, until there was mouth to mouth contact again!

There was no rush, no hurry, gentle exploration was all they were doing, but the kisses got deeper, and the breathing got more ragged, until the remaining clothes seemed an encumbrance and were shed. Again there was a pause, and Spike’s gaze again travelled the length of Dawn’s body. She returned the gaze steadily, and it occurred to her that from that first moment when she had realised Spike was awake, she had not blushed. Under this near-reverential gaze she felt nothing but desired, and comfortable.

Just as Spike’s gaze had travelled her body so did his hands, and then his mouth. When fingers and then tongue dipped between her legs and slid around her inner folds, encircling her now hard little clit, Dawn came easily, joyfully, holding nothing back.

She had been very conscious of Spike’s own arousal – it was hard to miss. Well it was hard, full stop! Her fingers had grazed his erection as he had caressed her, but it had not always been within her reach; now it was. Dawn felt the length and breadth of him with exploratory fingers, making Spike whimper slightly, then grasping him by the shoulder she eased her hips under his, and bent up her knees, so that his sliding into her became the most natural thing, and after a moment of simply lying together, feeling, they began to rock together in the age-old dance.

As Spike came he could keep his eyes open no longer, and so he did not see the fleeting look of surprise on Dawn’s face as she realised that she was going to climax again, and as he called out her name, he felt her heart beat quicken even more, and her muscles tighten around him and push him even harder over the edge of sensation.

Satiated, they lay in a tangle of limbs, until Spike stirred and pulled the duvet back to cover both of them. He stroked Dawn’s hair gently, as she had his earlier, and murmured endearments in her ear until he felt her body relax and her breathing and pulse slow into sleep.


In the dim light Spike lay awake and considered for the second night in a row whether he felt guilty about having had sex with someone. For the second night he decided that he didn’t, but the reasoning was very different.

With Yvette, and with a series of other earlier ‘Yvettes’, there was no guilt because there were no feelings, it was just payment for food. A bartering system, he thought with amusement; like digging someone’s garden in exchange for dinner, just giving her a service that he could perform well – and enjoyed, which is more than could be said about digging gardens!

He thought about his worries the night before about physical involvement with Dawn. They seemed a long way away and pretty irrelevant now – she definitely hadn’t been upset at Spike having carnal thoughts about her! If his future role was to be there for this seeming chit of a girl, for ever, then a sexual dimension to the love he felt was not going to be a problem.

‘Hang on there Spike,’ he thought, ‘love?’ He considered for a while. Love. He’d always loved her in a way, little Bit struggling through life in the Slayer’s shadow, sometimes seen as more of a hindrance than a help. Spike had known how that had felt, and there had been love in the way he cared about her then, not the burning incandescent emotion he had felt for her sister but love even so.

He still loved her, almost in the old protective way, but he knew suddenly that he was capable of loving her with at least as much devotion as he had loved Drusilla or Buffy. Just like Dawn, the relationship had grown up. ‘So what would you do for this one?’ he thought wryly. ‘You’ve had two big loves in your life – one you were willing to die for, and one you were willing to kill! Stupid Bloody Vampire! Stupid Bloody Poet! Always making the Grand Gesture!’

He looked again at the sleeping figure, and thought of their lovemaking. ‘Well that’s different for a start. S’pose with Dru it was love making, in its way, but she had learnt such strange devotion from Angelus; only equating love with pain, poor little bint.’ He thought again of that silk covered bed, the roses, their thorns, the blood.

‘Buffy, I would have worshipped the ground she walked on, I would have kissed every inch of her body, watched over her as she slept, but for so long all she wanted was pain as well – just more mine than hers,’ he thought again sadly.

Ilona didn’t count; they didn’t really make love so much as have mutually enjoyable sex, in the same way as they went to mutually enjoyable concerts and mutually enjoyable nightclubs, or discussed art or books on occasions. (Letting the inner William have an outing now and again, once Ilona discovered that he was better read than she would have expected.)

But with Dawn it had been lovemaking, mutual, consensual, easy and enjoyable. No, he felt no guilt at all, and he hoped that she didn’t. Thinking back to his earlier question of himself, he suddenly realised that perhaps the answer to ‘So what would you do for this one?’ was ‘Live for her.’

Dawn moved slightly in her sleep, and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. Spike thought of all she had told him of her life at university, then working for the Watchers’ Council. She travelled alone, she had her own flat, and she was an independent young woman. He realised that ‘living for her’ would depend on what Dawn wanted. ‘Modern young woman might value her independence – how would I cope with that?’ He felt Dawn stir against him, and heard her breathing change as she woke.


Dawn woke and knew in an instant where she was; held against Spike’s body warmed by her body heat. She lay still, her eyes still closed, and savoured the sensations. ‘I wonder if Spike regrets that?’ she thought. ‘Probably not! If he does I’ll just have to sweet-talk him!’

After she’d lain there quietly for five minutes Spike’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Morning, pet, you OK?”

“How did you know I was awake? Oh yeah – vampire senses and all that – I guess,” she answered. “And yes, of course I’m OK – I’m very OK, how about you?”

“Good, very good. Just something I want you to know, though.” He sounded serious.

‘Oh bugger,’ thought Dawn, ‘he’s going to do the I-shouldn’t-have-done-that speech.’

“Just want you to know, that that was all about you, love. Not about anyone else, not about Drusilla, or anyone. That was all about you. You are beautiful, and you are sexy, and I wanted to make love to you – wasn’t ’cos I felt guilty, or ’cos I was thinking about anyone else. Wouldn’t want you to think anything like that.”

‘Hallelujah!’ Dawn thought – not a guilt trip speech after all. She wriggled even closer, and started to do to Spike what he had done to her earlier, drawing patterns on his chest and abdomen with her finger nails, looping down towards his cock, which was twitching in a very satisfying way. “Well, it’s a bit early for breakfast, and too close to daylight for you to go home …” she said, “We could try again, and this time make it all about you.”


  • Chapter 13

  • The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only and all rights remain with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the writers of the original episodes, and the TV and production companies responsible for the original television shows. BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER ©2002 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All Rights Reserved. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer trademark is used without express permission from Fox.