"A spirit like mine
Was forged from fire
A spirit like mine
Will burn on forever
And will never tire
A spirit like mine
Was not meant
For wallowing in the mire
A spirit like mine
Was born to aim higher" By: Unkown


Joyce:

I felt the scream even before it escaped me, my throat hoarse from the hours spent yelling earlier. The hands that held mine tensed, my husband, Hank. He hadn't left my side the entire time and I sent him a reassuring smile as he looked down at me in concern, his brows knitting together in worry. He knew how much pain I was in but there was nothing that could be done about it. There was no amount of numbing herbs or potions we could make that would stop the ache that was tearing through my womb. Sweat was dropping from my forehead onto my chest, my body hot, muscles strained. I only heard the reassuring voices from my husband as he told me to push one more time as the midwife working at my center awaited for the birth of my son. I tried to continue breathing through my contraction but couldn't help but hold my breath, panting as I squeezed my husbands hands in a death-like grip which I knew would leave a bad bruise if not crush a few bones. I couldn't help it. Strength was in my blood.

I let out another yell and then there was a rush from my center and I fell back onto the bed panting. He was out. I'd just given birth to my son. I gave a relieved laugh and then stopped. Everything was silent. Too silent. I tried to see over the swell of my stomach as the midwife worked on my son but I couldn't see anything.

My heart stopped. No, he was fine. Everything was going to be fine. It had to be. I felt my heart lurch and stomach drop, tears filling my eyes.

There was a hiccup and then a high-pitched wail pierced the silence and my heart raced a million miles an hour. The tears that had been forming dropped onto my sweaty cheeks and I closed my eyes falling back onto the pillows behind me once again. I was exhausted. Nearly twenty-two hours of labor. I was definitely not doing that again and Hank would be lucky if he was ever allowed in between my legs again.

"You're amazing. I love you so much, Joyce." His voice was shaky in my ear but held so much love in his words that I knew I could never deny him anything. Lips brushed my temple as he detached his stiff hand from my grasp and moved to take our son from the smiling midwife.

"How is he?"

"It's a girl. You have a healthy little girl." The midwife placed a wrap around our baby and placed her in my Hank's arms.

A daughter? No.

"W-what? Hank, she-"

It was supposed to be a boy.

No!

My heart sank, my tears falling freely. I knew what it was like being a woman with a certain special ancestry. My blood was special, only special to the females who carried it. To some it had brought light and strength in dark times but I only saw it as a curse. I had been running my whole life and watched as it destroyed my family. My whole bloodline was gone.

My daughter was going to grow up into a world she would always be afraid of. Never being able to truly be herself. She would always be running.

"Everything will be fine."

"She'll be hunted, Hank. I never wanted this for our child. M-my family- I'm so sorry."

He came to sit next to me and cooed down at the small pink bundle in his arms. Our daughter wrapped her tiny fists around the finger he offered her and he sent me the most wonderful smile that held my gaze, unmoving.

"Never be sorry." His whispered words were in awe of the life we had created. He placed our daughter on my chest and for the first time I found myself speechless.

My fingers ghosted across her soft round cheeks, her lips were so small as she pouted in protest from having been ripped from the warmth of her cocoon for the last 9 months. She had barely any hair, her eyebrows faint but noticeable as she frowned. As if she knew that I was staring her tiny eyes opened to reveal a bright set of green eyes. Hank's eyes.

There was no denying who her father was. My heart skipped a beat as I took in a deep and shaky breath.

"She is so beautiful."

Those tiny green eyes fluttered closed when Hank ran a hand over the smooth expanse of her head.

"We made her."

"We did." I couldn't help but grin at the memory that statement invoked. Leaning up I captured my gorgeous husband's lips with mine before both of our gazes fixed on our daughter again.

I had taken so many risks in deciding to have a child. I'd even gone as far as finding a witch to produce that disgusting cocktail I had had to drink for two months to ensure the pregnancy would result in a boy. I'd tried herbs and pastes in my foods, Hank had even tried a spell. He dabbled in the arts you see. He wasn't exactly the most amazing witch- er warlock but he did try. I unconsciously tucked the hair around my ear, the side of my face still stung from the backlash of that particular spell gone wrong. I had a burn mark on my cheek barely the size of a plum but that had stopped him practicing around me ever again.

Staring down at the innocent babe that lay nestled into my chest I sent a silent vow above then and there that I would I do all that was capable in my powers to keep our child safe.

My daughter would not suffer the same fate that I and my mother and her mother's family before me suffered.

"She needs a name." Hank spoke, brows furrowing as he tried to think of one.

I hmm'd for a few moments, all the names that we had thought of had been boys names and there was no way in hell my daughter was going to be called Walter.

There was silence for a few moments and it took me a second to realize the midwife had left. It wasn't safe to linger anywhere at night. I looked back to my sleeping daughter and traced her round chubby cheek.

"Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth." Hank whispered in echo, smiling his agreement. "A very special name for a very special little girl."

She was special.

Special was in her blood.

................................

Buffy

18 years later

At first she heard nothing but the thundering sound of her own heartbeat as it pounded rapidly in her chest, the sounds of growling and yelling breaking through the fog as she struggled to stay upright. She lost her footing on the stone steps and tumbled, hitting the ground with a thud.

This is not my day

Granted this was not her last few years. The Fates had screwed her big time on this one and there was no way she was letting them control her life. No sir. She was running.

...Again.

"FIND HER!"

Eyes widened as the thundering voice of her captor ripped through the castle walls. He was pissed. She wiped the tangled mass of hair from her face with shaking hands and noticing for the first time the blood that covered them.

When had that happened? Was that mine?

Footsteps sounded down the hall from where she had just run and with a rush of movement and no further thoughts to her bloodied hands, lifted her skirts, pulled herself up and ran.

There was no way she was getting caught again.

No sir, not this time.

Taking down the two men outside the servants' quarters door was easy, thanks to the new found power running through her veins of course. She'd known this day was coming. Had known what to expect but never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would be like this. If she concentrated hard enough she could even feel the blood rushing to isolated muscles before she punched. Her strength was incredible and was ultimately what had helped her escape.

She was stronger, faster- squinting through the fog that covered the field and towards the stables she grinned- her sight was better too. Her father's words whispered to her in the darkness. "Never rush into a situation hot-headed."

Buffy let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the stables unguarded.

"She can't have gotten very far. Sun's going to be up soon. This way..."

The guards were getting closer and she couldn't risk lingering to scout any longer. Pushing off from the wall Buffy burst into the open field and cut through the fog like a breeze itself.

This 'chosen' thing was kinda neat.

She had been smart this time, thought ahead. There was no way she was getting caught again.There were severe consequences for running away.

Which of course I'd learned the hard way.

The first time she had barely made it to the edge of the property before being brought back. Her punishment, after threatening her 'beast' of a captor, had been a knife cut to the face, not life-threateningly deep but deep enough to leave a scar from her cheek to lip.

"Now you're a beast just like me."

His words had kept her frozen in shock for a week after that, her face taking months to heal.

The second time had been worse.

She knew what he was, what half of his house guard consisted of but it never ceased to make her stop trying. Call her stubborn or hot-headed but she would not be bound by the prophecy the Fates had laid out before her.

I control my life, not them or any beast.

She had escaped from her room in the middle of the day, the bindings on her wrists just loose enough to slip her hands out of her shackles. It was a better attempt, making it two towns over before her captor's head daylight 'human' guard had found her.

Riley.

Sometimes I think he's worse than the beast himself.

Riley was the beast's right-hand man who liked delivering pain to others. There where things she would never forget and one of them was how much Riley enjoyed inflicting pain. It still made her shudder with unease. Riley knew that she was off-limits to even Angelus. Angelus was very particular who his minions and guards were allowed to touch. She was thankful that even she was off limits to Angelus, Drusilla making it clear she not to be touched sexually until after her 'becoming' when the prophecy said she was to supposedly breed with the beast and bear him a child.

Not like it would actually work. Vampires couldn't father children. Duh.

Riley had given her 10 lashes across the back for running.

The third time she ran, after knocking out the guard who had come to remove her shackles from the wall and tie her to the bed she was kept on at night, and was once again brought back, she had wished for death. Lashes again, except the wounds on her back still hadn't fully recovered from the first round.

She should have learnt by now.

But what can you say. I am stubborn.

She knew this would be the last time. Her last chance.

He would not leave her so carelessly shackled in her room alone and unguarded again. No. She would be in the cells beneath the castle, dark, wet and cold. Never knowing just how much time had past, never knowing if today was her last day. Just like it was at the beginning.

He was a beast, a creature with a lust for blood and torment and she knew the cut to his side and the kick she had delivered to his groin wouldn't keep him down for long. He would come after her and now that he knew her time had come, there was no telling what he was willing to do, or the lengths he was willing to go to to recapture her.

She slid inside the stables quietly, the snorting of the horses were getting louder as she moved about and she knew it wasn't safe to linger any longer. Picking a horse, snorting, its eyes wide, she quickly grabbed a bridle and saddle off the wall. Her hands shaky, she fumbled for a few seconds and finally managed to tackle the horse up.

Men were shouting outside, footsteps crunching in the pebbles and dirt as they made their way closer. Closing her eyes for the barest of seconds she sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening to help make it out of this hell in one piece.

"Come on girl."

Digging her heels into the horse's side she let out a shout. The horse reared up and charged off into the morning light where the beast dared not follow.

She spent the first few hours in a panic, petrified that her captor was hot on her trail. Hours running turned into days, the days turning into weeks and it wasn't soon before nearly two weeks had passed. Always on the move, covering the most distance under the cover of darkness that night offered. It wasn't safe to stay static.

He was always watching, his spies everywhere.

Liam Angelus was a name that brought fear into the eyes of the bravest of men. When she was a little girl she had thought he was only a story that parents told their children to scare them. But she wasn't a little girl anymore. No, thanks to Liam Angelus she had grown up pretty quickly.

I knew what he truly was.

A vampire.

The bedtime story that her parents had told her night after night for as long as she could remember of the two vampire covens fighting a war against each other and her kind, the chosen ones, for a millennium turned out to be real.

A tiny scrap of a child at the tender age of nine years old was when she had first laid eyes on the feared master vampire. She was in town with her parents buying food and supplies when her father had whispered quite fearfully for her to run and hide. She remember holding onto the posts of a wooden carts legs and watching as he rushed to her mother's side. Night had fallen less than half an hour earlier and if you looked hard enough from the hill where the market sat you could make out the barest sliver of light in the distance as the sun set. The market place was closing as it did early and only the cart owners remained, packing up their belongings before rushing home to their families and out of the darkness.

When darkness overcame the town an air of trepidation and fear always seemed to surround her and her family.

I had never understood why until that day.

"What a pretty little lass." His voice had sent shivers down her back from where she was hidden under the cart, his accent thick as his eyes leered at her mother. "Your name?"

Her father; she would never forget the look her father gave her mother, tried to push her forward and away from the beast but the tight grip Angelus had around her wrist was unrelenting and the men surrounding them stopped their moving forward.

"Your name..." His grip must have tightened because her mother let out a startled yelp and name all at once making her jump from under the cart.

"Joyce!"

Angelus's free hand ran through her mothers hair and down her cheek.

"Such a pretty wee thing."

"She makes such sweet little dollies. Ripe for the picking. Is has pulsatus. Electus is est. Can we keep her?"

She stayed hidden under the carts cover as a woman's black skirts swished passed by. The woman seemed to lose herself as she spoke the strange words before switching to a childlike manner and voice.

"She's been touched. Chosen she is."

Those words would be stuck with me for the rest of my life.

At the time of course she didn't understand what they meant and how much they would play a pivotal role in her upbringing. As far as she was concerned she was the daughter of two local farmers whose parents taught her archery at the young age of five for sport.

Upon witnessing the frightened look that crossed both of her parents faces she knew that what the dark-haired woman had said was not good.

Angelus had stared a few moments more at her mother before meeting her fathers glaring green eyes and letting out a grin. Raising an eyebrow he smirked at the dark-haired woman and let her mothers wrist go before turning, sliding his hand around the woman's waist and walking off into the night.

Her parents stood whispering in the markets empty lanes for minutes watching Angelus retreat before they rushed over to her and whisked her off straight home.

Angelus came for her mother just after dark not even two full days later. She had been in the stables practicing her archery like her parents had told her she must every night, at least that's what they thought she did. When they didn't stand watch on her nightly practices she was playing with the horses they kept. Rolling under the hay stacks and poking her head from underneath bundles of straw, giggling when the horses would sniff her out and nibble on her tangled blonde locks. Her mothers hair and her fathers eyes, that's what everyone said she looked like.

She was doing as such when the yelling had started.

"You cannot just take her!"

"Oh but I can and if you have any sense you'll stay quiet or your insignificant life will cease to continue!"

It was the accented man again. Angelus.

"Hank..."

Heart racing a mile a minute she crawled towards the stable doors, petrified at seeing all the men that surrounded her parents. Pushing the stable doors open her face cringing at the creek the door made and cursing herself for not putting oil on it the day before like her father had asked her to. She almost let out a startled yelp, heart skipping a beat when Barnaby, her father's horse nudged her in the back.

"Joyce run!"

Before her mother had a chance to move Angelus punched her father in the face, knocking him to the ground barely conscious. Elizabeth stifled the shout that was about to let loose using her hands to firmly clasped over her mouth. Three men surrounded her mother and grabbed her arms, pinning them to her body and doing their best to restrain her. She broke free or course, her mother was super strong like that. Grabbing a weapon from one of the mens belts Elizabeth watched on in shock and fear as her mother thrust something into one mans chest and he just disintegrated into a cloud of dust. A second man delivered a blow to her mothers stomach knocking her to the ground and Barnaby snorted at the noise.

"Joyce!"

Angelus spat at her fathers face where he lay on the ground and walked towards her mothers crumpled body as she too lay on the ground.

"You better learn quickly who your new master is girl. You are mine now."

Her mother, ever the fire cracker, spat in his face, eyes narrowed. She was injured and Elizabeth knew because she struggled to stand. Still, she growled out her words.

"I'll never be yours. I'll die first."

"We shall see. Take her away."

"Joyce, no!..." A groan came from her crumpled father and Elizabeth couldn't stop the tears that formed in her eyes with fear of what was to come. The hands covering her mouth shook as she struggled to contain a scream.

"No!"

The last vision Elizabeth would ever have of her mother was blurred with tears as Angelus bound her hands together and placed a sack over her head before swinging her onto his horse, nodding to one of his men to stay behind as the rest of them rode off into the night.

She didn't remember much of what had happened next because she was blind with rage. The man left behind to kill her father had started kicking him with all of his body weight behind each blow, Hank struggling to rise.

She didn't remember reaching for her bow or her quiver; the satchel she kept her arrows in as she ran from the barn, bow and arrow in hand, screaming.

"What th- You're next little girl. Can't leave anyone behind."

One arrow released in a matter of seconds and she grinned when it hit it's mark and buried itself in his gut. A wound which any normal man would have fallen down at, except this wasn't any normal man. He span and her heart stopped. The face that met her had not been the one she had just glimpsed moments before. He growled, eyes yellow and feral as he rushed towards her.

"The h-heart." Her father fell to the ground and she shakily grabbed for another arrow, aimed and fired. He crumbled into dust in front of her wide and terrified green eyes and only afterwards did she let herself crumble.

"E-Elizabeth."

"Father... mother she. What was that man? Mother.... sh-"

"Vampires...."

....................................................

Things were never the same after that.

I was never the same.

Running, they were always running. Her father and her had adopted different names, it wasn't safe to be Hank and Elizabeth anymore. No, now it was Henry and Buffy.

Not exactly the names she would have chosen but they had been funny to her mother at one point in time. It helped them remember.

The nights were getting colder now and it was getting harder and harder to survive off-road. There had been a few towns that had offered her refuge in the way of abandoned buildings in the lower class parts of towns where no one paid any mind to you or your business. It suited Buffy just fine. Anything to escape the bitter winter air that made sleeping out-doors unbearable.

With the cold nights brought along more sleepless nights. It was futile. Every step she took away from her captors had her chest tightening and her scars burning. She couldn't afford to be afraid of the dark but every night when her eyes closed her heart raced. She was plagued by nightmares, memories, haunted by images of what had happened and what could still happen. Fear was Buffy's worst nightmare and had become a constant cloud surrounding her every move. Letting out an involuntary shudder she placed a hand on the most recent scar she had been left with.

It burned red-hot.

The bite mark on her hip brought tears to her eyes. Buffy knew that her back was ripped to shreds, she could feel the bumps and rises of the old scars of her healed skin but the thing that made her cry at night was the fact that her most recent scars were in her direct sight. Forever marked.

Without fail every night the burning would get worse, sweat would break out on her forehead and she would feel the tug and tightening in her chest as she felt something trying to pull her back into the void. Every night she struggled, knowing that when daylight came the pain would become a dull ache but never seeming to stop completely.

The further she ran the stronger the pain got.

Still she never stopped.

It wasn't safe.

Angelus was no doubt hot on her heels, Riley leading the hunt during the day.

Head down, cloak up always.

Angelus had had her for how long exactly Buffy wasn't quite sure. She was kept indoors mostly, locked away in a cell beneath the castle in a pitch black wet and cold room before being moved upstairs to a windowless room not far from his own.

He watched her always, sending shivers down her spine when she pretended to be asleep. He taunted her with wicked words, telling her of what was in store for her when the time was right. Buffy knew she was to be his new play thing.

Like her mother before her.

When I became what my birthright said I would become.

And become she had.

A chosen one.

Which meant that nearly two years had passed since Angelus had taken her.

She shuddered at the thought.

"You and I are going to create something great together."

All for a prophecy.

Staring at the sky above she sent a silent curse their way.

Angelus always touched her, pinching, stroking and running his hand suggestively over her body but never invading. His vampire mate Drusilla, the dark-haired woman who had been at the market place that day was insane. Literally. Buffy, petrified of her as she was, was almost thankful for it some days. She was always screaming and rambling on in her childlike voice about Buffy's purity and that she must not be broken in until after the becoming. Buffy was thankful for her insane words but that didn't stop her heart from racing or the screams she would let loose until her throat was too sore to make a sound anymore.

That's when the torture came.

The biting, the cutting. She squeezed her eyes shut at the memory.

Seeing Angelus's yellow eyed feral beast break forward in a flash never ceased to make Buffy's heart race in a panicked frenzy.

After being betrayed by a friend of her fathers who had given them refuge at a time when they had needed it most she was captured. Angelus had spent weeks tormenting her, painting images of what he had done to her mother before killing her while she was left to wallow in the dark cold wet of the prison cell.

Buffy had seen him feed on helpless women, watched on as he and his insane mate Drusilla fucked in the blood of their meal as it lay strewn across the floor while she stood, swaying in her starved and weak state, shackled to the wall.

Never again.

It had taken Buffy near on nine days to make it to the last place she had ever seen her father. Dusk had only just set in when she arrived and what she found pushed her to tears. The house they had called home for months was in ruin, ash and rubble littered the ground. Sifting through the mess Buffy knew by the stages of decaying wood and debris that the house had lain this way for a long time. Her fathers whereabouts or existence was unknown.

Vampires.

The growl that escaped Buffy's lips as she walked was deep. She had vowed a long time ago to kill Angelus for what he had done to her mother and if harm were to ever come to her father, his death would be a slow and painful one.

She needed a plan and she needed help.

One way or another she would have justice and revenge.

That's why she was heading east. To find him.

After her mother had been taken her father, and she traveled around the countryside searching for answers. Searching for help. It was futile. No one dared fight the beasts that plagued the night, but Buffy had come to realized just how connected her father was. He had powerful friends and the one who had the most power was a man by the name of Rupert Giles. Buffy hadn't exactly met the man himself or seen his power in action, but her father had told her many years ago about the part Rupert had played in the vampires war when it had spilled into his lands and destroyed his home and family, wife and child included.

She needed help and Rupert Giles was the man she would need if she where to ever stand a chance at trying to kill Angelus and Drusilla.

A brush of cold air whipped across Buffy's face, breaking her from her musings with another shiver, goosebumps rising up her arms and back. The cloak she wore was folded tighter around herself. It was getting unbearably colder now. The nights lasting longer, the chill and dampness in the air seemed to always cling to her.

God I hate winter.

Buffy's parents had taught her many skills starting from when she was only five years old. Things that a young child shouldn't know. She knew how to survive on her own, not something a lady should know, but with only a father to raise her at the impressionable age of nine she knew many things women should not. She knew how to track and hunt down her prey, knew how to fight with a blade and was quite proficient in hand to hand combat and also had some skill in archery. Buffy had never questioned learning the skills at a young age as it always seemed like a new fun game to play, but it wasn't until Drusilla had spoken those words in the marketplace that her mother had sat her down and explained what they actually meant..

Things seemed to become a lot more serious after that.

"Pulsatus and Electus mean touched and chosen, it's what I am, what we are. There's something special in our blood sweetheart, it makes us different. There are things in this world that mean us great harm and it's my-our job to get rid of them. To keep precious little girls like you safe."

"Am I Pul-tatoes too?"

"Pulsatus."

Buffy would never forget the sound of her fathers chuckle at her mispronunciation. He had the warmest laugh. The kind of laugh that tickled at the edges of your eyes and just made you melt and feel safe. That was home to her.

"Y-you have my blood running in your veins so it's most likely that you are. We won't know for a few years yet, it will happen when you're eighteen. You will feel such power rush through you, breathe and smell things you've never smelt before. You will be able to hear and run better, aim and fight stronger."

"And if I'm not pul-satus."

"That won't make you any less special."

"There are bad things in this world Elizabeth and it is our job as your parents to make sure that you are capable of fighting them."

A smack to the shoulder broke Buffy from her thoughts, glancing up into the figure of the owner her stomach dropped.

Riley.

Shit!

He didn't seem to notice her at first, just kept walking, eyes fixed on his men in the distance. Buffy wasn't taking any chances. Her pace quickened, pushing and rushing through the crowd of the towns square and ducking down a side alleyway. If she could just make it back into the woods and undercover.

Shit..... Shit, shit shit!

A shadow blocked her exit and when she made an abrupt about-face and turned to rush back the way she had just come she found herself surrounded and once again taken captive.

Great. Just great!

So here she was, two days later tied to a tree freezing her ass off as Riley and his stupid soldiers sat around a nice warm fire not too far from away from her. Close enough to see her, but not enough to warm her.

Assholes.

They were taking her back to Angelus.

A growl and grumble left Buffy as she swung her gaze back around.

They could try.

Like hell she was ever going back there!

They had stripped her of her weapons and taken the bow and arrows sheathed in her quiver, the one her mother had handmade when she was nine as well as the hidden blades she kept tucked into her coat. When Riley's hands had lingered too long at Buffy's crutch during the search she had spat in his face.

Not the smartest of moves I'll admit. I got a punch in the gut for that one. Don't worry though, I managed to get in a few punches of my own before Riley delivered a blow to the back of my head knocking me out.

The rustling in the trees is what had woken Buffy from another restless dream, her bite mark burning. Staring out into the woods she saw nothing but blackness. Something was out there, the hairs on her arms standing on edge, neck tingling with an unknown presence lingering beyond her sight.

The men had been thorough in their search for weapons and had taken all but one. Casting a hesitant glance back around the tree to which she was bound Buffy saw her captors sleeping near the warm fire they had lit, only one guard stood watch.

Typical.

She thought with a roll of her eyes. Teeth chattering, fingers numb and cold as ice to the touch it was quite a struggle for Buffy to reach into her left boot where she had hidden a small blade. With a triumphant grin moments later she pulled it free.

There was another rustle in the darkness making her heart race. Breath quickening she began to work at her restraints, muffling a cry of pain when she felt a prick in her palm and a sting rush through its center before the blade become warm and slick with blood. Another scar to add to her body. Buffy was a little more hesitant after that.

The rustling continued and her heart raced faster.

Something was coming and she planned on being long gone before it arrived.

Finally free of her restraints Buffy cast a furtive gaze around the tree. The guard on watch was staring across the woods, eyes narrowed, hand on the sword at his side. Buffy scanned the camp grounds and after a few moments of searching located her weapons discarded, she frowned, 'willy nilly' as her father liked to say at the haphazardly discarded manner in which they had been thrown on the ground near the fire. They would prove difficult to reach with three more guards sleeping not five feet away.

But not impossible.

With lips pressed tightly together she plotted. The guard on watch would be the first to take down. Steal his sword and kill the three other guards near the fire and grab the rest of her weapons to then kill Riley. Yes Riley was the first on Buffy's hit list.

She made it about four feet before a sharp prick in her back halted any further movements. The blade cut through the leather of her top and the trickle of warm blood dripping down her spine had her frozen, heart clenched.

Buffy took a sharp intake of breath and her stomach dropped.

"And where do you think you're going?

Tense and straight she raised her arms into the air in defeat, eyes scanning the now silent woods.

"Stretching my legs." Buffy peered over her shoulder at him. "Being tied to that tree for the last four hours freezing my ass off has done hell on my legs and not to mention my back."

She spoke softly, trying to edge forwards. Just a few more steps and she would be within reach of her weapons. The other guards were all awake now, alert and watching on in interest.

"Ah ah ah." Riley slashed down with his sword and the scream that escaped Buffy's lips had sleeping birds scattering from their nests with a flutter of wings and squawks. She didn't need to see her back to know that there was now a huge slice in it.

Couldn't just stay quite could you. Had to open your big mouth.

"We can't have that now, can we. He's been looking for you for a very long time." Riley laughed watching as she fell to the ground with a gasp, eyes tearing as she struggled to crawl forward on the ground. The other guards standing watch and smiling. "You're his favorite you know." He nodded to his men who came to flank Buffy on either side, pinning her face down on the dirt, back open and bleeding for Riley's viewing.

No! Please no!

Riley motioned for his men to pick her up into a standing position, arms outstretched as he pulled at the whip attached to his belt. The fear in her eyes made him grin, but she couldn't help it, her back was on fire and she could already feel herself becoming weak from blood loss. Riley smirked watching her struggle before he lashed out, whip cracking down on Buffy's back.

She told herself not to scream, but again another yell broke from her lips with a hoarse and pain filled cry. Body betraying mind. Tears spilled from Buffy's eyes profusely hearing Riley moan as he delivered another blow to her back. Riley loved pain just a little too much.

No amount of telling herself that she was stronger, better, to stop crying and that she had power and strength on her side now could pull her from feeling like that scared and alone child sitting in the dark dungeon she was in at the beginning.

"Your mother isn't dead you know." Buffy could hear the smirk in his voice as her breath stopped. "Angelus turned her, she's just like him now. A creature of the night."

Buffy went weak in his men's arms, unbelieving and not being able to stop the sob that escaped her lips. He laughed and all of a sudden her anger was back, struggling to pull her arms free from his men's grip. He was lying. He had to be.

"Y-you're lying!"

"You've been running for far too long. It's made you weak." He spat on the ground and Buffy tensed waiting for his next blow when a voice she had never heard before broke through her panicked and pain filled silence.

"Now tha's no way to treat a lady Finn."

"You! Kill him!"

Riley had sounded surprised and a little scared.

No that couldn't be right. Could it?

The arms that were holding Buffy up let go and she fell to the ground with a thud, hearing a few animalistic growls and seeing a flash of fur and a streak of white before she blacked out.

A scream tore through Buffy's lips as something cold and wet was poured onto her back seeming to light it on fire. Her head aching as she struggled to rise.

"Keep her still!"

All of a sudden there were numerous sets of hands upon her, roughly grabbing arms and legs, pinning her to the soft mattress to which she seemed to be lying on as a voice she didn't recognize yelled out commands. Again, the cold wet liquid was poured onto her back. Screaming, Buffy managed to pull an arm free knocking the voices owner back. Twisting her body against her other captors she felt herself being slammed back down against the mattress by a firm and warm grip.

"It's easier if you don't move."

Buffy let out a growl as the other hands resumed to hold her in place. The voices that murmured behind her she didn't recognize. Definitely not Riley's men. Who the hell were these people? Eyes struggling to stay open through the pain of her scorching back she surveyed the room. It was plain, containing only the bed she lay on and a small hutch and chest of drawers in the corner where bottles and vials covered the top. She let out a hiss as the hands that worked at her back began to paste on another thicker liquid, almost seeming to instantly numb the pain. Just like magic.

"Wha-" Taking a few needed deep breaths as the hands firmly holding her in place lessened their firm grips, she spoke louder. "What happened? Who are you people?"

"Lift her up for just a moment please."

"What are you- Ow!" Hands grabbed Buffy under the arms and lifted her up, pulling the taught damaged skin of her back. The woman who had obviously been working on her back wrapped a bandage around her naked torso.

Oh my god I'm half naked!

Giving her hips and legs a slight wriggle Buffy let out an internal sigh of relief at feeling the material of her pants still around her hips.

"You shouldn't feel much for the next couples of hours. Numb-y goodness here you come." There was a nervous chuckle from behind her. "I-it only lasts for a while so it'll need to be applied again. You can sit up if you like."

Too many thoughts were rushing through Buffy's head as the woman behind her spoke. She tried to sit up and instantly brought a hand to her head at the dizzy spell that seemed to rush out of nowhere. The room was spinning as Buffy squinted and struggled to put the pieces of her last moments together.

Being captured.

Freezing my ass off in the woods.

Trying to escape.

Riley.

My mother.

Darkness.

"She's just like him now. A creature of the night."

"Where's Riley?"

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration she tried to sit up again, the twisting motion pulling on her damaged back. With a few panting and slow movements Buffy finally managed to turn in the bed and sit up.

There was no truth to Riley's words. He was lying. If not, why wait all this time to tell me. Why now?

"T-The one that did this to you?"

Meeting the stammering voices owner Buffy was surprised by what she saw. A woman no older than thirty stood to her side. She was covered in an apron that was smeared with blood which was obviously not her own. Buffy grimaced slightly at the sight. Her hair was brown and tied in a loose bun, hair falling loose and wild and covered in sweat from the exertion of trying to hold Buffy still. She wasn't overly plump, but did have a very womanly figure, one which she almost envied her for, being so thin herself.

Still her voice was soft and eyes warm. She didn't look threatening.

"Yes..."

Buffy hated her back. It was a constant reminder of what had been taken from her and what that place had brought her to.

"He's the one that gave you the others?"

The voice from earlier spoke, belonging to a tall thing redhead who, when she finally gathered her bloodied materials and met Buffy's eyes, knew was the woman who had been working on her back. She too also wore an apron which was tied around a very pregnant waist and also covered in her blood.

"S-some yes."

Buffy played with the folds of the bandage wrapped around her torso, back warm and aching, the pain now dull. Lost in her thoughts she almost missed who spoke.

"Spike will want to know she's awake."

Who the hell is Spike?

Buffy's heart began to race, the erratic pace making her stomach tie in knots. These people had rescued her, patched her up and mended her wounds. They were good people. Who would they subject her to now? She couldn't stop her eyes from widening and body jumping in fright when the red-headed woman yelled at the short red-haired man who had spoken.

"She's barely sitting!"

The man was small, but something about him sent a shiver down Buffy's arms raising the hairs, neck tingling in a way she hadn't felt before. He was different from the others. He emitted power and by the strength he had possessed to push her back down into the mattress and hold her down with all the new-found power running through her veins she knew that he wasn't entirely human. He wasn't a vampire, they were as cold as ice to the touch.

What was he?

He noticed her staring and met her gaze, almost daring her to break eye contact first but the redheads pregnant belly blocked her view as hands were raised to her hips, lips set firm daring him to challenge her.

"You know as well as I what his orders were."

The man spoke slowly and tersely making the redhead pause and sigh in defeat. Buffy watched on nervously as he left the room. Whoever Spike was he was obviously the man in charge and she wasn't sure if she should fear him or thank him.

"I'm Tara and that's Willow." The curvaceous woman helped Buffy sit up properly and placed a few large pillows behind her, apologizing at seeing the discomfort on her face from her back leaning against anything.

Buffy hissed out her name and managed to meet Tara's smile with a terse one of her own.

"I'm sorry about the excruciating pain, but it was necessary to clean your uh, sword wound." Willow, the redhead made a swishing down movement with her hands in imitation of a blade slicing down and Buffy raised an eyebrow in response. Willow walked to the hutch where the vials and bottles were and picked up a bowl, walking back over to place it in Buffy's hands. "It's soup with a little extra kick to help you sleep."

Staring at the sloshing liquid in front of her Buffy was hesitant to accept the woman's offered meal.

"It'll help with the p-pain." Tara stuttered, offering a sweet smile.

"The pain-" Buffy lift the soup towards her lips, sniffing at it a few times before meeting both women's gazes. "Nothing I haven't felt before b-but thank you." Smelling nothing other than the sweet aroma of chicken broth she took a big gulp of the soup.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the two women shuffled about the room, cleaning up the materials they had used to fix her.

"Where am I?" Of course Buffy was met with silence, neither women dared to speak.

Let's try that again.

"What happened?"

There was a thumping of boots meeting wooden floors down the hallway, someone obviously coming up a set of stairs and then the door to the room was thrust open and a man entered.

"Where you are is none of your concern. What happened is wha' I'd bloody well like to know."

He stopped at the foot of her bed. Cold blue eyes met her green. He had a thick accent which sent a thrill running through her body, warming her in all the right ways. He wore tight dark leather pants and a firm fitting black shirt which was covered by another leather coat. He had striking features, his hair was as white as snow, his cheekbones sharp and narrow as he glared at Buffy with his eyes turning an even lighter shade of blue as he stared.

Just like the sky's in summer.

The back of her neck tingled and the healing bite wound on her hip started to burn red-hot. Buffy could feel the rush of power that came from him which sent a shudder through her. He was a vampire and a master one at that. He was old, not as old as Angelus and Drusilla, but he held himself with an air of power and strength. Buffy's heart raced, pumping away rapidly in her chest. If he noticed he did not say, but the flicker of fear in her eyes brought a small smile to his face.

Spike took a deep and unnecessary breath and Buffy let herself sink into the mattress when his eyes dilated. She knew her scent lingered in the air, the bloodied soaked ruined clothes lie in a heap on the hutch. The blood soaked bandages dripping onto the floor where they sat on the hutch's edge.

Does he know?

"Let's start from the beginning shall we. Wha's your name?" Buffy never let her eyes stray from his form as he paced casually back and forth at the end of the bed, one hand trailing lazily on the wooden frame. She was wary, tense and scanning the room for an opportunity and ready to run if it was needed.

"Buffy-"

"Don' lie to me! I don' like liars!" His eyes shot to hers, flashing yellow. Buffy took a deep inhale and let out shaky breath.

You can do this. He doesn't know. He doesn't need to know. Be evasive.

"E-Elizabeth Summers..."

So much for being evasive Summers, you give him your name straight out of the gate. Smooth.

"And why did Riley have you?" He spat his name. "Wha' does he wan' with you?"

Buffy's heart was racing as it glanced from his flaring eyes to his clenching fists. She knew the power that was beneath those fists, knew the destruction they had no doubt caused. Spike seemed to have no idea who she was and the power that she too possessed. His only unknown response to her was his dilated eyes and the constant smelling he seemed to be unconsciously doing.

His demon sure knew who she was and more importantly what she was. Every time his eyes flickered ember he would stare intently.

"I-I don't know..."

Soup spilled down Buffy's lap before she could blink and suddenly breathing became an issue. One second he was standing at the end of the bed glaring at her and the next he was straddling her lap, pinning her around the throat and pushing her back into the pillows and head board of the bed.

"Don' lie to me!" He roared his demon coming to the surface, eyes wide and yellow.

Buffy struggled to pull his hand free from her throat, back flaming and burning once again as she choked and sputtered. The lack of a proper meal and sleep over the weeks making her strength oblivious to his powerful grip.

"She can't answer if you're choking her for Christ sake!" The redhead yelled, whispering something in a language Buffy recognized as Latin. With a feral growl Spike was once again at the end of the bed pacing, his eyes flashing blue to yellow as he seemed to struggle reining his demon in.

Tara hesitantly walked over and picked the empty soup bowl up from the floor and handed Buffy a cup of water. She helped her sit back up this time leaning forward and away from the pillows, shooting Buffy a sympathetic look as she struggled to get air back into her lungs.

"What. Does. Riley. Want. With. You?" Spike pronounced each word slowly and forced, his gaze fixed on Buffy and she knew to dare not lie again. He would know the truth one way or another.

"To take me back."

"To who?"

"To h-him."

"Less cryptic shit and more answers. Now!"

"Angelus! To take me back to Angelus..."

"You're no' the first pretty little lady Angelus has taken, luv." He spat his name, hatred in his words as he stopped, tilting his head, curious. "Wha' makes you so special..."

"I-I don't...."

"I've been hunting Finn for the las' three days since I found out he was close to my lands, but whenever I got close-" Spike slapped his hands together making Buffy jump. "He ups and leaves in another direction. Erratic for him which I can only assume was because he was hunting you down. So again I ask." He sat down next to her on the bed, disregarding of the wet soup covered sheets and the now reddening marks around her throat. Buffy flinched as he leaned close. "Wha' makes you so special?"

Buffy eyes began to water as her vision blurred, the voices in the room becoming clouded and foggy. She was seeing double, her body becoming lax as she tried to shake it off and stay awake.

"H-help. I ne-"

Her limbs felt heavy. Buffy tried to move her muscles but couldn't feel a thing. Eyes going wide she grasped out a hand to his bicep tight, her hand stinging. "I'm...P-pulsatus." Buffy struggled to stay upright as she stumbled over her words, lips numb. She felt her forehead connect with his shoulder just as she whispered "Electus." and blacked out, neck bare and exposed.

It was his demons automatic response to come to the surface as he stared at the vein pulsing in her neck. He was aware of Willow and Tara staring at him wide eyes, daring not to interrupt his beast as it sought to discover what she was.

Spike breathed her scent in, dirt and the sweaty musk from traveling off road and in the woods lingered in her hair and skin along with a scent he was familiar with. Blood. This blood wasn't the blood that coated the ruined materials used to mend the wound on her back. No this was fresh. His demon almost grinned when he felt the limp hand fall from his bicep when he moved. Picking the bandaged hand up from the bed near his thigh he brought it to his face. Spike let his demon take control for a few moments and pull the darkening cloth from her hand. He felt his pants grow tight when the cloth dropped to the bed and the wound came in to view, blood dripping from her palm.

The woman- Elizabeth or Buffy, Spike wasn't sure what to call her, was still passed out against his chest. He pushed his demon back and felt himself take more control, his face still in demon form. Spike tentatively lent forward and licked the trialing blood that had dripped down to her wrist and back up to the wound on her palm.

Her blood was like none he had ever tasted before. She was intoxicating. He could taste raw power in her veins, pure and untouched. He couldn't help but suckle at her palm, his tongue licking flat against the wound, the healing collegian in his saliva already helping to stitch the wound closed. Spike growled low in warning when he felt someone move behind him.

"T-The soup I gave her must have kicked in a bit sooner than I thought!" Willow started loudly, lying and knowing full well the dose of sleeping powder that she had added to the soups mixture. She tentatively reached out a hand and touched it briefly with Spike's shoulder, flinching back when he snarled, eyes flashing yellow. Spike turned his gaze once again to Buffy- Elizabeth and lowered her to a laying position.

What was she?

"Wh-what does pulsatus electus mean?" Tara asked.

"It's Latin for touched o-or chosen." Willow replied, staring at the young woman on the bed with wide eyes.

"Well isn' that just neat..." Spike's human visage fell back into place as he brushed a lock of hair from her face, his hand hovering over her bruising neck.

"It's impossible... That bloodline died out a long time ago." Willow whispered staring as the red marks around Buffy's neck seemed to lighten, healing themselves at a rate she had never seen before.

"Clearly not."

"I wan' everyone ready to go within the hour!"

"It's light out still." Willow stated, oblivious to Spikes sudden excitement over the person who had literally fallen into his lap.

"One hour and we're gone."

"She said help." Willow seemed puzzled. Why would a woman of the chosen bloodline ask a vampire for help? How was she even alive? The war that had raged across the country had started over the chosen ones and two powerful vampire covens.

Vampires and the chosen ones where sworn enemies. Why wasn't she dead? Why hadn't Angelus just killed her?

As if hearing her unspoken thoughts, Tara spoke.

"I-If she really is chosen why would Angelus keep her locked up. Why not kill her?" Tara stuttered gathering items from the room and stuffing them into the bag Willow had just passed her.

"Why indeed." Spike muttered staring at the bruised and battered woman who lay before him questions running through his mind a million miles an hour, the lingering sweet taste of her lips still caressing the taste buds on his tongue.

The first thing Buffy felt was a cool breeze as it swept across her bare shoulders causing her to involuntarily shudder. She tried to pull a blanket closer but found there was nothing, no blanket to grab onto, her movements restricted.

The second thing she felt was pain. Her back was no longer numb from the cream Willow had lathered over her wounds but was now screaming with red-hot protest at having been laid on.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she struggled to move, her breath catching as searing pain surged across her back, eyes scrunching together to stop the blank white spots she saw. It took a few moments and a few failed attempts at moving, to finally realize that her hands had been tied together, making it almost impossible to sit up without causing a massive amount of pain.

Great.

One thing she did notice was that the cut on the palm of her hand, as it rubbed against the knuckles of her other hand, was no longer stinging. Thinking no more on it when the snorting of horses and the rumbling of a carriages wheels as they rolled across the dirt and rocks was heard. With a jolt as the cart seemed to hit a narrow hole in the ground she came to the dimming realization that she was no longer sitting in the comfortable bed that she had woken to previously.

She was being moved.

Again.

Events from the night before were still foggy in Buffy's mind as she struggled to open her eyes, knowing that the situation she was in was not a good one.

Now would be a good time to get out and run Summers!

"I'm sorry, b-but it's safer this way."

"For who." Groaning, Buffy cracked one eye open only to find her vision skewed sideways. She was lying sideways down on a carriage seat across from Willow and Tara, who were looking down at her apologetically. "Why am I tied up?" Even as she asked the question she knew the answer.

Escaped from one prison only to be landed in another one, with another vampire as it's master.

This was not going according to plan.

Buffy knew she needed to escape and travel further east to find Rupert Giles, the man who was going to help her take down Angelus.

"So you don' run off, luv."

Buffy jumped, startled and let out a yell at Spike's smirking voice as his head came into view as it popped through the open window to the carriage. He was leaning down from where his horse walked alongside next to them.

"Do I look like I'm going running anytime soon?" Tears sprang to Buffy's eyes as she finally struggled to a sitting position, her back screaming in protest. As she spoke, her hands wriggled in their bindings, trying to find a weakness and loosen them. Any movement she made just seemed to rub the ropes tighter, digging into her already tender flesh from having been tied up by Riley and his men.

"I can' run the risk of you escaping. You're too important. Now that I know wha' you are and how much a certain someone will do almos' anything to get you back."

Buffy's head dropped and a few tears threatened to spill over at hearing his words. There was no way she was letting Spike deliver her to Angelus hogtied and on a silver platter.

She was not going back.

I'll die first.

Hands shaking she struggled to grab at the wrappings of the bandages around her chest as they stuck to her back, pulling on the sensitive skin. She would give almost anything for some of that magical paste Willow seemed to be in possession of. Anything to take away the pain.

Spike didn't know what possessed him to yell out, but seeing the stricken look that crossed Buffy's features had him shouting out an order to stop. He pulled on his horse’s reins until it slowed and finally came to a stop alongside the carriage. He yanked open the door none to gently and motioned for the two women to exit, helping Willow down with a gentle hand before letting Tara slip passed. He reached in and wrapped his hand around Buffy's tied wrists, jerking her up and out. He held the door to the carriage open and grasped her arm tight when she stumbled on the two steps, still weak from blood loss and lack of food.

"Get that paste of yours would you." He grimaced as Willow pulled out the vial of paste to which he seemed obviously disgusted at, scrunching his face when the vial was opened and the smell assaulted his senses.

"Tied me up so I can't run free and yet worried about my discomfort. Thanks ever so!" Buffy growled, snatching her arm free, grimacing as the movement caused her back to flush red-hot.

"All that wriggling of yours has your back open again. I can smell the blood." He breathed in deep, leaning down to whisper in her ear hotly. "You taste even better."

"Fuck you." Buffy spat, heart racing at his implication.

She was unnerved, Spike spoke with such conviction. He made out that he had tasted her blood already and she couldn't help but nervously lift her hands towards her neck, a silent sigh going through her when she found no bite marks there.

Still, he smirked on.

Smug bastard!

Buffy flinched and stepped back when Tara moved towards her to help unwrap the bandages.

The sun had already set and pitch black darkness surrounded the small group, barely being able to make out the shadows of the trees that lined the path. The carriage they traveled with had lit oil lamps. One was inside the carriage and the other was strung up on the outside, lighting the spot near where the driver sat. Standing just under the light made it easy to see the blood soaked bandages as Tara unwrapped them from Buffy's chest and dropped them to the ground.

Grimacing as the bandages were peeled away from her back, Buffy brought up her bound hands to cover her exposed naked chest, eyes glaring at her grinning vampire captor as his tongue came out to wet his lips.

'Delicious.' Spike thought, eyes raking over her half naked form.

"This will sting." Willow said sympathetically before splashing a small bottle of cold running liquid on Buffy's back. The scream that broke through her lips had her eyes squeezing shut and grabbing blindly at the closest thing that was available to her to release some of the pain. It just so happened to be Spikes arm.

"Christ!" Spike exclaimed, at feeling Buffy's tiny hands wrap around his arm in a vice like grip.

Buffy was panting, tears threatening to spill over as her vision flashed white. Her naked chest was forgotten as she gripped his arm, her nails digging into his flesh and nearly drawing blood. Spike stared at the torn woman in front of him felt pity for her for the first time since she had been brought into his group.

Her back was a mess. Old scar tissue covered the whole expanse of her tiny back, blood dripping in between the raised welts from the blows her captors had dealt her. Her tear strained face met his and dropped quickly, hands shaking and nails digging into his flesh again when Willow splashed her with the cold wet liquid once more.

Buffy cursed, the scar that ran from her cheek to lips quivered as she shook from the pain.

She was one battered and beaten woman.

Her chest faced him and Spike couldn't help but take in her small frame for the first time since capturing her. She had obviously been living off of the land with the amount of dirt and grime that was caked to her clothes and skin. He had smelt weeks’ worth of travel, different woods and dirt stuck to her clothes, but as it was winter there wasn't much to hunt and her ribs were starting to show through her pale skin.

His gaze traveled further down to her hips and stopped just above her tattered and torn pants where his eyes zeroed in on what looked to be bite marks followed by four long pale lines. His eyes darkened at seeing the bite mark on her skin, his demon crying out in rage that she had been marked in such a way.

Marked by a vampire that wasn't him.

'What the bloody hell?' Spike couldn't stop the possessive growl that seemed to rumble through his chest. The bite marks looked so familiar and yet there was something about them, vicious in their making.

"Don't!"

Without realizing he had reached out with his free hand, his fingertips barely grazing the silky expanse of her skin when Buffy's hand snatched his wrist in a tight grip.

"D-Don't."

"He really did a number on you didn' he."

It was more of a whispered statement than a question. Buffy's eyes never left his, thankful that Willow had started to cover her back in that magical paste of hers, slowly numbing the pain that encased her back. Tara moved to wrap a fresh bandage around Buffy's chest, covering her naked breasts from Spikes view once again.

The brief contact of his fingers on her bite mark had sent it burning hot and Buffy couldn't help the discomforted whimper that escaped her. The bite mark always burned at night, every step she took seemed to worsen the pain, but this was different. The burning sensation she felt now was fiery-hot and angry, like nothing she had felt before.

One thing was for certain, she did not want his hands near her again.

I was weak. Too weak to fight back. Too weak to tear my tormentors off of me when they attacked. Riley, Angelus...Drusilla.

"It wasn't just him." Barely recognizing her own voice as she spoke, she took a deep breath. The defeat in her voice was comforted by the gentle squeeze Tara gave to her shoulder before wrapping the bandage around her chest and back around in another loop. "This one was from Angelus." Buffy traced a finger down the scar on her left cheek and stopped at her lips where the scar finished. "Some on my back are from Angelus, but mostly from Riley. Different times, different places." Shuddering, she lift up her arms as best she could with them bound as Tara wrapped the bandage around again, almost breathing a sigh of relief when she no longer felt the ache in her back. Numb once more, she dropped her hands, fingers hovering over her right hip. "These," she scratched at the bite mark and deep lines angrily as they burned before turning to glare up at Spike. "are from Drusilla."

"What." Spike almost but whispered, his demon whimpered as Spike forced it aside.

"T-That should keep you relatively comfortable until we get back and then we'll change the bandages and clean the wounds again. OK, let's go." Willow rushed out, pouring water over her hands, rinsing them of Buffy's blood before stepping up back into the carriage, one hand running soothing circles on her belly.

Buffy raised an eyebrow at Willows rushed words, something sure had her frazzled and for a moment she was sure she had seen something cross her face before she disappeared from view. Tara had already walked up ahead to where Oz was standing, gripping onto the reins of Spike's horse as soon as she had tied off the bandage. She came back a few moments later just as Willow sat down in the carriage.

"W-we need to move. Oz say's it's not safe to linger here any longer."

Buffy let out a defeated sigh, goosebumps rising across her skin as another icy winter’s breeze brushed through the air. Turning to climb back into the carriage she was stopped by Spike who grabbed her arm in a deadly grip, eyes wide.

"Drusilla? She's with Angelus?"

"Yes." It came out as a whisper, making her shudder from the memories. "She's his mate." Buffy spat the words out, a shudder running though her. There was no amount of spells that would ever erase the memory of that particular night from Buffy's mind.

The night Angelus had claimed Drusilla.

The night she had been bitten.

"You lie! She-"

"I have absolutely no reason to lie to you!" Buffy shouted meeting his narrowed glare. "I have been held captive by that insane bitch for nearly two years!"

Buffy's head reeled from the blow Spike delivered to her face. She kept her eyes downcast and low, spitting the blood from her mouth at his feet as it trickled from her open lip.

"How dare you!"

Tears welled in her eyes before she blinked and let them fall freely. She slowly lift up her head and met his enraged gaze.

"You know nothing."

Her whispered words pulled at the pit of her stomach making her numb. Memories she had tried to stay banished from her mind forced themselves forward and her tears fell freely onto her cheek, her lip dripping with blood. She stared at him for seconds or minutes she didn't know, she couldn't breathe, didn't blink and then finally she was turning and stumbling up the three steps back into the warm carriage.

She didn't look at either Tara or Willow as she wiped the blood from her chin and brushed the tears from her cheeks. The only response Spike gave was a fierce growl and a bark of orders to Oz who had climbed back into his seat outside. With a shout the horses started up, coming to a fierce gallop and pulling the carriage away with a jolt.

"Drusilla was-" Willow whispered and paused, "with William, uh-Spike a long time ago."

She passed Buffy a blanket after seeing the shaking she was doing, skin covered in goosebumps. Giving no response of thanks or voice on her words, Buffy sat staring blankly down at her bound hands as the ropes dug into her flesh. Her fingers and hands still smeared with the blood from her face.

William? As in William the bloody. The master vampire that has been fighting a war against Angelus for over a decade. The master vampire who had plagued the country for over one-hundred years with the insane Drusilla at his side. He was supposed to be dead!'

Buffy let out a silent sob as her memories caught up with her.

It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered anymore. She had resigned herself to that fact that she was never going to find Rupert Giles. She was never going to get her revenge on Angelus and Drusilla. Not when Spike only saw her as a bargaining chip to get the insane bitch back.

Tears fell down Buffys cheeks as she whispered.

"Effugiturus unus abyssus tantum ut exsisto captio in aliud."

Under her own blanket Willow reached over and grasped Tara's hand in a firm grip as tears formed in her own eyes. At Tara's quizzical look Willow translated her Latin spoken words in a broken whisper, sympathy and sadness for Buffy written all over her face.

"Escape one hell only to be imprisoned in another."

It was approaching dawn when they arrived at what Buffy assumed was Spike's home. A castle that was tucked back for miles away from the main path and in the safety of many large oak trees. The grounds were shadowed by the large tree's and seemed quite ominous and intimidating, surrounding the house in darkness.

Not inviting at all

From what she remembered having read in her fathers books about the wars of the two fighting vampire covens was that William the bloody AKA Spike, was a ruthless killer. He gave no mercy to his foes and was a force to be reckoned with. At first the vampires had been one united clan, it was them versus the humans whose land, possessions and women they wanted. They had ransacked village after village killing and taking what they pleased, who they pleased. The vampires had hunted down and killed each and every one of her ancestors until there was barely anything left and then they turned on each other.

The covens divided and after that the books were filled with pages and pages of the battles fought and the lives lost in the aftermath of each tragic event.

Buffy sighed, Spike had no doubt tried and had maybe even succeeded in killing a member of her family.

Her fathers books had said Spike had once been in the same coven as Angelus, brows furrowing together as she thought. She couldn't remember reading what had actually started the war between the two covens, a feud between Angelus and Spike, but Buffy knew from the way her face still stung after the punch Spike had delivered to her face that Drusilla was somehow involved.

Willow was helped out of the carriage by Oz and Tara, one hand placed on the swell of her belly as she waddled up the path to the doors. Hands reached and grabbed for Buffy as soon as she stepped from the carriage, orders having already been barked at the guards from their master to take her away as he rushed inside before he met the sun's rising harmful rays.

Watching the doors close behind the trio who walked ahead of Buffy she paused, wondering why Willow, Tara and Oz stayed.

Were they too captives of Spikes? Forced to work for him? Was he too threatening there lives and loved ones? Was he after Willows baby? Oh God. Surely not? Then again with his nature and tormented past.

Buffy was jolted from her thoughts when out of her peripheral vision she saw more guards carrying the crumbled form of one Riley Finn and cast a glance back at the carriage, curious as to where he had been kept during there travels. She struggled against her bonds in a desperate need to run to Riley and beat him to a bloody pulp and make him talk.

If he was going to die it would be by her hands.

Hands grabbed against each of her forearms, stilling her movements. Buffy struggled for a few moments before sagging in defeat, knowing that she wasn't going to get the chance to question him any time soon. They walked in silence, Buffy letting the men drag her through the huge castle doors and inside to her new prison.

Home sweet prison-y home.

When they took an abrupt turn up a flight of winding stairs instead of down she was startled. Surely she was to be kept in the dungeon which was in the lower levels of castles. Buffy stumbled on the uphill steps still weak, hands still bound and unable to balance. Letting out a yelp as one of her captors pushed her back down and another grabbed at her arm, forcing her forward.

"Don't bother trying to escape." Was growled out at her before she was roughly shoved into a dark room a few minutes later and the door slammed shut behind her.

There was no window in the room, nothing but pitch black darkness. With a shudder from the freezing cold air the stone walls kept encased in the room and unable to see a thing Buffy stepped forward and let out a yelp, the corner of a thick piece of furniture hitting her hip at an uncomfortable angle.

Giving a defeated sob she slipped to the floor, her tears flowing freely. She remembered her first few weeks with Angelus in the cold dark dungeon below his estate and then to the windowless room she was then moved into. Deja Vu was all around her, but with a brief shaky breath she let out a sigh. At least she wasn't shackled to a wall this time.

Minutes or hours later she wasn't sure, voices started at the door making her jump and her heart race.

Thought too soon. Here they come to tie me up properly.

"You open this door right now or so help me I'll curse you!"

"But the master-"

"If Spike has a problem he can come and find me. Open it. Now!"

There was silence and then Willow growled out a few words in Latin before the door was thrust open and Buffy squinted from the intruding light.

"This is ridiculous!" Willow yelled at the now closed door as she too was encased in darkness. Buffy only had a few moments to see her form, arms full of bandages and more vials before her image had slipped away into shadows.

"Accendo."

A fire burst into flame in the fireplace that Buffy only now realized the small room had, tucked away in the corner of the room.

"You're a witch!" Eyes wide, unbelieving. Buffy had pictured Willow to be more of a medicine woman with the amount of potions and vials she had first seen on the hutch when she had first woken the previous day.

"Sure am." Willow smiled, proud. She placed her items on the wooden hutch that Buffy had found purchase in front of before walking around the room and lighting the lamps and candles that surrounded them.

Following her movements she finally got the chance to survey her new prison. It was a lot more comfortable than the last one she had been in when Angelus had held her captive that was for sure. There was a large four poster bed against one wall, it's red satin sheets flaming an even brighter red against the candlelight that now shone bright throughout the room. A hardwood chest sat at the foot of the bed facing the fire which Buffy slowly stood and walked towards to sit on, warming her toes in the fur rug beneath her feet as she lent against one of the beds posts.

Willow moved back to the hutch and spread out her items looking apologetically at Buffy as she lifted the vial that contained the wet cold liquid that would clean her wounds.

That one always hurt the most.

"Is Tara also-"

"She's learning." Willow helped Buffy unravel the bandages from her torso as they spoke. "You speak Latin quite well. Are you a witch too because I can totally teach you this really awesome-"

"No." Buffy laughed nervously, confused at Willows ease and openness around her. Spike treated her with such cold disdain, nothing else than she would expect a person to treat a prisoner, but Willow and Tara, they were different. They always sent her apologetic looks and small reassuring smiles. Buffy didn't know what to think of the situation. "My father-" she sighed sadly, missing him terribly. What she wouldn't give to hear him speak again, for him to wrap her up in one of his amazing hugs and whisper that everything was going to be ok. "He dabbled a bit b-but I speak it because almost all of his books were in Latin. Especially the ones about-" Buffy drifted off.

"About you?"

"And my mother."

Willow was surprised at the rate Buffy's back was healing. The wound was still red and angry, but already the skin had begun to stitch itself together.

"Amazing." She whispered before motioning for her to grip onto something. This time the cold liquid was poured onto her back she only let out a hiss in response. It burned, but was nowhere near as bad as it had been hours earlier when it was changed on the path. "Is your mother chosen like you?"

"She was."

"I'm so sorry." Willow whispered, seeing the unshed tears in Buffys eyes. "How did she-"

"Angelus. Riley said she's alive... or was. I need to speak to him. Can you? I need to-"

"I'm so sorry Buffy."

There was a few moments of silence as Willow begun pasting the cream on her back and the pain turned into nothing but a dull ache. Whatever that comfortable and open mood had been in the room stopped and Buffy couldn't help but stare into the fire in the corner of the room, trying to force away the memories of Angelus's words, taunting her about how he had tortured and killed her mother.

Buffy knew Willow wasn't going to help her, but there was no harm in trying. Shaking her head to rid herself of painful memories she spoke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oz? What is he? He's not a witch and he's not a vampire, but he's something else... something with power."

"Oz is a werewolf."

"Werewolf?" Buffy whispered, whipping her head around to meet a smiling Willows eyes. Willow reached down and stroked the swell of her large belly, smiling before reaching for the fresh bandage on the hutch.

A memory of brief flashes of fur passed before her as she remembered the night they had taken her from Riley right before she had passed out in the forest. "You have a werewolf in your belly!"

"She won't turn until she's of age." Willow laughed at Buffy's obvious bewilderment. "I can't even begin to imagine the image you just had of a tiny little four legged pup in my belly." Willow chuckled again before tying off her bandage. "As long as she's healthy I don't really mind what she is. She's a part of me."

Buffy watched on in silence again as Willow moved about the room, cleaning up. She picked up everything in her arms and moved to walk towards the door, turning to look back sadly at Buffy's defeated form.

"Spike's not so bad once you get to know him." Willow offered her a small smile and Buffy could only looked back unsure, unease forming on her face.

I don't want to get to know him.

"I'll be back tomorrow to change your bandage again." She rapped at the door. "Try and get some sleep."

"Thank you."

Willow turned in the open doorway and smiled back at Buffy, her gaze broken as the door was once again slammed shut and the lock slipped back into place.

Alone again.

......................................................


Slamming her fist against the door Buffy let out a frustrated growl. All of her efforts where fruitless. Glaring menacingly at the lock that just wouldn't budge she threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. Pacing back and forth on the fur rug beneath her feet she felt her body begin to warm, part in thanks to the fire Willow had lit hours earlier.

She had spent the first hour after Willows departure searching the room for everything and anything that could be useful in her escape.

If I ever manage to pick this God damn lock!

The chest at the end of the four poster bed contained a few old dresses and the hutch Willow had set her things on had nothing in it but the fork she had used to attack the lock. That would have been too easy. There was no window to climb through and the walls where made of thick stone.

It was impossible.

Running a hand through the tangled mass that was her hair, she let out a puff of air in defeat.

"Great. Just great! Stuck in a room with no windows with nothing but a few old rags. Reduced to talking to myself. Smooth Summers."

Buffy fumbled her steps when the door was thrust open and two men came in. One carried a small plate of food and the other a basin of water and a washcloth. They stayed only long enough to place their respective items on the chest at the end of the bed before turning to leave the room, door banging shut once again.

She rushed for the food, stomach growling and couldn't help but let out a moan as her taste buds went haywire. Her first real meal in weeks. After demolishing her food in only minutes, Buffy soaked the face cloth in the warm water and wiped the dried blood from her cheek and chin. Frowning upon seeing the dried blood on her hips from where the blood on her back had trailed down, she cast a hesitant glance towards the shut door before pulling her tattered pants down.

Lifting one leg at a time onto the hutch Buffy washed them clean, running the washcloth over her hips and over the lower part of her back that wasn't bandaged. She rinsed off her hands and tried her best to scrape the dirt and blood from beneath her fingers before her vision blurred, limbs becoming heavy.

There was no doubt in her mind that Willow had once again put something in her food.

Stumbling to the bed and managing to get under the covers, the last feeling Buffy had was her bite mark burning before she was met with darkness, completely numb once more.

"Rise and shine!"

A sharp gasp escaped Riley's lips as ice cold water was splashed all over his face. Rivets of water rushed down his naked chest and soaking into the material of his pants. He tried to move and found that his hands were bound in shackles above his head which were suspended from the ceiling. His feet barely touched the ground, making the muscles in his arms and back scream in protest at the unnatural position.

Spike stood standing in front of him, calm and collected, a silent smirk on his face which sent Riley into a fit of panic, his heart racing.

"Now I find myself in a bit of a pickle mate. I've got a young woman in my possession, gorgeous thing, yay high, bit of a mouth on her though. Who I know Angelus wants very badly." The bucket Spike had used to splash Riley dropped to the ground and he kicked it away, the sound riveting off the walls making him cringe. "Otherwise he wouldn' have sent you. I wan' to know why. Why, why, why?" Spike stalked his prey, slowly walking behind Riley and stepping up close, relishing in the way his heart was pounding in his chest. "Why is she so valuable to him? What does Angelus want to do with her?"

"Fuck you!" Riley spat out, knocking his head back to hit Spike in the temple, who only let out a disappointed tisk in response.

"We can do this the easy way," Spike moved towards the door of the cell and opened it. Riley's eyes widened in surprise and horror at what walked through. "Or the hard way." The beast on all fours let out a feral growl and Spike grinned. "Who am I kidding? There's only the hard way. It's no fun if you don' bleed."

The werewolf circled Riley's dangling legs, nipping at the air in threat as Spike spoke calmly.

"She has the blood. She is one of the chosen." It was a statement which Riley knew to be truth, but he refused to give the master vampire the satisfaction of knowing he was correct. He would die before he betrayed his master. "But tha' bloodline was supposedly destroyed years ago, the covens saw to that. But I've tasted her blood, such sweet nectar it is." Spike's eyes closed at the memory of the sweet taste of Buffy's blood as it first hit his lips. "Mmmmm she is delicious. She's going to be strong." Spike grinned, his demon wanted more and his eyes flashed a feral yellow.

Riley's heart skipped a beat as the werewolf's jaws snapped down too close to his leg than he would have liked, eyes jumping back up to Spike when he came to stand right in front of him, his demon eyes yellow and feral.

"What is Angelus's plan?" When Riley did noting but spit at his face in return Spike nodded towards the wolf. Riley let out a deafening scream when the wolf's jaws clamped around his leg, head shaking, teeth ripping at his flesh.

He couldn't stop the words that sprang free, anything to get the wolf to stop it's tearing teeth from ripping his leg off.

"Prophecy! There's a prophecy!"

Spike placed his hand on the wolfs neck and grinned, Riley was a master at delivering pain, but when it came to being on the receiving end he was as weak as they came. This was going to be too easy. The werewolf detached its jaws and Riley's bloodied and broken leg swung free.

"Now we're getting somewhere! Wha' does the prophecy say?"

"I don't know! Please! It's not in English! All I know Is that he wanted to breed the bitch." Riley's eyes widened in horror when Spike motioned for the wolf to resume it's bite, his cries and pleas spilling forth as he spoke.

"What? How?"

"I-I don't know! Please! It didn't work last time!"

"Last time? He's tried before then?"

Spike paced back and forth. He had known Angelus had been taking young women for years, it was his thing, his Raison D'etre. It was how he had turned Drusilla, before stalking and torturing her first. Angelus loved young women, loved the torture, but it wasn't all physical. No, Angelus liked to mentally destroy his victims before they finally met their true death. His dark princess would always be a little bit damaged from the things Angelus had done to her before he had finally turned her.

But why would Angelus keep Buffy alive. Vampires couldn't breed, they were dead, their reproductive organs no longer functioned to that purpose. Surely he wouldn't try to turn one of the chosen blood? That was forbidden. The war between vampires and the chosen ones had raged for a century before his ancestors had demolished the bloodline for good and taken over the lands they owned.

"The bitch's mother. She was strong... it took a long time to break her." Riley let out a laugh and shook against his restraints. "Broke her eventually though," he grinned, proud of himself. "Just like her daughter. They're all weak in the end."

Spike growled low in his stomach, the demon enraged that Riley had inflicted such pain onto Buffy's skin. Again, Spike felt himself reacting before a thought touched his mind and he punched Riley in the face, his body swinging in the restraints. His demon roared and demanded for his death at the thought of him laying a hand on the small woman upstairs. Sick of Riley's prattling nonsense and with a nod of his head towards the werewolf it once again encased Riley's leg in a vicious bite who let out a scream in pain.

"All the other girls... He was searching for her all these years?"

"Yes!"

"Vampires can't breed!" Spike growled out, getting frustrated with Riley's answers.

"He's going to come for her you know."

The demon in Spike flashed forward and growled menacingly at Riley before taking a few calming breaths. Was this wanker serious? That was the most obvious thing Angelus would do.

"Good!" Spike yelled suddenly, on edge that his demon was getting restless and calling out for blood. Spike had had enough. He wrapped his fist around Riley's throat before he growled. "I'll ask him about the blasted prophecy myself!" He wrenched Riley's neck to the side and struck, fangs digging in deep as he drank. Riley's scream filled the room, dulling down until there was nothing more but silence.

"Are you sure that was wise?"

Spike didn't bother to meet Oz's eyes, never realizing he had changed as he strolled from the room, shaking his demon off as the warm blood dripped from his chin, sated. Riley's now dead dangling body was left swinging against his restraints behind him.

"Get rid of that will you." Spike stepped up the stairs and yelled out behind him. "And get me Ripper! I have a man to see about a prophecy."

.............................................................


She was such a small thing, tiny hands, small wrists, petite nose that had the smallest bend in it. Spike traced the pale scar that ran from her left cheek down over both lips and ended just under her bottom lip. Her chin and lips were bruised from where he had punched her earlier and a frown formed on his face as her teeth started to chatter together from the cold. Spike watched as they calmed when he pulled the thick blanket up over her shoulders once again in a warm cocoon. He had placed another log on the small fire in the corner of the room when he had first entered. Elizabeth-Buffy, he had decided to call her as it suited her attitude, was passed out in the center of the bed. Her long blonde hair a tangled mess that covered her face like a curtain.

"You know nothing."

Her words had haunted him the rest of the ride back to his estate. He would never forget the day that Drusilla had first come to his bed chambers reeking of the great old poof. He had suspected for some time that she had been seeing Angelus behind his back, but would never call her on it. No, not his dark princess who he had spent over one-hundred years with. Devoted to, she was loyal to him just as he was to her. Or so he had thought.

Still, she returned to him most nights reeking of his great grand-sire, her insanity increasing as her nonsensical words turned into incoherent yelling, getting worse and worse as the months went on.

Still, Spike did everything in his power to care for her, bring her whatever she needed. Drusilla was after all his sire and there would always be a special bond between them that no one could break. Not even the great poof himself.

"You reek of sunshine my love. You taste like ashes and dust in mommies mouth. Ruined! You're all ruined!"

They had fought, yelling and screaming as they had been for months until they ended up fucking. Standard for vampires, fighting, blood and sex just went well together. Drusilla was his. His alone and he would be damned if Angelus was going to take her from him.

"Daddy's going to fix everything. You will see. Oh, he makes such sweet little dollies my love. Line them up and knock them down one by one. All ripe for the picking they are!"

Spike had taken Drusilla away in the early hours of the night after another fight. If he could just get her away from the poisonous words Angelus was spreading to her mind, then she would be better again. She would love him. He was going to prove to her that he was worthy of her. Prove that he was the better, stronger master vampire.

Worthy of her acceptance to a Claim bite.

But his efforts had been futile. Drusilla had left him after waking and fled back to her precious 'Daddy'. Spike had gone back of course and couldn't help but try and stake Angelus, the wanker.

Things had taken a turn for the worst after that. To think that an all out war between the two master vampires had started over Drusilla. A feud that was still going today.

Drusilla seemed more excited over the fact that her two boys were fighting over her, insanely rambling on. She would slip between Spikes home and Angelus', toying with them both for weeks on end. In the end Drusilla's visits had become less and less until she had stopped coming to him altogether. He sought Angelus out who seemed uninterested when Spike had all but pleaded with him to have word on her well-being, panic and despair setting in when Angelus simply shrugged and stated that he hadn't seen Dru in months, thinking the worst had come of her.

"I've been held captive by that insane bitch for nearly two years!"

Buffy's words haunted him. Angelus had lied. Drusilla had returned to him. In the end the great poof had won the girl and he was left on the other side of the country with what little pride he had left. His eyebrows narrowed, his hand scrunching in the sheets beneath him as he plotted the many ways he would kill Angelus.

Drusilla was his. His dark princess. His alone.

"You dare!"

"You know nothing."

The haunted look that had crossed Buffy's eyes had sent a chill down his spine. What was it about this young woman that had Spike so rattled?

Buffy rolled in her sleep, her hair falling off of her face and her neck finally free to Spike's gaze. He watched the pulse point in her neck throb as it slowly pumped blood through her body.

Boomp boomp....boomp boomp

Without realizing it his demon had come forward and he was leaning down, his lips barely touching the soft tender skin on her neck, her pulse point thumping away beneath his lips.

Boomp boomp....boomp boomp

His demon wanted more of her intoxicating blood. Wanted to taste her sweetness once again as he buried himself in her heat and got lost in it as he tore at her neck and suckled her life essence. He wanted her as his.

His mate.

No!

Spike let out a frustrated growl and pushed off from the bed.

This was not happening.

Drusilla. He wanted Drusilla. She would be his. She was his dark princess. She would be his mate.

He shook away his demon who growled at his refusal to accept that he wanted the blonde sleeping woman in front of him.

No. He would have Drusilla for his mate even if that meant giving Angelus the thing he wanted most. A slow smile came to his lips watching Buffy toss in her sleep.

Killing Angelus could come after.

"I wan' answers, Ripper. Now!" Spike stormed into the library, pushing the wooden double doors open with a bang. His fists clenched tight, the whites of his knuckles showing how tense and restless he was.

"Y-yes well, it's not an easy translation. It can be interpreted many ways you see, and I've told you to stop calling me that! It was a long time ago."

'Ripper' Rupert Giles had first crossed paths nearly five years ago. During the covens reign the war had fallen onto his own lands and home and the backlash from the assault had been the massacre of his wife and only child. His furious and swift response to the demons who had taken his family from him had earned him the nickname 'Ripper' and you would be a fool to ever ask him the particulars of how he acquired such a nickname. Spike had taken him into his home after his successful attempt at killing a number of Angelus' top minions and vowed to offer him sanctuary for his help in return to kill Angelus.

Nowadays he preferred to be called Giles and had been living in Spike's mansion for the better part of five years.

Giles was quite skilled when it came to witchcraft, surpassing Willow by miles and had spent the last year training and honing her skills in the art.

"Well interpret one then!" Spike snapped.

"R-right well..." Giles pulled the glasses from his face, wiping them with the corner of his shirt and squinting as he struggled to read the fine transcript in front of him. "In sulum ingenero a electus unus est nate. Ille solus voluntas ado the unus ut habitum the vires of utriusque electus ac immortalis-"

"I don' speak Latin, Rupert. English if you please." Spike growled tersely, his patience running paper thin at how dense he was sometimes.

Giles let out a frustrated sigh and ripped the glasses from his face, having only just placed them back and sent Spike a glare as if to say 'You read the blasted thing then!'

"It basically says, into every generation a Chosen One is born. She alone will bring forth one that possesses the strength of both chosen and immortal. She is the beginning and the end. She is the Slayer."

"But that's incorrect isn' it, there used to be more than just one. There was a whole bloody bloodline of them!"

"Correct, but this points out very clearly that there is supposed to be a chosen ONE. It's very specific on the one."

"It doesn' make any bloody sense."

"Prophecy's can be very fickle." Giles eased himself into a chair at the desk where his scrolls and parchments were laying scattered across its top. He had been roused from his sleep in the early hours of the morning by Oz who had said that Spike demanded answers on a particular prophecy regarding the chosen bloodline.

Which he thought had been a very strange request indeed.

Giles hadn't looked over the scrolls and parchments since they had first been given to him to keep secret and safe many years ago. The chosen ones were a dead bloodline as far as anyone knew and he thought it quite peculiar that Spike would ask him to interpret them, which he told Oz as much. He was then informed of the young girl Spike had acquired on his return trip after successfully tracking down and capturing Angelus's right hand man, Riley.

He had spent nearly an hour staring at parchments and scrolls before coming across one that made any form of sense. Could it really be true? Was the woman in Spike's possession really one of the chosen. With his brows furrowed, Giles held back a yawn.

"Oz tells me that the young woman is covered in scars, is she not?" Giles asked, curious about a particular parchment he had seen earlier with a drawing of a woman on it.

"Her back's ripped to pieces. Got a bite mark and scratch marks on her hip." Spike paced, his own hands falling to his hips where Buffy's scars sat. "Drusilla-"

"Drusilla?"

"Mated to the great pillock himself." Spike scoffed out, bitterness in his words.

"She's alive then? W-well that's just... Healed scars, yes? That would suggest Angelus and Drusilla have had the young woman captive for a long time then."

"Two years, give or take she reckons."

"How old is she?"

"Can' be any older than eighteen I'd wager." Spike paused and came to stand in front of the desk, staring at parchments that Giles was now rummaging through.

"Interesting..." Giles pulled a parchment from the pile, his eyes scanning it before moving onto another. "No, that's not it."

Spike was getting restless again, his knuckles gripping the corners of the desk watching as Giles pulled out one parchment after the other before tossing each aside.

The Chosen bloodline had been deemed a threat to Spikes kind before he had been turned. He had only ever heard whispers and tales of their power and strength as they fought to kill off his kind and any beast they saw as evil. Witches, vampires, werewolves and any demon or beast they saw as a threat was hunted and killed.

Spike had sure enough jumped at the chance to taste but one drop of the euphoric blood that was said to run through the chosen ones' veins. The blood and strength of the chosen ones only ran in the females. Drusilla had giggled gleefully when the killing started, how she loved to hear people scream as they ran with fear and terror in their eyes. She had spent many evenings telling Spike the stories of the fall of the Chosen.

But he had never found a woman with the chosen blood until now.

Buffy.

She was different from anyone he had ever tasted. Her blood was like a drug and Spike had to clutch onto the desk he was leaning against to stop himself from tearing back up the stairs and into her room where he had just been about to tear into her flesh and taste her again.

"She said help. Why would a woman of the chosen bloodline ask a vampire for help?"

Willows words came to mind when Buffy had first passed out in his arms and he sighed. More unanswered questions which he doubted Giles would find the answers to.

"He was waiting."

"For what?"

Spike stared down wide-eyed at the parchment that Giles had placed down in front of him. There was a drawing of a woman in the center, her arms thrown out wide to the sides. Lines were drawn vertically though her, what he assumed was light or power rushing into her body. Around the picture was writing that circled the whole parchment.

The person who had written it seemed in a rush to do so because their script was scribbled and unrecognizable and in Latin.

"Always in bloody Latin." He growled and cast a glance at the words at the top of the page that were scrawled out in thick black ink.

"The Becoming."

"What does tha' even mean?"

Giles turned the parchment over and Spike felt his eyes widen. There were more words scrawled in a blurred rush on the back, but again like before there in the center of the parchment was a drawing of a woman's face.

Buffy's face.

Right down to the scar that trailed from her left cheek down to the bottom of her lips. Spike whispered his words, unbelieving.

"She's the one."

Buffy woke feeling groggy, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stretched in the bed she had passed out in. She had known as soon as her body had begun feeling heavy that another sleeping powder had been added to her meal the night before and she found herself almost grateful for it.

The powder had knocked her out cold and left her feeling almost refreshed, the nightmares that usually plagued her dreams had not been there for the last few nights. The bite mark on her hip was also surprisingly cold to the touch.

Weird.

Shrugging it off with a frown Buffy moved her hands to her neck. There was a point in the middle of the night when she had felt the familiar tingling warning her that there was a supernatural presence nearby, her body struggling to move in its drug dosed state. That feeling soon calmed when she was once again encased in warmth and once more let darkness engulf her.

She slipped from the bed and walked over to the fire that was on the verge of dying out to place more wood on it, reminded once again at the lack of windows in her prison. A sigh in defeat escaped her, staring into the rising flames of the fireplace before her stomach growled making its hunger known. Buffy surveyed the room and with a hesitant smile and walked to the end of the bed where a new plate of food and a new basin of warm water had been placed along with another wash cloth.

Hesitantly she sniffed at the food wondering if there more sleeping powder in it and if Spike was going to keep her drugged, groggy and docile all the time.

Keep me weak so that he could take me to Angelus.

She huffed out a breath of air and put the plate of food down before surveying the room once again, trying to spot any more ways to get out.

The search was once again futile so she settled for pacing for a few moments. A flash of color caught her eyes, something that had not been there yesterday. On top of the hutch a folded up piece of material had been placed, unraveling it she almost smiled at the soft cream and gold dress, frowning when she realized that part of the dress was see-through and would not cover much.

Its design was strange to Buffy, seeming to have no straps to hold it up, only a tube that covered just over her breasts. The material changed at the front with the see-through cream material cutting at a high angle, her legs and nearly her center exposed. She tried to twist the dress a few times and finally managed to get the high cut to expose her hip and not her center.

This is ridiculous.

Letting out a huff she glanced down at her bloodied pants once more, knowing that she couldn't wear her ruined clothes from before.

Two guards came to take Buffy from her room a while later, walking through the halls and up another set of winding stairs with men flanking her on all sides. She didn't know if it was day or night, the castle seemed to possess no windows. Grumbling under her breath, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to stave of the chilly air that caused a rush of goosebumps to cover her flesh.

Damn dress does nothing to keep me warm.

Her back felt better today and with the food from last night and the full nights dreamless sleep she had just had she felt the muscles twitch, no longer feeling the skin pinching together, taunt as it healed.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to you, but I'm finding it a bit hard to move around today."

Buffy was allowed to enter the room by herself, double doors being closed quietly behind her. Two guards stood watch inside the room. This room was almost twice the size of the room she was kept in with three large windows, all open with their curtains blowing in the morning, or afternoons breeze she wasn't sure. It didn't matter what time of day it was.

Buffy smiled.

Windows.

Freedom at last.

Willow was pacing the length of her floor, one hand on her back and the other on her belly as she breathed deep.

"My little one wants out."

"Are you?" Buffy asked, wide-eyed staring at her stomach thinking at any moment that Willow would give birth. Willow chuckled and shook her head, motioning for her to come further into the room where her fresh bandages and creams sat on a desk. From this new position further in the room Buffy could see that they were quite a few more floors up than she would have liked.

There would be no jumping out of the open windows and running to her freedom.

"Not yet but soon. H-how are you feeling today?"

"Much better, thank you."

"Let's have a look then." Willow helped pull the cream and gold material off and Buffy grabbed it before it could slip to the ground, the guards staring at her the whole time.

She helped unravel the bandage and what Willow saw made her gasp.

"Remarkable."

Buffy jumped when the palm of Willows hand touched her bare back, flinching when she felt a hand run over the rough lines of her scars. All that was left of the recent cuts that Riley's sword and whip had caused was a red line which Willow was in no doubt of would fade to a light line by tomorrow.

"I can still put the paste on if you want me to? A-although I don't think wrapping it back up is really necessary. This is amazing! The fresh air will probably do it some good, actually." Willow grinned, loving the smell of winter as it blew in slowly though her open windows.

"Not like I'll get any of that from my room." Buffy snorted, jumping when the cold paste was painted onto her back. At Willows quizzical 'hmm' Buffy spoke. "No windows."

"I'm sorry." She finished pasting the cream on her back and reached for the wash cloth to wipe her hands down. "You won't be spending much time in your room today any-who. Don't worry, you'll get plenty of fresh air!"

"Where am I going?"

"I-I'm not quite sure b-but you'll be fine. I promise!" Willow stuttered staring at the guards whose eyes hadn't left Buffy's form the whole time. She paused her movements and met Buffy's eyes as she finished wiping her hands clean. Pulling the dress back up Buffy twisted it once again so the cut of the dress showed more leg than front. The double doors to the room opened with a bang and she jumped, the two guards inside the room motioned for her to leave.

"I'll see you later. I promise."

Before Buffy could reply, the double doors were once again shut and she was flanked by guards as they marched her towards her next destination. She thought it was very unlikely that she would see Willow again, having no doubt in her mind that Spike had something terrible in store for her.

The guards marched in silence, the dreaded feeling in her stomach deepening as the minutes stretched out. One eyebrow raised as she was walked through another set of two very large wooden doors and into a huge room.

A Library?

"That will be all, thank you."

The voice came from a desk in the center of the room, papers and books lined the floor and desks surrounding it as an older man glanced up from beneath his glasses and waved a dismissive hand at the guards.

"Sir?" One asked standing his ground and not leaving her side.

"I said get out!" The men were hesitant at first, but when the man stood and stepped from behind the desk, uttering curse words they all scrambled and left the room. They left the big wooden doors open and stood to either side. "Useless bunch of idiots."

"What makes you think that was the smartest move to make?" Buffy asked, a grin coming to her face as she took in the whole room and saw the open windows and slowly walked backwards towards them.

They were on the second floor. Perfectly safe jumping distance.

"Congelo!"

A growl escaped Buffy's lips as he told her to freeze in Latin, body becoming stiff. He was another witch like Willow.

Well shit.

Giles paused as he stared at her face, something crossed his eyes before he followed the scar on her cheek and lips before meeting her eyes.

"I'm quite capable of looking after myself, Miss?"

"Summers. Buffy Summers." She ground out, limb still frozen.

He released his hold on her and motioned for her to take a seat where he had been when she had walked into the room.

"Rupert Giles, but please just call me Giles."

"Giles?" It was a whisper as she paused mid step to the desk. Rupert Giles, the man that she had been searching for for the last few weeks was standing right in front of her. Tears formed in Buffy's eyes as she took in his appearance. He reminded her so much of her father and she wondered for a few moments how close they had been. "Rupert Giles."

"Yes. I-I'm sorry, do I know you?" Giles took of his glasses and stared at the young woman who seemed to be tearing up in front of him.

"No." Buffy whispered sadly, thoughts running through her head.

Giles was in Spike's home. Was he working with Spike? Did she dare ask for his help? Was Giles here to make sure that she was incapable of fighting off Spike so he could take her to Angelus with ease.

Giles watched the emotions play across the young woman's face and frowned, he didn't recognize her, but there was something about her that seemed so familiar to him there and yet, he brushed it aside and spoke.

"I need your help in translating this document and I have been told that you are quite fluent in Latin."

"Yes." Buffy stated simply, slowly taking the seat Giles offered hesitantly. "My father taught me."

"Really?"

"Most of his books were in Latin."

"Well this should prove quite easy for you then. Would you mind?" Giles said excitedly standing next to Buffy while she sat and he pointed to the parchments on the desk.

When she lent forward to get a better look at the parchments she heard Giles sharp intake of breath as he stared at the red marks on her back. His jaw tensed as Buffy watched from over her shoulder as he trailed his eyes over the exposed parts of her back.

Curse this ridiculous see through dress.

His sympathetic gaze was broken when she turned back to the parchments and her heart skipped a bit.

With shaky breath Buffy spoke in a whisper.

"Where did you get these?"

She had seen these parchments before and her vision blurred as her eyes well up with tears. Picking one up with shaking hands, she traced the image of the woman in the center.

"You've seen this before?"

The surprise in his voice didn't go unnoticed and Buffy nodded and traced the faded Latin words, their English translation burnt into her memory. Her father had spent weeks pouring over this parchment trying to figure out why Angelus had taken her mother.

"My father spent weeks translating this after my mother was taken. Trying to figure out-" the paper fell from Buffy's hand's seconds after a fear fell, smudging the ink. "W-where did you get this?"

"It was given to me by a friend some years ago." Nodding sadly, she pushed the chair out and stood abruptly. Brushing away tears that slowly fell. "His name was Hank-" at the sob that escaped her lips he whispered the last two words. "Green."

Buffy's head dropped as she cried into her hands, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Hank was your father?" Giles started, confused. "Summers...earlier you said that your last name was Summers." He stepped forward and stared into Buffy's eyes, Hank's green eyes staring back at him.

"Summers was my mothers name."

"You're Elizabeth!" Giles was in shock as she nodded.

It was impossible.

"H-have you seen him? My f-father?" Buffy stammered, hope shining in her eyes only to be crushed out as Giles shook his head 'no'.

"The last time I saw him was when he gave me the scrolls and parchments and asked me to keep them hidden and safe. It was years ago!"

She was struggling to breathe, managing to stumble her way to the open window, grateful that Giles hadn't frozen her movements again, too much in a shocked state to move himself. She collapsed into the window seat and gasped for air.

The breeze that came with the setting sun rushed through the open window, tangling Buffy's hair, whipping it across her face causing it to stick to her wet cheeks.

"Is he dead?"

Spike let out a growl and was about to question his guards as to why they weren't standing guard inside the library. Instead, they were standing outside the doors when he heard Buffy's heartbroken voice. He slipped inside without making a noise and stood in the shadows, careful not to move too far into the room with the sun still setting and it's final rays hitting the desks.

"I don't know." Giles whispered, clearly shaken. He was walking over to where Buffy sat in the window seat and stood against the wall adjacent to the open window. They were oblivious to his presence, something Spike was thankful for. He watched on, the setting suns ray shining in her wet eyes.

She was crying.

"Sometimes I wish I was."

His demon silently howled in protest at hearing the defeat in her voice and Spike shifted his weight.

"Don't say that. Your parents wouldn't want that-" Giles started before Buffy cut him off

"They knew mom carried the blood and that I would eventually come into my powers. Why have me? Why?" Buffy let out a sob.

"Your father loved you, Elizabeth." Giles whispered remembering how fondly Hank always spoke of his daughter. There was a brief time when Hank had been in regular contact with him before he had all of a sudden requested a meeting in secret and demanded that he guard the parchments with his life.

"No one can know you have these! If they were to get into the wrong hands..."

"He loved you so much that he risked his life in giving me these parchments. If the wrong hands were to ever get hold of these." Giles motioned to the papers strewn across the desk and stared down at her, sadness in his eyes. He had never laid eyes on her before, but he knew Hank had a young child, a daughter. He hadn't understood half the words on the parchments and scrolls, the writing and statements erratic and out of order and in Latin, but he did as he was asked. Giles had thought at the time the image of the woman depicted on the parchments had been Joyce, Hank's wife who had been taken, having absolutely no idea that she had been from the chosen bloodline.

Blood that had been passed onto Buffy.

Hanks child was 'The One' depicted in the chosen's generation the prophecy spoke of.

"You have no idea how special you are."

"Mom always used to tell me I was special." Buffy whispered sadly, her hands shaking. "Special has given me nothing but pain and grief. Special had my mother ripped from my life at nine years old by Angelus and Drusilla. Do you have any idea what that was like?"

Angelus again, Spike silently growled. His hatred for the pillock seemed to grow as he felt his unbeating heart sink in his chest. When he had first seen Buffy laying and bleeding on the ground out in the woods after they had killed Riley's men and knocked him out he had paused. Did he leave her to die or take her back with him? His demon had taken one sniff and decided it wanted a taste, but Oz had jumped in his way and growled menacingly. Humanity. Always getting in the way of his dinner.

After discovering that Buffy was more than just another one of Angelus's pretty play things, he had been intrigued. Buffy was the missing link in his plan that would ultimately lead to Angelus's death once and for all, but the slight problematic discovery that Angelus had mated with his dark princess would prove to be a difficult bump to overcome.

That and the fact that the taste of Buffy's blood had sent his own demon into a raging lust. It wanted Buffy as his own. Drusilla be damned.

Life had seen it fit to deal Buffy the worst kinds of pain, coming in the forms of two very cruel and twisted vampires. Heart, head and demon torn he didn't know what to do. Listening to the way her voice shook when she spoke Spike's fingers itched at his side, his legs becoming restless as he forced himself not to move and walk towards her.

"I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you and I can't say I know what it was like to lose your mother like that, but I do know of grief. The pain that comes when your loved ones are ripped from this world. Angelus killed my wife and my five year old daughter and I will spend the rest of my life trying to exact my revenge on him for it."

Buffy heard Giles voice crack and looked up to see him wipe away a tear. There was silence for a few moments before she spoke again.

"I killed my first vampire at nine."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Nine! She killed her first vampire at the young age of nine!

Buffy had the potential to be quite strong and if she was given the right training Spike had no doubt in his mind that she would actually stand a chance at killing Angelus.

"I watched from the shadows like a coward as Angelus took my mother and left a minion to finish off my father. He just laid there so still that I thought he was dead. I shot the vampire with an arrow and he just crumbled... We ran for so long after that. I can't remember a time we spent more than a week in the same place. Father had been training me every day since that day, helping me become stronger, faster... better." She glanced at the now darkening sky. "But it didn't make a difference. We were betrayed and he found us again. Father got away, I remember that much, but I guess he wasn't worth chasing down after they had me. I was the real prize."

The hands in her lap were wet with fallen tears, tears that streaked from her cheeks to chin, Giles had stood in silence not daring to interrupt, listening intently.

"I remember him talking about you, you know. I remember the day he left to give you his papers while I hid. He said if I was ever in real trouble that you would help. That I could count on you-"

Spike couldn't take the silence anymore and moved past the desks, Giles looked his way and seemed startled to see him. He motioned towards the door with his head, signaling for him to leave before he followed a few seconds later to close the door. When Spike turned back around he wasn't surprised to see that Buffy hadn't lifted her head. She just sat staring into the night, the moon shining its small light down at her.

"I'm sorry, luv." He didn't know what possessed him to say it. Her back stiffened when he sat next to her, her heart racing as she met his eyes momentarily. "How is your back feeling?" He had noticed the dress she was wearing when he had entered the room, and smiled on in appreciation at seeing the low cut top and not seeing the thick bandages she had been wearing for the last few days.

"Better."

Her whispered responses made his heart sink. The scars she wore on her skin weren't the only scars she carried and it was a miracle that after being held captive by Angelus and Drusilla for so long that she wasn't insane herself.

"Are you hungry?"

"Why do you care? You cared just enough about my comfort in the carriage and now you're asking me if I'm hungry? I'm your prisoner yo-"

He slipped a hand through her arm and grasped her elbow lightly, coming to a stand. She certainly was something else.

Spike wasn't sure if it was because he had tasted her blood and the desperate want his demon had for her or if it was just the fact that he hated to see a woman cry when he spoke.

"The way I see it, this is the safest place for you to be right now."

Buffy couldn't argue with him on that point.

With the freezing cold temperatures winter was bringing in, it wasn't safe to travel outdoors and she knew Angelus would be looking for her again. With Spike holding her in his house surrounded by guards day and night she knew he wouldn't be breaking in without a large fight. Still she couldn't help but ask.

"So I'm free to leave?'

"Not quite." Spike smirked, the hand on her arm going stiff. Just because he had decided to be nice did not mean he was letting her out of his sight. Buffy was his bargaining chip to get his dark princess back. Once Drusilla was his again he along with the help of Giles and Oz, would finally kill Angelus.

The hatred in Buffy's voice towards Angelus, Spike knew she was more than willing to help kill him if he asked, but he paused. Drusilla was no doubt on Buffy's kill list and there was no way he was going to let her harm a single hair on Dru's perfect head.

"So I'm your prisoner still."

"Yes, but I'm no' going to keep you locked up in a dark cold dungeon if that's wha' you're asking."

"It might as well be." Buffy grumbled, thinking to the pitch black room that awaited her. "Would it be too much to ask for a room with a window at least?"

Spike seemed to think it over before nodding, opening the double doors to the library and escorting her out.

"I will grant your request on one condition."

"Which is?"

"I have a lot of questions that need answering."

"I'll try my best to answer them."

"I also have a proposition for you."

Buffy waited for him to continue, but when it never came she frowned. Spike was acting strange and she knew there was a plot forming in that head of his.

They walked through the castle, his cool arm never leaving hers. Buffy scratched at her hip a few times, a movement Spike didn't seem to notice. The bite on her hip was becoming warm again, faster than it had any other night. Buffy's brows furrowed.

They wound their way down a staircase and into a dining hall. A long table was situated in the middle, a fire burning in the fireplace off to the side of the room. There were only two place settings set out, one on the end of the table and one adjacent to it making Buffy wonder for the first time since she had been taken from the carriage as to where Tara and Oz were.

As they walked closer to the table Spike slipped his arm from hers and pulled out her chair. She raised one eyebrow at his chivalry and sat down, watching his every move as he walked to his own chair at the end of the table and sat down.

What are you planning?

"The former Mr. Finn tells me that Angelus wanted to try and 'breed' you-"

What?

"Former?"

"Which is absurd because vampire can't have children. Yes, I got rather impatient and killed him." His blue crystalline eyes met hers and her shoulders tensed, breath quickening. Spike raised one eyebrow. She was angry. "I would have though' you'd want Finn dead for what he's done to you."

"He said something to me before you- he said Angelus turned my mother."

Spike was silent, not sure what to say. Buffy looked so small, sitting in her chair, her shoulders sinking, her eyes watering. So fragile. He coughed and stumbled over his words before collecting himself.

"If he did... she's not your mother anymore." Spike turned away and Buffy thought she saw something in his eyes, regret, sadness. A memory from his past?

She sat in silence for a few moments as Spike stared at her, obviously waiting for her response to his earlier statement, but she still couldn't think.

Riley was dead.

Buffy's heart sank upon hearing Spike's words, any hope of finding out the truth about her mother from Riley had been crushed in a matter of seconds. She had believed her mother to be dead for a very long time, but could not help the hope that had shone in her heart at the thought of her mother still being alive.

Vampire or not, part of her would still be her mother. At least she hoped.

Spike knew nothing.

"Why wait two years?" Spikes voice broke her from her thoughts and she hmm'd in response. "Angelus had you for nearly two years. He obviously wanted to-" Spike raised his eyebrow as his eyes raked up and down her body causing her to shiver in her seat.

'Breed her' as he had so elegantly said it before.

The prophecy said that the chosen one would bring forth one, a child that would possess the strength of both the chosen and the immortal.

But that was only half of the parchment.

The flip-side of that parchment is what had hidden the secrets Angelus needed to make the prophecy work, but there was no way in hell Buffy was translating those words for anyone.

He had figured out one part of the prophecy though.

"The becoming, the um, the parchment Giles wants me to translate. That's what Angelus was waiting for."

A few maids walked into the room, arms laden with dishes and goblets of drink and Buffy was thankful for the interruption. Her belly let forth a loud grumble as the smell of freshly cooked meat assaulted her senses, reminding her that she hadn't eaten all day.

"And the becoming is?" Spike asked in amusement, watching as no longer than two seconds passed before she was digging into her plate.

"Quite a rush actually. Oh my god this is amazing!" Buffy's eyes closed as a look of absolute bliss covered her face, not caring if the food was laced with sleeping powder. If Spike wanted the answers to his questions about the prophecy, then he was going to need her awake and alert.

Spike watched on, holding in his grin as Buffy shoveled the food into her mouth as if it were her last meal. He had seen her thin figure every time Willow and Tara changed her bandages and with a swish of his hands, motioned for one of his maids to fetch more food. The maid nodded and was gone almost instantly only to return moments later with another full plate.

"It's a rush of power, that's what the image on the front is supposed to symbolize. Everyone in the bloodline gets it at a certain age, but you have to be pure for what Angelus is trying to do. Or what the prophecy says can be done. It's kind of confusing actually." She paused mid chew, staring at the meat on her fork, but almost looking right through it as lines and passages from the scroll rushed through her head.

None of it ever did seem to make any sense.

"Pure?"

"Hmm? Oh, you know..."

"As in pure blood?"

"N-not quite." Her cheeks flushed when she met his quizzical gaze and his eyebrows widened in realization.

"You've never had sex?" Buffy's cheeks turned beet red and his demon purred. "You're missing out, luv." His smirk sent her eyes downcast as she stared intently at her plate of food, reaching for more of the meat that the maid had brought out. There were a few moments of silence before he picked up his glass and took a long sip before speaking. "Wow."

Buffy glanced at the plate of food in front of Spike for the first time and noticed that he hadn't touched a thing from it, only sipping slowly from his cup. She glanced at her own food and swallowed the mouthful she had very slowly with a gulp.

What has he put in my food now?

"I already ate." Spike met her eyes from the rim of his cup and grinned a toothy smile, remembering the cries and please from Riley's lips as he had drained him dry.

Buffy looked down and tensed, knowing he spoke of Riley. Riley had been hers to question, there were things she needed to know and now she never would.

She sighed.

"So for the prophecy to work the woman has to be of the chosen blood and be a virgin for it to work-"

"Hmm, newly chosen." Buffy frowned and sent one more glance down at her food, pausing.

"It can actually be done?"

"I've never heard of it working before, the text is very confusing." Her brow furrowed into a frown. "My father knew more. He thought they were about my mom. He had all of the scrolls from the past on the bloodlines, but I never got the chance to read them. But I guess Giles has them now." She trailed off, the mood in the room dropping even further.

She thought she heard Spike curse at himself, gripping the table and taking a deep breath before he spoke, coughed and spoke louder.

"I'm sorry for wha's happened to you, luv."

His sincerity had her speechless. Unconsciously her hand went to her throat. Was this the same man who, no less than thirty-two hours ago had his arm wrapped around her throat strangling her.

"Sorry about tha'." He said sheepishly, a look almost akin to shame crossing his face. "I've been looking for Finn for a very long time. Been waiting to kill the pillock for the part he played in all of this."

"The war started over Drusilla didn't it?"

"Technically Angelus started it, bloody wanker." He growled, eyes flashing gold as his demon cried for blood before he shook it aside and his eyes flashed to blue once more. Meeting her gaze, he spoke gleefully. "Want to help me kill him?"

"Get in line." She grinned back. "It's why I was headed this way, why Riley was so close to your lands I guess. I was coming to find Rup- Giles. I needed his help and I knew after he found out whose daughter I was that he would. I want Angelus dead." Buffy's eyes narrowed menacingly. "And Drusilla. You've already done me the favour of killing Riley, albeit a little too soon before I could question him. He was the first on my list, but Drusilla is next. Mark my words."

Spike couldn't help but give her a warning growl. He had spent over a hundred years with his dark princess. She had turned him, given him a new life and there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't plot to kill Angelus and win her back again. The mating claim they had placed on each other would be difficult to overcome, but it could be challenged.

And challenge it he would.

"Drusilla is-"

"You have no idea what she did to me. What they both planned to do to me."

His demon thrummed beneath his chest, begging to take charge. God she smelled delicious.

"I can' apologize for what she has done to you, but there are things in my world tha' you will never understand."

"Things I won't understand." Buffy shook her head, fists clenching and unclenching with silent rage.

"She's my creator. My make. My sire. There is always going to be a bond between us that can' ever be broken."

"There are things in my world that you will never understand." Buffy's eyes welled with tears and she took a deep breath forcing them at bay. Memories of her time being held captive flooding her mind.

The way Drusilla and Angelus had taunted her and tortured her, sometimes not even needing to touch her to make her scream for another person's innocent life. She would never forget the day Drusilla had savagely ripped into her side, her bite deep, hands scraping at her flesh as if she was digging out her insides before Angelus finally came and pulled her off.

"You'll never make my daddy pretty little dollies. You're just like your mummy. Broken! Ohhhh but the pixies they whisper to me. I can fix you, they say. It will all be better soon-"

She shook her head, shaking the memory away, her hip burning.

"You are a fool to think that she will ever come back to you."

"She's my dark princess."

"She's insane." Buffy whispered, no longer hungry. Pushing her chair loudly back from the table before standing and walking towards the doors they had entered through. Her request about a room with windows forgotten, Buffy welcomed the guards that surrounded her as they marched her to her room.

Leaving a torn Spike behind her not knowing the battle that was raging inside his head.

There was no wash cloth or plate on the chest at the end of the bed, just a small fire burning low in the corner of the room. Willow waddled in some time later and tried to engage her in conversation as she lathered the cream on her back once more. Buffy stood in silence, staring at the crimson bed sheets and the patterns on the stones of the walls. If Spike wanted help killing Angelus she would gladly give it, but he was a fool to think that she would never take a pass at Drusilla if one was left open.

The pair of master vampires had ruined her life, kidnapped her mother and quite possibly turned her into one of their own. Her fathers whereabouts where unknown.

Is he even alive?

She would die before she let them hurt anyone else.

She whispered her thanks to Willow and barely spared her a glance as she waddled from the room before slipping into the cold sheets of her bed. Buffy stared at the ceiling for minutes or hours she wasn't sure, time seemed to drag on forever as thoughts and memories rushed to the surface.

She missed her father.

Giles had seemed to know her father quite well and she wondered how close they had been. It must have been pretty close for her father to hand over the parchments and scrolls into his care. She wondered where he was now and if he was still alive. The last place she had seen him had been burnt to ruin, all that was left was ash and rubble.

With a sigh Buffy rolled over and pulled a spare pillow to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. She would not cry. She had been doing too much of that lately.

You're getting weak Summers.

The last memory she had before slumber took her was of her parents. They were laughing with her as they tumbled on the grass one summery day, many many years ago.

"You're special, Elizabeth and one day not too far from now you're going to do great things."

"But Mumma I'm already great, watch!"

She rolled on the hills with her father, tackling him to the ground and giggling when he fell with her.

"Yes you are my precious little one."

"It will all be better soon, you will see."

Eyes.

Yellow eyes.

Drusilla's eyes seemed to stare right through Buffy as she swayed to a beat that only she could hear, her demon face on the surface. "Break it down and make it bleed. You're all wrong! Wrong, wrong, WRONG!"

The scream that tore through her lips at the pain of Drusilla's bite was deafening, her right hip on fire. She tried to shake her off, her hand's bound above her head and tied to the wall leaving her with nothing to push off. Drusilla just bit down harder, her claws digging into the flesh of her hip as she struggled against her restraints, screams tearing through her.

They never bit her, Drusilla was always ranting on about how she needed to be pure, untouched.

"What are you doing!"

Buffy struggled against Drusilla, fighting to detach her claws and mouth from her hip as Angelus came roaring into the room. She had been sure after the last lashing she had been given that she was going to die, but this was worse. The pain was blinding.

"I'm fixing her. It will all be better soon. You will see!" Drusilla lifted her head for a few moments only to tear back into her hip with new fever, earning another scream from Buffy.

"She's mine!"

She was torn from her hip, Drusilla's claws ripping apart at her flesh. Drusilla sat at Angelus's feet, blood dripping from her lips as she spoke.

"But she tastes so much better now. Don't you want some?" Drusilla stood slowly, sliding up close to his body before licking his lips with her bloodied tongue. "She's ours." Her whispered words sent a chill through Buffy's body as Angelus's yellow eyes turned to stare at her. His gaze hungry. "Mummy has fixed everything. Alone in the dark she stumbles." Drusilla giggled like a child. "But I'll always know. The pixies whisper where she hides."

She laughed gleefully and clapped her hands as Angelus picked her up and swung her down onto the bed opposite to where Buffy was shackled and bleeding, a pool of blood forming at her feet. Her face streaked with tears, her hip on fire.

She watched it happen then. Something she would never understand. Angelus took Drusilla with a raw primal need, her legs spread wide as he pumped away. He bit her repeatedly, the worst of which was into her breast, viciously tearing her flesh and roaring his claim to her as mate. She heard Drusilla scream her response before she passed out from blood loss.

She would never forget those eyes.

............................................................


A glass shattering scream woke Spike hours later, followed a few seconds later by a distressed yell. The voice strained and in a panic. He followed the screams until they led him to Buffy's door, the guards standing watch looking almost too frightened to go inside.

"Useless." Spike growled, pushing past. He silently agreed with Giles on the fact that he needed to make some more minions. One look inside the dark room and he spun, nostrils flaring, face hard. "Get the witch."

The guards raced off in a flash. The panic and fear in the room made his demon relish, the smell of sweat and tears assaulting his senses as he rushed to the bed where Buffy was thrashing wildly.

Blood.

His demon moaned and came forward.

Buffy was bleeding.

Her hands were scratching and scraping at the bite mark on her hip. It was bright red and when he leaned down to touch it he jumped back, startled. Buffy growled loud and low in her throat when he touched her skin, legs kicking madly. She managed to land a kick on his ribs, successfully knocking him from the bed before she cried out, her hips rising from the mattress.

His demon growled before he sat back up, blurred and unfocused eyes meeting his.

"Stop! Make it stop!"

"Make what stop?" He tried to grab her wrists and keep them from clawing at her flesh, but she managed to get one hand free and punched him in the chest. He growled and another yell tore through her lips, hips rising from the bed again as tears fell from her eyes.

She was in pain and he didn't know what to do. His demon cried out in distress.

"Good heavens! What an earth did you do to the poor girl?"

Giles rushed into the room, he too having head the screams. By her volume he was surprised that everyone in the castle wasn't at her door.

"Nothing! I haven' done a bloody thing! Heard screams and found her like this. Looks like she's been at it a while too."

"What's wrong with her?" Willow puffed, her arm slipping out from Oz's as she waddled into the room, jumping slightly when Spike thrust an arm out before she got too close. He grabbed Buffy's arms again and pinned them to the bed in an attempt to stop her from lashing out. The last thing they needed was for Buffy to deliver a blow to Willow's pregnant belly.

"What is that!" Giles asked, eyes wide as he moved further into the room, squinting against the dim light. He stared at the red raw scratch marks that surrounded the old bite wound.

"Tha's where Dru bit her."

"Sh-she was sleeping fine the last few nights." Tara, always quite as ever had stepped into the room without anyone noticing.

"Let me see." Giles said moving to step closer before Spike asked Oz to help hold her down.

"I gave her sleeping powder every night for her back- tonight she ate with Spike and when I came to put more cream on her back she didn't seem to be in any pain. I didn't give her any!" Willow said in a panic, her voice the epitome of worry.

"And before that?"

"Before?"

"Before you took her."

"Finn had her."

"And we can all assume he had her knocked unconscious." Giles peered at the bite mark, jumping back when another scream tore from Buffy's lips when Spike moved the material of her night shift up to get a better look.

Clearly she did not like his hands anywhere near her by the way she growled and kicked.

Spike couldn't help but stare. There was something about it that called to him, he had felt it the night he had first laid eyes on the mark. His eyes flashed yellow and his demon thrust forward at seeing the blood surrounding the mark.

Buffy thrashed her hips and legs again when he reached a tentative hand out to touch her.

"She's stronger." Oz stated, brows furrowed as he struggled to hold Buffy's legs down.

"You don't think Drusilla-" Giles asked, a pointed look Spikes way.

"Tha's insane! She would never-"

"Yes, but-"

"You really think she'd-"

"She's insane. I have no doubt she would." Giles spoke fearfully.

Willow who had been pacing, hand on her belly turned to glare at the two men having their conversation.

"What did she do to her? I can try and cast a spell? M-maybe that will work? We could always knock her out! Gosh that's a terrible idea. What abou- Spike what are you doing!" Willow yelled, eyes wide as Spike delivered a punch to Buffy's temple rendering her limp.

........................................................................................................


Miles away in the dark confines of her own candlelit room a master vampiress screamed out her rage when the connection she had been working on for the last three nights was broken once again.


........................................................................................................


"Bloody good idea, Red."

"Yes, well that only fixes the problem momentarily I'm afraid." Giles sighed, pulling his glasses from his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. His head hurt from all the screaming.

"Wh-what did Drusilla do to her?" Tara asked, stepping up closer to the bed.

"Rupes thinks she marked her. It's a kind of claim of sorts if you will."

"But I thought she was mated to Angelus."

"Different kind of bite, luv. Although this one was done in a very nasty way." Spike felt the heat radiating from the bite at her hip and placed his palm flat on the scars to sooth them. Buffy let out a moan in her sleep and rolled to the touch. He raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. "Dru was gifted as a seer before she was turned. She can mark her minions or prey-" his eyebrows furrowed. "Helps her locate them in the hunt. You don' think-"

"She was trying to call her out." Giles finished, nodding his response. "Quite possibly."

"Why now? Why not just do this the minute she escaped?" Oz asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"The hunt is part of the fun."

"Possibly because Riley was on her trail, but he's dead no thanks to your impatience." Giles growled, glancing at Spike making his frustrations known that he was none to please that Spike had killed Riley Finn before he could properly question him.

"So Spike kills Riley and now Drusilla is trying to locate Buffy from a bite?" Willow asked, worrying her lip.

"Correct."

"So how do we stop it?"

"You can't." Giles said quite matter of factly, emphasizing the 'you.' "Spike is the only one who can stop it from happening again."

"You're not actually suggesting what I think you are old man." Spike growled, eyes dark. There was no way in hell he was going to do what Giles was suggesting.

Spike felt the demon jump with glee when Giles spoke.

"It's the only way." Giles pointed to the red scratches on Buffy's hips where tiny pools of blood were slowly beginning to form in spots. "You know what needs to be done and you had better do it soon. More nights like this and she will tear herself apart."

Spike was furious. How dare Giles even suggest what his demon thought was a great idea. It knew what needed to be done. Hell his demon had wanted to do it the moment it had tasted the power in Buffy's blood.

Ever since that first taste the small woman in front of him had wormed her way into his chest and he was finding it every increasingly hard to fight off his demons constant onslaught.

"It's the only way to break her thrall-"

"I'm not claiming the bloody bint!"

"Giles!"

"Wow, you're seriously-"

"Wh-what's a claim bite?."

"Everybody get out." Spike said tersely and slowly, voice low. "Out!"

With a jump there was a flurry of movement before everyone rushed from the room.

"I don't make my suggestion lightly. I know what this would mean. That young woman is about the closest thing I would consider family and-" Giles paused at the door. "If you seriously want a chance at killing Angelus, then she's they key. Right now Drusilla has her claws in deep-"

"Get out." Spike spoke softly, closing his eyes when the door closed and he was left in silence.

Spike stared at Buffy's sleeping form with an intense gaze after everyone left. He wasn't sure how long he sat by her side on the bed, but the fire in the corner of the room now burned low and the candles that littered the room had wax melting in piles at their bases.

There was a dark mark forming on her temple where he had delivered the blow that had knocked her unconscious and with soft hands he reached out and swept the hair from her face. Buffy flinched in her sleep, her features scrunching as his hands touched her bruise.

Spike trailed his eyes over her still body from the bloodied nightgown that covered her torso to where it was bunched in a tangled in a ripped mess at her waist. Her red hip stood out against the contrast of the white gown she wore and the crimson sheets she lay on. Droplets of blood had started to pool where she had scratched her nails in deep trying to escape her pain.

Pain that Drusilla had caused her.

Pain that she would continue to feel if the mark wasn't challenged and broken.

His demon growled as his hands grasped her smaller ones in his own and brushed across the now drying blood on her knuckles and fingers, Giles words still fresh in his mind.

"If you seriously want a chance at killing Angelus then she's they key. Right now Drusilla has her claws in deep-"

His brows furrowed as Buffy's lips quivered and her body shuddered, her own eyebrows forming a frown as she let out a whimper of pain. He was torn.

On one hand he said to hell with it. Why shouldn't he just take her to Angelus and offer up as a swap, prophecy be damned. It was Buffy for Drusilla. His dark princess would be back with him. He let out a defeated sigh as he realized that Drusilla would still be mated to the poof.

Mated.

Not a word within the vampire community that was taken lightly. When a vampire took another as his mate they became connected eternally. A bonding and molding of two demons becoming one. Spike had spent over one hundred years asking and trying to claim Drusilla as his, but she never accepted his bite.

Spikes demon didn't seem to protest at the prospect of taking Buffy as his mate, but he still was hesitant. No vampire had ever claimed and mated a human before, let alone one from the chosen bloodline.

"Bloody unheard of." he mumbled, running a hand down his face and pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

His heart would always belong to his dark princess, but staring at the slumbering form of Buffy as she slept he couldn't help the pull he felt towards her. There was something about her that was different, sure her blood was intoxicating and she was obviously the one the prophecy said would bring into this world a being of great strength. Prophecy aside, Buffy was still strong and would no doubt be a key element when in came to killing Angelus.

Without Buffy's knowing Drusilla could control her. At any point in time and from any amount of distance. It was a weakness Spike couldn't have in his house, not when he knew how valuable Buffy was to Angelus. Drusilla was plaguing Buffy's mind with nightmares, calling her forth and Buffy was struggling to hold off her tormentor. If he really did what Giles suggested there would be no turning back. If he broke the claim his sire had over her, then Buffy would be his.

Spike stared at Buffy's soft round features with a scrutinizing gaze. In her sleep she seemed so innocent, nothing like the charged up fighter he knew she was. Without realizing it he moved down the bed and laid his head on her belly, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart as she slumbered. He reached out a hand and trailed it across her still warm hip and his demon purred at the way her heart skipped a few beats.

Spike breathed in her scent, blood, sweat, tears and a hint of vanilla coated her skin. He closed his eyes, hands unconsciously left trailing across her hip. God she had such soft skin. The steady beating of Buffy's heart and the warmth her body was washing over him like a blanket as he nuzzled into her stomach had his eyes closing, his hand still trailing small circles across the bite mark on her hip.

Yes, he decided before he too succumbed to sleep. Buffy would be his. He would break the hold Drusilla had over her and claim her as his.

His mate.

His equal.

Together they would destroy Angelus.

...........................................................................................................


Giles had been awake for hours, unable to fall back asleep after Spike had yelled at him to get out of Buffy's room. He had wandered back to the library and sat at his desk with the parchments strewn out in front of him, his own words echoed in his head.

"If you seriously want a chance at killing Angelus then she's they key."

Buffy was the key to finally killing Angelus, but there was something about the prophecy that was bothering him. Something was missing and he knew the answer was somewhere in Hank's scribbles.

"Into every generation a Chosen One is born. She alone will bring forth one that possesses the strength of both chosen and immortal. She is the beginning and the end. She is the Slayer."

He ripped the glasses from his face and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on and he let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. The glow from the morning sun was slowly beginning to peak in through the library's large windows and he was thankful for the little warmth that it offered him.

He took another deep breath and mentally prepared himself to once again pour over the parchments in front of him. He had managed to separate them into three different piles. Those written in Latin and directly relating to the main text sat at the top of the pile, the prophecy itself outlining 'The Becoming.' The next pile he couldn't seem to link to the prophecy at all, being texts about vampire lineage and the two fighting covens. The third pile consisted of all Hanks notes, handwritten in his rushed scrawl that Giles knew he too himself did when he got so excited about deciphering a text that his hands often ran away with him.

However, the parchment sitting on the top of the pile stood out among the rest. It was written in Hank's writing this much he was sure of, but instead of a rushed scrawl these words were specifically placed, almost laid out like one would poetry.


"Isn't she golden,

Shining in the light

Drops are scattered by the harvest of gold

Passing through like morning sun

A waiting to be cast along

Sowing the grain

Fields of the same

Plant to grow

The deed is done."


"Blast it!" It didn't make a lick of sense and with a frustrated puff of air Giles once again tore his glasses off his face and stood up. He needed some fresh air, knowing that sometimes if you were too close to a situation or problem you weren't able to solve it was best to take a step back and look at if from another perspective.

Thinking outside the box as it were.

Buffy woke to a pounding headache.

Trying to move and raise her arms to her head to find out what was causing the throbbing against her temple she found herself unable. It was then that she realized her arms were stuck by her sides, pinned down by a heavy weight.

What the hell!

A sharp stab of panic shot through her, calming only momentarily when she felt the soft familiar mattress beneath her.

I'm still in my room.

She remembered going to bed after her disastrous dinner with Spike and remembered falling into a restless sleep, plagued by nightmares that kept her tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning and then there was nothing but darkness.

But, she was not alone now.

There was a grumble that sounded from down near her hip, a sound that wasn't hers. She let out a groan of protest when she tried to move her hips and a throb of pain echoed through her bones. Buffy tried to wriggle her legs free of the weight that kept her pinned down and failed. Her body was sore, her hip aching.

She reached out tentatively and felt for her waist, eyes going wide when her hands came in contact with hair. She ran her fingers through the tangled mass for a few seconds and her body tensed up when the person at her hip moved, the head nuzzling into her skin.

Oh my god!

Buffy's eyes were wide, snatching her hand back up as if she had been burned. The face nuzzling against her side made another noise.

Is that... purring? What the-

The arm that had been across her torso and was the cause of pinning her down moved, fingers trailing along her stomach before moving across to her opposite thigh. The owners fingers lingered there for a few moments, the head that lay at her hip stilled its movement before something cold and wet struck her skin, her hip burning hot in an angry protest.

Something changed within her and she let out her own growl and a startled shout before she jumped, arms and limbs flailing as she pushed the person off of the bed. They fell with a shout and Buffy couldn't help but slide off the other side of the bed to hide on the floor, her head just above the mattress as she tried to peer over the top.

"Bloody hell, luv. Wha' you do that for!"

"S-Spike?" Buffy's heart was racing a million miles an hour in her chest. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Me? You're the one who pushed me off the bloody bed!"

Buffy couldn't control her breathing, her breaths coming short and in panicked gasps.

What was Spike doing in my bed? What has he done to me now?

Spike stared, his gaze quizzical and taken aback when her eyes flashed a yellow-gold before him.

"Exactly! The bed! My bed! What were you doing in my bed?"

She moved to push herself up off the mattress and for the first time glanced at her blood smeared hands, the sight doing little to stop the racing in her chest. She glanced at the mattress where, moments ago, she had been sleeping and noticed it too was smeared with dry blood. Her head ached and her chest felt tight.

What did he do to me?

"Buffy-"

She didn't realize Spike had moved to come and stand almost in front of her before he was only a few feet away. Her eyes widened in sheer panic when she saw a faint hint of red on his cheek and lips.

"S-Stay away from me!"

Spike reached out for her and instantly regretted it the moment his muscles twitched to move. Buffy's yellow-gold eyes narrowed and focused on him, brows closing together as her lips formed a sharp line. With all the strength she possessed in her tiny frame she pushed his arm away before delivering an uppercut blow to his stomach. Buffy grabbed onto his head before he could retaliate and smashed it against one of the bed posts, watching him crumble to the floor with a thud.

Buffy knew one thing was for certain. She couldn't stay here another minute. It wasn't safe.

Spike had told her over dinner that he would help her kill Angelus, but she knew that where the crazed Drusilla was concerned that he would never see reason. Spike had drugged her with sleeping potions numerous times, locked her in a room with no windows and she suspected after last nights ease at confessing her truths to him that he had also laced her meal with a truth serum.

He was a liar and a manipulator and couldn't be trusted.

Especially not when she had just woken up to him laying across her hip, her hands bloodied from fighting him off as he'd tried to feed from her and her head aching from a suspected blow to the head that he had no doubt delivered.

"You taste even better."

Buffy knew from his words that haunted her that he had indeed tasted her blood before. She rushed around the room and grabbed the garments that she had been traveling in for weeks. The items had been cleaned, but the leather and materials were well worn and had definitely seen better days. She didn't care, the blow she had delivered would not keep Spike down for long and she planned on being gone when he woke.

I can't stay here another minute.

Tossing her ripped and bloodied night gown onto the bed she changed, tying the laces of her boots as she thought of her plan.

She didn't know where Giles or his companions Willow, Oz and Tara fit into Spike's world, but if they were his accomplices, then they too could not be trusted. She was no ones puppet to be tugged, manipulated and played with.

If she wanted justice and vengeance for the wrongs done to her and her family, then she would do it alone.

Walking around the room she blew out the remainder of the candles that burned, wisps of smoke rising and filling the room with their smell. She slunk to the door and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was silent on the other side, but that didn't mean her guards didn't still hold their watch.

She tried the door and to her surprise it opened with ease, not locked at all.

It swung open silently, allowing her to sneak and hide on the inside against the wall, shadowed in darkness waiting to see if anyone came in. Two guards entered.

Minions.

Buffy could feel their strength, the little of it that they emitted. They wouldn't be hard to take down.

It only took a few seconds before they spotted their master crumbled on the floor, their eyes searching the room for her.

Buffy was too quick, she pushed one guard in the back, grabbing his sword and slicing away with ease before the second rushed to attack her. Disposing of her would-be guards was easy and she knew that she would get further away than she had ever escaped from Angelus before. The two guards lay in a heap on the floor and for a moment she just stared, eyes narrowing before snatching a small blade from one of their belts before dusting them both. The only positive thing to come from her captive stay with Spike was that at least he had been generous enough to feed her proper meals.

Her body was full and plenty with energy.

For that, I am grateful.

She spared glance at Spike's form before fleeing the room.

Buffy slipped down the winding stairs and tried to remember her way through the halls. She got only made it a few meters before hearing voices down the hall and had to backpedal up a flight of stairs to avoid getting caught. It took a few wrong turns before she finally rounded another corner and saw the familiar big double doors that led to the library she had been taken to the day before.

Turning the handle she cringed when it creaked, slipping in silently and shutting the creaking door behind her. Eyes scanning the large room for occupants and seeing it empty she took a deep and calming breath and continued on. Disregarding the papers strewn across Giles desk, she made her way to the window seat that she had been sitting at the day before and pushed open the glass windows and climbing up onto the ledge.

"Buffy?"

The voice sounding her name behind her startled her and she spun around quickly. Her eyes met Giles' for the briefest of seconds before setting her lips in a firm line, heart lurching in her chest as she jumped.

Two stories wasn't a life threatening leap for her to make, but that being said it still hurt like hell. Buffy landed with a thud and a gasp, her hand slipping on the metal of the small blade that she had dropped in the fall.

"Buffy!"

Without looking behind her she got up and ran, blood dripping from her hand and onto the damp ground beneath her. It was early morning still, but the sun was up enough to light her way, the light bouncing off her hair like a golden halo.

"Buffy! Come back!"

If Giles hadn't been startled by seeing Buffy jump out of his window, he may have thought to look at the parchments laying strewn across his desk.


"Isn't she golden,

Shining in the light

Drops are scattered by the harvest of gold

Passing through like morning sun

A waiting to be cast along...."

Buffy made it to the forest's edge at a full sprint and only once she was covered by the trees shadows did her pace slow down to a jog. Her hand stung from the cut that the small blade had delivered when it slipped from her grasp upon impact with the ground after her jump from the window ledge two stories up.

She jogged on the path for a few minutes, checking over her shoulder often and watching as the castle faded slowly into the distance behind her.

Her pace was steady, feet thumping away on the rough dirt path, breath heavy with exertion and coming in puffs as she supplied her adrenaline hyped body with oxygen.

The path.

Her heart skipped a beat and eyes widened when she realized the fatal mistake she was making by running on the path. A path that from the well worn carriage tracks and horse shoe imprints that were prominent in the ground was one that was used and occupied quite regularly.

Quickly darting off the path and into the nearby cover of the bushes and trees, she spent another fifteen minutes at a jog. The further she ran the harder it was to move forward, the forest getting more and more dense around her as she pushed inwards. Buffy let out a hiss as a nearby tree branch whisked her across the face leaving her cheek feeling like she had just been slapped. Her hand stung still from the cut from the small blade. Sparing a glance towards the main cause of her pain had her slowing to a walk, eyebrows knitting in concern. Her palm was bleeding freely. She pressed against her wound and scanned the shrubs and tree's around her for a solution.

There has to be something around here I can use!

Her father, a man of many talents and endless words of wisdom had taught her many things over the years of traveling on the road and one of them which had saved her life on more than one occasion was his knowledge of plants and their medicinal properties. The plant Buffy was looking for in particular was the Yarrow plant. It grew on dry ground and she knew she was pressing her luck to find any in these woods at this time of year. The plant mainly blooming in spring and fall.

It was almost winter now and her chances of finding any were slim.

Hand squeezed tight into a fist as keen eyes scanned the ground, leaves and bushes around her, lighting up with a smile when she found what she was looking for.

Jackpot!

Bristly little branches clustered together with a handful of small white and pale yellow flowers scattered amongst its leaves that lie tucked in the shadows, hidden underneath the awning of a low hanging tree branch. The winter nights and morning dew had the leaves moist and Buffy knew she wouldn't get crushed leaves out of this particular batch properly.

Guess I'll settle for the second best option.

Buffy scrunched up her face in disgust at the thought as she gripped a few of the flowers from their bush and crushed them in her injured hand before placing them in her mouth to chew together into a paste. The taste was bitter and not one she was fond of at all, still it would help stop the bleeding in her hand and to stop the wound from getting any infections. She spat the now mushed leaves back into her injured hand after chewing them for a few minutes and made sure to spread the chunky paste over her wound. The small blade that had done the damage sat tucked into the leather of her belt loop and with her good hand she pulled it loose and walked over to a nearby tree. Making swift work of cutting loose damp bark off a nearby tree, Buffy set to work in wrapping the bark around her hand to act as a bind.

It wasn't a bandage or a solution by any means, but she had no other option. She had little weapons and only the clothes on her back which she dare not rip for a bandage with the weather taking a turn for its worst.

Birds squawked in the trees, high in the canopy a few feet from where she stood binding her hand and she cast a cautionary glance their way, watching as they scattered into the sky above. She hadn't heard anything, no crunching of boots on the ground or body's moving through the trees, but still it was best not to linger.

Spike may not be able to leave his mansion during daylight, but he like Angelus would have day guards.

Buffy ran.

.........................................................


Giles had sprinted towards the room Buffy had been sleeping in and came to a staggering halt just inside the doorway upon seeing the two piles of ash that scattered the floor. His heart lurched in his chest, stomach dropping as thoughts of his friend being dead flashed before him. In his peripheral vision, a fleck of movement in the shadows caught his eye as a blonde head poked its way into the light the open doorway offered.

"What the bloody hell did you do to her?"

"Wha'?"

Spike's hand gripped the closest bed post he could reach, his head foggy as he struggled to stand, thoughts jumbled. He found himself thrust up against the post with 'Ripper' staring into his eyes, one hand around his throat and the other pushing against his chest before he could blink.

"Did you bite her?"

"No! Wha' the hell gave you th-"

Giles narrowed his eyes and pushed firm against Spike's throat making him sputter before he stepped back and released his hold. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and threw it at Spike's chest which he caught with ease, indicating to him that his face and mouth were covered in blood.

"Must have rubbed off when I fell asleep. Bloody bint went right mental when she woke up."

"Think about what she has been through for the last two years let alone the last few days and nights. Waking up next to you with blood smeared all over your face, knowing what you are and her hips bleeding, hands covered in blood. She had every right to go mental on you. The look on her face-" Giles threw his hands in the air, letting out a growl. "You have no idea how much danger she is in. If Angelus gets his hands on her-"

"He won't." Spike growled, already pushing his way out of the room, snorting at seeing the two piles of ash laying on the floor under his feet. She was a fighter, tough as nails and as much as he was pissed off at her for knocking him out and running away, he felt almost proud.

With the proper training she would be amazing.

"Damn right he won't!" Giles followed in his wake, fixing the glasses that sat atop his nose as his eyes and lip set in a firm line. "I made a promise to her father." He took a shaky breath. "If Angelus gets to her before I find her, so help me god-"

"You don't need to remind me again how important she is. She's vulnerable right now, Dru's dug her way into her mind deep." Spike stopped just inside the library at seeing the double windows open and the morning sun filtering in. He inhaled and could smell the scent of Buffy's blood blowing in with the breeze, eyes darkening. "Too deep."

"What do you mean?" The way Spike spoke the last words made Giles pause, worry in his voice.

"Her eyes changed this morning. I've only seen it once before, but it's Dru alright. It's part of her bite, almost like a long distance thrall. She can only hold on for a few seconds at most from this distance, but it was enough to knock me down and take me by surprise."

"I've never heard of such a thing." Giles scoffed in disbelief.

"There's a reason it's unheard of."

Giles waited for him to continue watching as Spike stood in the shadows peering through the open windows in the room and to the trees in the distance.

"Spike..."

"It's dangerous alrigh'! Dru's pushing herself into Buffy's mind to take control. To pull her back, yeah. Her mind, for seconds is molded with Dru's so the longer she tries to do it the longer they're stuck together."

"Drusilla will drive the poor girl mad!"

Spike only nodded his response, too many thoughts rushing through his mind at what the consequences of Drusilla's last mind meddling had created. What she was doing to Buffy would no doubt have long term consequences if she continued for much longer.

"Angelus would be free to do whatever he wanted." Giles was rushing around his library pulling books off shelves, cluttering and clanking together a mortar and pestle and lumping them onto an open desk space. He rushed to the window and swiped on the glass there with a small torn piece of parchment, pulling away with him the faintest trace of blood that Buffy had left behind when her hip touched the glass before she pushed off and jumped.

He spoke words in Latin over the bloodied piece of parchment before lighting it on fire in the mortar bowl. He tipped the ashes the parchment left behind onto a map that he had laid out in front of him and closed his eyes, focusing on the object that he was searching for.

Buffy.

Spike watched as the ashes moved on the map towards the tree's lined on its paper and further inwards. She'd gone far. The ash pooled in a spot and left a cluster behind before it began moving again. A few miles more on the map and it slowed it's pace having caught up with the object it searched for. Giles opened his eyes.

"There."

He was already rolling up the map, tucking it under his arm before he glanced at the open window and the sunlight streaming in and back again at Spike, knowing his friend wouldn't be able to follow.

"Bring her back."

"You know what needs to be done when she returns. Whether you like it or not."

"I know what needs to be done, Ripper." Spike growled, still fighting his demon over his heart. "She's going to like your idea less than I do."

"She'll do what's necessary to save her own sanity and life."

Spike nodded and swayed his hand to indicate Giles' leave.

"If you're no' back in an hour I'm sending Oz out."

Giles nodded his agreement and rushed past Spike, down the hall and stairs.

Whatever happened next would affect all their lives.

Buffy was puffing for air as she struggled to jog her way through the thick bush as she pushed further inwards of the forest. Sweat was dripping down onto her top from her forehead and her skin felt clammy to the touch. Buffy knew it was from the blood-loss and the force in which she was pushing her body to its limits.

This is so not a good sign. Come on Summers, pull it together!

With her new-found power running through her body she could run harder and faster, but there was nothing like a bleeding wound to slow you down. She slumped into a tree and almost slammed her forehead on its bark from exhaustion. The hand that had been cut from her window fall had bled through the bark bandage that she had tied around it and with a whimper she peeled away the wrappings to view the damage. She cursed herself for not collecting more Yarrow from the bushes she had come across earlier at seeing the blood pooling there.

Buffy closed her eyes and tied the bark around her palm a fraction tighter, almost as tight as you would a tourniquet. With her eyes closed she took a few deep and calming breaths to collect her thoughts. Her body was tired, thighs aching from running, her lungs hurting with every breath she took and her brows furrowed together when she felt her hip throbbing with pain. She pulled her pants away from her skin to see what the cause of discomfort was and noticed for the first time that the claw marks and scratches she had delivered to herself in her sleep were bright red and angry. The bite marks in the center were a deep blood red.

Her body swayed and she stumbled over her own feet to take a few steps as her vision blurred, her limbs becoming heavy.

"Such a pretty little dollie. Come to mummy."

Buffy's head smacked down again onto the trunk of the tree she was using to hold herself up, the smack doing nothing to jolt her out of the dazed state she had slipped into.

"You've been a naughty girl. Bad dollie."

That voice.

Buffy breathed deep in her trance, her limbs heavy as she started walking forward at a stumbling pace.

"Come to mummy."

Those feral yellow eyes.

Eyes than haunted her.

Buffy's body betrayed her every screaming thought as she tried to push herself out of the limbo she had slipped into.

"Bad dollies need to be punished."

..................................................................


Giles had been pushing his horse to it's limit, staying at a gallop for a long time, stopping only for a few seconds to console the map in his hands and the ash line that showed Buffy's movements as she continued to move further into the forest. She was close by and slow in her pace which he could neither decipher if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Still, Giles thought it wise to stay on edge and alert, his back tense and eyes scanning the treeline in front of him. He stuck to the road that ran through the forest surrounding Spikes estate and could see that Buffy wasn't too far in from the main path itself. The map showed that she had traveled a good distance inwards, but was not slowly making her way towards the path again.

When the ash line on the map jutted forward again he could see that Buffy would be entering the path from the trees a few meters ahead from where he was. Wanting to catch her off guard he slipped from his horse and tied it to a nearby tree.

A small satchel hung from his saddle and he slipped it across his shoulder, the leather slung across his chest diagonally. He heard her before he saw her, Buffy's footfalls heavy and dragging sluggishly behind her, breathing shallow and short. It wasn't long before she came into his sight and when her yellow eyes locked with his he was taken back.

Buffy gave him a feral growl before charging, swinging her sword towards him. Giles only just managed to narrowly miss having his chest sliced open by lunging backwards on his feet.

"Buffy!"

She growled and lunged again, Giles out stepping her moves once more.

Giles couldn't believe what he was seeing. Buffy in this state of frame and mind was sluggish in her step, obviously fighting off Drusillas hold and pull on her. When she moved to come at him again he wasn't as quick and she managed to slice the side of his arm, cutting his shirt and hitting flesh.

He cursed and stumbled back, tripping over a tree root and falling. Buffy came at him again, her eyes wide and yellow. With shaky hands he dug his hand into the satchel deep and grabbed a fist full of the herbs inside.

"Sorry my dear."

Giles tried his best to sound sympathetic, but it was lost on Buffy when she tried to swipe down at him again. He thrust his fist full of herbs into her face and muttered a few words, sweeping out a leg to knock her legs from under her. Buffy's eyes rolled into the back of her head and the sword she gripped onto fell from her hands with a clang right before she crumpled to the ground in a heap, knocked out cold.

...................................................


Miles away an ever-maddening vampiress eye's narrowed as she swiped at the blood that dripped from her nose.

Drusilla had stayed awake all night concentrating so hard until she forced on nose bleeds as she sought to pull her dollie back. Her efforts seeming futile and almost giving up hope until the early morning hours came and she finally managed to break through the little girls barriers and enter her mind.

She had seen bunched up sheets and her dollies own bloodied hands before she was pushed out of her mind. Drusilla pushed back in and saw her Spike staring back in worry. She had growled and knocked him out using the dollies own body against her.

She would worry about dealing with Spike once dollie was home.

Drusilla was pushed out from her mind once again and had succeeded only minutes ago at taking over dollie once more. Through her eyes she could see tree's and forest surrounded her, which did nothing to help indicate where she was exactly. Drusilla needed pathways, signs or landmarks. Her eyes narrowed as her dollie struggled, using her voice to pull her back into the void once more.

Drusilla saw flashes of an old man trying to coax her dollie away and she growled and lunged at him. Minuets passed and just when she thought she had the old man finished she was pushed out again.

"Meddlesome fools!" She screamed her rage, hands scrunching into fists when her hold was once again broken.

Her nails dug into her flesh, half moons etched into her palm as she steamed with fury.

Giles huffed with exertion as he dragged Buffy's passed out form through the forest. Her feet slipped from his hands as he stumbled through the last bush and onto the path where his horse stood, straining it's reigns to nibble on the grass surrounding the tree he had tied it to. A noise to his back startled him and he let Buffy's feet fall to the ground with a thump as he stood up straight. He wasn't alone. His surprise guest wore a small smirk and pointed to the woman at his feet.

"What!" Giles huffed.

"Need some help with that?"

"I'm quite fine, thank you."

Oz chuckled, walking over to help him lift Buffy up off the ground. With ease, he slung her over his shoulder before laying her across the saddle of Giles' horse.

"Spike sent me. Thought you might need help."

"Yes, well-"

"What did you do to her?"

Oz poked Buffy's shoulder a few times, getting no twitch or movement in response. He glanced at Giles who was ripping the material of his sleeved shirt apart, and noticed for the first time there was a cut across his arm. He winced sympathetically before taking a hold of the ripped strip of cloth to tie around the wound to stop the bleeding.

Giles let out a thank you as he adjusted Buffy's swinging arms before untying his horse from the tree.

"A simple sleeping powder. It won't keep her out for long so we best get moving."

He started walking while Oz slid his own reins over his mount's head to walk alongside Giles. There was simply no room for Giles to climb onto the saddle, not with it full of Buffy's passed out form taking up most of it.

"What's the plan? Once we get her back I mean. Spike has been pacing the halls since you left and I've gotta tell you, he's acting weird."

"Weirder than usual you mean?"

They shared a chuckle.

"Drusilla," Giles paused. "Spike tells me she has sought entry into Buffy's mind through means I don't quite understand. From what he has said I can tell you that it's quite dangerous for both of them. The distance in which Drusilla is trying to cover to make that connection and the longer she stays in Buffy's mind will be quite harmful. The bite that was delivered to the poor girl has her marked and the only way to break it is through a stronger bite. A claiming bite would do that."

Giles glanced at Buffy's face as they walked, he felt responsible for the young woman. He had made a promise to a dear friend years ago that if she were to ever come to him seeking his help that he would do as she asked.

"I didn't think that you would come."

"It took me longer than I thought to make the trip. Why the secrecy and urgency my friend?"

"It's better you don't know the details. For your own safety. I need your help!"

"Hank-"

"It's a matter of life and death! I have a daughter. She... You need to promise me that if she ever comes to you asking for it that you help her. Whatever she asks."

"Hank, I don't understand. Whats going on?"

His friend that he had known for half of his life was shaking like a leaf in front of him. Eyes scanning the small secluded clearing that they had agreed to meet in away from any prying eyes.

"Promise me Ripper!"

"I promise, but Hank I need to know what's going on!"

"It's all in here." He was handed a bundle of parchments wrapped in a leather bind, hands still holding onto the other end even after Giles hands had made contact. "Whatever happens, do not let these get into the wrong hands. It would cost his daughter her life." Frantic eyes scattered the clearing once more. "I can't stay any longer, promise to keep them safe. Keep her safe! If she ever comes for them!"

Before Giles could utter a word Hank disappeared from the clearing, leaving him with the bundle of parchments in his hands and questions unanswered in his mind.

"Claiming bite?"

"Hmm, yes. When vampires mate it is for life."

"That's why Spike is acting so weird. If he claims Buffy and cuts the link she has with Drusilla it also means that he would no longer be able to take Drusilla as his mate. Buffy would be his. Forever"

"Yes."

"Wow." Oz whistled low. "For as long as I've known him has been pining over Drusilla and trying to goad Angelus into fights."

"She started the war, Drusilla that is, playing the two off each other until in the end Spike lost and Angelus won. Now I'm beginning to understand that there is quite a lot more to Angelus and why he has kept Drusilla so close all these years. She was the key to finding Buffy."

"To completing the prophecy?"

"What do you know about it?"

"Not much. Just that Riley said he wanted to breed her. Not quite sure how that works seeing as Angelus is dead and all."

"There's a little bit more to it than that I'm afraid. Things I don't quite yet understand. I am, however, determined to find the answers."

Oz opened his mouth to speak when his ears picked up screaming in the distance, Willows screams. He flung the reins back over his mount and jumped up with ease, not giving a Giles a chance to speak before rearing and galloping off down the path back towards the estate.

........................................................


Buffy woke with a start, the shouts of screaming coming from somewhere nearby.

"I am pushing! Yousonofabitch you did this to me!"

More screams and muffled voices had Buffy trying to sit up with little success. Her hands seemed to be tied above her head and she noticed that once again she was lying on a bed. This bed, however, was not the one that was in her room. This room was different. It was twice the size and had a large floor to roof window that opened up to a small balcony. The curtains blew in with the breeze and she noticed for the first time that it was dark outside, a full moon creating a soft glow on the stone floors.

She recognized the voice that shouted down the hall was Willows so she surmised that once again, she was Spike's prisoner. How she had ended up in this strange room she didn't know. The last thing Buffy remembered was tying bindings around her bleeding hand and running through the woods, running some more, and then seeing gold eyes.

Her heart beat fast in her chest.

"Bad Dollie!"

"See if I ever let you near me again!"

The shout and scream broke her from her thoughts and she struggled against the ropes keeping her tied down. The bed was covered again in blood-red satin sheets, black throw pillows propped her up on the bed giving her a panoramic view of the room.

Books lined one entire wall, all held up by beautiful mahogany shelves. A leather chair sat in front on a rug with a fireplace on the adjacent wall. There was a small table near the chair, candle's and their holders covered in melted wax indicating that they were used every day. A book lay half open on the chair and even squinting, she still couldn't make out the title. Thick curtains were bunched together with a rope tie at the window and balcony, letting the nights breeze blow in. Her eyes scanned the room, more furniture lined walls, another wooden chest and then her eyes landed on a small bed side table next to her.

"One more!"

Shit!

Buffy struggled with her bonds for a few moments before managing to loosen the loops around both wrists. There was pure silence for a moment down the hall and then she heard the small wail of a child. Willow had just given birth. She heard muffled voices before the creak opening and closing of a door in the distance was heard and footfalls made their way towards her.

"How are you feeling?"

Buffy slunk back into the pillows trying to avoid Giles outstretched hand as he laid it on her forehead.

"Why did you run?" Buffy's head snapped up to owner of the voice and saw Spike at the open door, staring at her intently. "This is the safest place for you-"

"Like hell it is! What did you do to me? Let me go!"

"Buffy-"

"No!" Buffy shoved her body to the side, brushing off Giles and moving her head from under his hands. "I don't trust you!"

"You need to listen to me carefully, pet." Spike was sitting in front of her, face inches from hers, eyes never breaking their stare. "You're dangerous right now and unpredictable. This mornin' we were all a bit startled yeah, but after the damage you caused last night-"

"What?" She whispered, cutting him off. "What damage?" Hissing in pain when Spike moved the sheets aside to reveal her red and bruised hip, the scratch marks only beginning to heal.

"Last night you seemed to slip into a certain state in which we couldn't wake you." Giles had pulled his glasses from his face when he stood, letting Spike take his seat moments earlier. "You had been scratching at your bite and lashing out at anyone who got close to you."

"Something is happening to you-"

"Why should I believe a word you say! You have done nothing but drug me with sleeping powder and truth serum since I arrived. You agree to help me kill my tormentors, but refuse to let me kill Drusilla. Fuck you!"

Buffy slipped both hands from their loose bindings and slammed her head into Spike's, knocking him back as she scrambled from the bed. She rushed to the small table with the largest silver candle holder on it and held it up like a weapon. Spinning she knocked Giles in the chest and felt her limbs become heavy, her body doing things on its own accord. She was a simple viewer to her own actions. She hit Giles with the candle holder again and watched him slip to the ground, arms up in defense.

Before she could register another move, strong arms wound their way around her waist, pinning her arms to her side as a hot breath whispered in her ear.

"Stop. Buffy you need to stop."

"G-Giles....." Tears slipped from her eyes. She dropped the candle holder to the ground with a clang and stared down at her shaking hands for a few moments before she crumbled. Buffy slumped back into Spike's arms and struggled to breathe, letting out a huge sob as her tears fell. "What's happening to me?"

Buffy let Spike lead her over to the leather chair that sat next to the fireplace in silence, hands still shaking from what had just transpired. She slipped into the chair bonelessly, thoughts rushing a mile a minute, legs shaking as she tucked them under herself. Her eyes stared at the discarded candle holder that now lay on the floor where she had only moments ago wielded it as a weapon and used to lash out at Giles. Her body had not been hers to control. The thought sent a shiver of goosebumps in their wake.

"W-what's happening to me?"

Giles had pulled himself up and was sitting on the edge of the bed. Spike was standing nearby, his eyes never leaving her form for long. It took him a minute to respond, his brows furrowing as if he searched for the right words to explain it all to her with.

"We believe that Drusilla is trying to take control of you."

"What?"

"The bite mark she gave you not only allows her to track your movements, pet, but with a great amount of effort on her part she can control you." Spike spoke softly and there was a hint of sympathy in his voice.

"Is that even possible?"

Her eyes focused on Giles as he reached to adjust a bandage that was wrapped around his arm and she noticed for the first time that he was injured. Her brows furrowed, confused. She didn't remember seeing a wound there when she had jumped from his library window that morning.

What's happening to me?

"From the events that have unfolded recently I have no doubt that it is entirely possible. For brief moments, yes, she can control you."

"Did I do that?" Buffy gestured at the wound on his arm.

"Yes."

"When?"

"Earlier today, right before I unfortunately had to put you under a strong toxin in the forest."

Buffy's eyes once again drifted to her still shaking hands. The mere thought of Drusilla being able to track her every movement was terrifying, but now, hearing that she was under that demons control, she was absolutely petrified. Questions rushed to the surface. Why hadn't she tried it sooner? Why now? What could she make her do next.

Willows baby! Oh God!

Buffy pushed the bile that made its way to her throat back down, her eyes wide. She was a danger to everyone she came into contact with, including herself.

"Can you make it stop?"

"U-unfortunately there is only one way to break the control she has over you."

Spike, who had been silent up until that point, let out a mumble before he moved to stand in front of the open window.

"Well do it!" Buffy plead shouted, leaning up from her position in the chair.

"I-It's not something I can do I'm afraid." Giles stood, his eyes on Spike before he spared his gaze to Buffy. "It's best if I let Spike explain. The process is something he will have more knowledge on."

Giles rubbed the bruise forming on his forehead where Buffy had knocked him as he walked, picking up the candle holder from the ground and making his way to the door. Buffy ushered out a small, sympathetic and shaky 'Sorry' before he nodded his acceptance, closing the door behind him. Silence once again filled the room.

They stayed in silence for minutes, neither knowing what to say. Buffy shuddered and rubbed her arms in an effort to keep warm when an icy cool breeze blew in from the open window Spike was standing next to. She briefly heard him mumble a string of curses under his breath before the shuffling of his feet against the fur rug was heard. He walked towards the fireplace that sat opposite her and she watched with interest as he pulled logs and items from a small basket that lay nearby.

Buffy had pulled her legs up onto the chair again, arms hugging her knees tight when another gust of wind blew in, a flush of goosebumps rising on her skin in its wake. Spike lit a few candles on the mantelpiece and she noticed for the first time that her skin was starting to turn a light shade of blue. The cold and shock of the news that had just been laid upon her taking its toll.

"What do you need to do? T-To fix this." Buffy stared at the candles flames as they flickered on the mantel. At first Spike didn't speak, just bent back down to the fireplace to continue laying logs.

"Had to knock you out."

"You what?"

"Last night. I had to knock you out."

His voice was rough and he seemed frustrated, his movements jerky and uneasy, causing the items that she assumed were firewood to clatter to the floor. Angry that the fire wasn't lighting, he let out a growl. There were a few moments of silence before Buffy huffed at his inability to set light to the wood before sliding out of the chair. She pulled the giant window door closed and came to stand where he was crouched over the fireplace. She picked the candle up from the mantel piece and bent down to see the mess he was making of the fire. With one eyebrow raised, she grabbed a few logs from the fire and began removing the ones he had just laid.

"A fire needs to breathe." She layered the logs in a different pattern and grabbed some kindling that he had placed on the floor before lighting it with the candle she held. "You've never lit a fire before?"

"The cold doesn' bother me."

Buffy breathed a silent 'o', not knowing what to say. They stared in silence for a few moments at the kindling as the fire took root and slowly built. Buffy stood again and placed the still burning candle back in its stand on the mantel. Spike was crouched still in the same position as she stood, his head close to her hips. He breathed an unnecessary breath and turned his gaze to her hips and groin.

"I don't remember what happened." Buffy exclaimed, her brows furrowed at the ache she felt throughout her body, her limbs stiff and loosening in the warmth the fire was giving her.

Spike stood slowly, not bothering to step back when he stood. His face was close to hers and Buffy felt her heart skip a beat. He had the bluest eyes, shining with the glimmer of gold catching from the fire.

Her cheeks flushed bright red when Spike reached out a tentative hand to close around her hip, tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Spike was taking unnecessary breaths as he took in her scent. The hand he had on her hip tightened as her bite mark began to burn, warming under his touch. He could hear the rapid pounding of her heart as it beat in her chest and with a fierce growl, spun away from her.

"Did Dru say anything when she bit you?" His narrow stare met her wide and panicked eyes.

Buffy raised one eyebrow and spoke, hesitant to answer him.

"She said lots of things... why?"

"Your bite burn a lot yeah? You ever feel like you're being pulled?"

"Y-yes."

Spike cursed and ran a hand down his face.

"Dru marked you."

"Well duh."

Way to state the obvious.

She thought, pointing to the vicious scars on her hip.

"She's gifted-"

"I wouldn't call insane gifted." Buffy grumbled, earning a growl from Spike.

Like she cared what he thought. She was going to kill the insane bitch the first chance she got, but the words he spoke had her worried.

"She's different. Not like other vamps. She's trying to find you, yeah, call you out. May very well have succeeded." Spike walked to the end the bed and sat down. The warmth of the fire had finally started to fight against the crisp chill in the air and Buffy felt colour return to her skin once again. "You were screaming all hell in your sleep. Tried to claw the mark right off of your skin. Tha's why there was blood everywhere this morning. I had to knock you out to get you to stop."

Buffy glanced at her bloodied hip before rubbing her temples, trying her best to process and digest everything she had just discovered.

"How is she doing it?" Spike shook his head in response and shrugged, unsure. "Can you stop it? S-so she can't find me... Can't control me anymore." Buffy needed to be at full strength and fully in control of her own body when she found Drusilla and Angelus and killed them.

After torturing them and finding out the truth about my parents first, of course.

Spike let out a laugh and placed his hands in-between his knees.

"Tha's the real kicker then isn' it." He stood abruptly. "I can."

"Then do it! You asked for my help to kill Angelus last night. All I ask in return is the promise that you help me kill Drusilla- or at least don't get in my way."

"I can't promise that," Spike said, torn. He wanted to be able to promise to her that he wouldn't get in her way, but not getting in her way meant that he was helping her attack his maker and a part of him wasn't ready to face a world without her in it.

"I can't help you kill Angelus if she can control me. If she knows I'm coming-"

"You're not going to like how."

Buffy stared at Spike, his face unreadable as she pushed for his answer.

"How?"

"I have to claim you." Buffy's eyes widened as fear struck her. "It's the only bite stronger than the one she's marked you with. The only one that can challenge her claim, o-"

"No! No, no no." Buffy was shaking her head, eyes wide. She had witnessed the viciousness of the claiming bite Angelus had delivered to Drusilla and there was no way in seven hells that she was letting Spike anywhere near her. "I've seen that done before and- No!"

Buffy jumped when Spike stepped forward and her eyes widened in panic. He frowned, listening to her breathing and heartbeat. She was petrified.

He took a few steps back, hands up, and watched as the tension in her shoulders eased a little as she took took a few steps away from him.

"I'm not Angelus, luv." That bastard had no humanity left.

"No." Buffy was shaking her head, forcing the memories from her mind.

"You think I actually want to do this? Claim a human! Claim one of the chosen! You're off your bird if you think I actually want this."

Spike began to pace, silently cursing Giles.

Buffy's mind was racing. Giles was a powerful warlock, surely he and Willow could come up with a spell that would break Drusilla's hold over her.

"G-Giles or Willow... they can cast a spell. They can stop it!" Buffy seemed so hopeful, her eyes wide. Spike knew it was fruitless, there was no stronger bond than one made with blood. There was no spell that could undo what Drusilla had done to her.

"It won't work."

"Can't they at least try!" Buffy yelled desperately.

"The only way it's going to stop is if another master vampire challenges the claim and I don't see any other master vampires offering to do it for you. Do you want the nightmares to stop? Do you want the pull you feel to go back, to stop. The pain to stop." Spike was walking slowly towards her, Buffy silently taking in his words and knowing he was correct. She looked up and yelled when she noticed his movements.

"Don't! Don't come near me." Spike threw his hands up in the air in surrender at her voice and stilled his movements, her breath coming in short panicked pants. She was on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack.

"Luv?...Buffy?" Spike took a hesitant step forward as Buffy's hands ran through her hair.

"Drusilla and Angelus... he-"

"Angelus is a cruel bastard, luv. His demon is always in control."

"They...right after-" Buffy placed a hand on her red hip and met Spikes eyes, hers filled with unshed tears. "It was r-right after."

Spike lips formed an 'o' in understanding, finally realizing why she was so afraid. Angelus had obviously claimed Dru right in front of her. By the way Buffy had reacted to him earlier that morning, kicking him from the bed and fighting him after seeing his blood smeared face and the way her heart was racing now, it hadn't been pleasant to watch.

Spike had seen how deep the bite ran, Drusilla's fangs leaving a mark on her skin that his demon growled at. A mark, a claim of any sort should not have been delivered that way. Buffy had been mauled and left bleeding out whilst Angelus and Drusilla had mated and claimed right in front of her.

"I'm guessing that what you witnessed was," he sighed and shook his head, not wanting to think of the things Angelus had done with Drusilla, his once dark princess. Buffy slowly nodded, eyes downcast. "Christ, luv..."

"I'm not-" She seemed to think something over for a few moments before hesitantly speaking. "You can make it stop though... The pain? The n-nightmares. I'll be in control?"

"Yes."

"Will it hurt?"

"Will it hurt?"

"No," Spike paused, watching Buffy as she worried her lip between her teeth. "Not the way I can do it."

His words offered her little assurance.

"What would you do? Angelus just-" she shuddered from the memory and averted her gaze.

I'll die first before I ever let someone touch me like that.

"It's not like that for us. Vampires like pain." Spike struggled to explain. "Pain is- It's just..." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I wouldn' do that to you. I'm not going to run over and maul you. Relax, pet." Spike could see her body tense and stiffen from his words, her thoughts and fears clearly taking a hold over her as she instinctively crossed her arms over herself in defense, still worrying her lips between her teeth.

"What if you don't do it. What if-"

Spikes demon protested at her words, the thought of Buffy turning from the idea sent his face into a scowl, brows furrowing in response to the thought of her rejecting his offer.

What if he can control me?

"Do you want to help me kill Angelus?"

"Yes." She whispered, wanting nothing more than to avenge her parents' deaths, but the thought of what Spike might be able to do to her once the claim was completed had her eyes watering in fear and worry.

"If I don't break the claim Drusilla has on you, then she will feel you coming. She'll be able to warn Angelus. She can control you." His words were short, but heavy, eyes boring into hers as he spoke.

"Mummy has fixed everything. Alone in the dark she stumbles, but I'll always know. The pixies whisper where she hides."

"You won't be able to fight her off." Spike paced back and forth for a few moments before stopping in front of her. "There's nothing stronger than a blood claim. Dru has her claws in you, luv."

"Will you be able to control me?"

"No, a mating claim runs both ways. What Dru has done to you-" Buffy jumped when he reached out to touch her. "It's different."

Buffy's eyes searched his face, looking for what she didn't know. All that she was sure of was that Spike spoke the truth. There was nothing stronger than blood. Blood was special. She of all people knew that.

"You're special, Elizabeth and one day not too far from now you're going to do great things."

"Ok." Her answer was a barely audible whisper, sighing almost in defeat as she spoke.

"Ok?" Spike was surprised, eyes going wide at hearing her whispered answer, positive that she would say no. He was expecting curses thrown at him or even punches as she swore she would rather die first than let him anywhere near her. "I do this and it's forever, pet."

"I don't have any other choice do I!" Buffy defeatedly yelled, eyes welling with tears. "It's you or her! A-and right now being under her control is-" a few tears slipped down her cheeks. "Please, just make it stop."

Spike felt something in his chest tighten, pity, sadness and a sympathetic nod of understanding was sent her way. He knew the costs of the claim and had spent the better part of the day pacing lost in his own thoughts as he tried to come to terms with his decision.

Drusilla, for a moment in time had been his whole world. She had made her choice though. It was clear as day to him now upon seeing the woman standing before him, suffering, because of Drusilla and the lengths that she was going to, to pull Buffy under her control. Ultimately bringing her back to her tormentor, Angelus.

He always hated the pillock. No. The only way to stick it to Angelus was to take away the one thing he desired most, and more than anything that was Buffy.

The tiny young scrap of a woman who had knocked him out cold and dusted his minions with ease, eluded his guards, jumped from a two story balcony and run off into the sunlight.

This tiny scrap of a woman is goin' to be the death of me.

Spike owed Ripper his life, a debt that he would never be able to repay and after hearing the old man state that Buffy was the closest thing that he had left to family and was his duty and obligation to protect, his mind had been made. He had no choice but to intervene. He would break the hold Drusilla held over her, and help her kill Angelus once and for all. He just hoped that when it came to the moment, Drusilla wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

"You said it yourself. There's no other master vampire around to break the claim, not one that wouldn't kill me knowing what I am." Buffy took a deep breath. "H-how do we do this? Do you just?" She offered up her arm and moved a few steps forward, making biting noises with her teeth.

Please don't let this hurt.

Spike let out a laugh at her ministration, taking a few steps forward to wrap his cool hand around her offered delicate wrist. A smirk formed on his lips. The demon in him was ecstatic, waiting just beneath the surface, relishing in the fact that soon he would be making her his. Buffy's blood would soon flow through him as he buried himself inside her.

Buffy had no idea what she was in for.

"It's a bit more complex then tha', luv." He took her hand in his and turned her palm down. "A claim is like a marriage I guess, in the way you humans would describe it anyhow. In the sense that it's no' official unless you, you know."

When he waggled his eyebrows suggestively making Buffy gasped, her hand jumping in his.

Oh...

"OH!"

"You give yourself to me and I would give myself to you."

Spike brought her wrist to up his lips and kissed the pulse point there, eyes staring at her the whole time. Watching the emotions that played across her delicate features, highlighted by the fires flames that they stood in front of.

"You don' have to be afraid of me."

"I am..." Buffy whispered, fighting back the urge to snatch her hand from the vampire staring at her hungrily and make a run for freedom.

Kinda hard not to be when you're looking at me like that buster.

Her neck was tingling with warning at having a vampire this close to her. Her body automatically tensing and slipping into defense mode, muscles ready and tense.

Spike placed an open-mouthed kiss on her wrist and smiling before letting her hand go, dropping to her side.

This is a bad, bad idea. What did I just agree to!

"Nope!"

Buffy jumped back when Spike's hands moved to grasp her hips, her bite mark burning red at his touch. Spike stopped his movements, hands slipping into defense, only to try again after Buffy had taken a few shaky and deep breaths. His fingers played with the material of the night gown she had been dressed in after arriving that afternoon. He fingered the material, letting his knuckles glide across her thigh before moving them upwards. Fingers swam across her tense back like wisps of silk as Spike whispered to her.

"Relax, luv."

Oh yeah, like it's so easy!

Buffy couldn't help but be scared. She had been terrorized and tortured by vampires for the last two years and here she was making a deal with the devil himself to stop the control one beast had over her. She was going to let Spike bite her. She was going to let Spike take her very life essence, the blood her parents had told her was so special and claim it as his.

She was going to have sex with Spike.

Oh my god!

Her heart skipped a beat as she stammered nervously.

"I've....I've never..."

"Relax."

The whispered words in her ear sent a shudder through her, goosebumps rising on her arms even in the warmth of the room. Buffy couldn't help the involuntary tense of her back muscles when his hand trailed down her spine, sliding along the material of her gown as he walked to stand in front of her again.

Spike pushed the hair off of her neck and leaned in.

This is it. Here goes nothing.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she tensed again, waiting for him to strike. Spike paused his movements.

"Relax, pet."

His soft voice made her heart race. Instead of the sharp bite she had been waiting for, she got a kiss on the collarbone. And then another, and another, before he placed a trail of them along her neck. His kisses turned to short little nips, racking them up her neck before placing an open mouthed kiss above her pulse point there.

"Wh-"

Buffy could feel her pulse racing under his lips. Never before had she let anyone this close to her, never the less kiss her. Her eyes fluttered closed when he took an earlobe in between his mouth and murmured to her. She tried to fight her body, but it betrayed her. Her legs turned to jello and she had to grip onto his biceps for support. Spike must have taken her arms on him as a sign to continue his movements and with firm hands he placed them around her waist.

His hands began stroking her, squeezing, as he trailed kisses down her neck, collarbone and chin before he placed a brief kiss on her lips and groaned low.

"You smell amazing." He squeezed her hips and took a deep breath in her hair.

Buffy's only response was a gasp as her body betrayed her again and starting moving forward, further into his arms.

"Like sunshine."

She had a brief moment of panic when his lips had first met hers, cold as ice on her warm skin. A jolt had run through her right to her stomach and further below.

Oh my!

As if hearing her thoughts, he captured her lips once again.

His kiss was against closed lips at first, before opening his mouth a few seconds later and pushing his tongue against her lips, forcing his way into her. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies when her tongue met his for the first time. She felt her body flush with goosebumps, her nipples becoming hard as he pulled her close.

In all her eighteen years she had never experience anything so amazing before. The hands she had on his biceps involuntarily moved to cup his neck when he pulled her flush against his body. His head tilted, moving in the opposite direction, making his kisses all the more intoxicating.

Buffy let out a gasp as their heads turned, the new movement deepening their kiss. The hands around her waist slipped to cup her backside and she groaned. Her body felt foreign to her, feelings and movements she had never experience before, but coming so easily.

His hands squeezed her backside and she moaned again into his mouth.

"Christ, luv."

They broke apart panting, foreheads resting together, his hands still silently roaming her body. Stroking, squeezing.

"Wow."

Her eyes widened at her body's reaction to his touch. Maybe this wouldn't be as destructive and painful as Angelus had made it look.

"Uh-huh."

Was Spike's only response before diving straight back in. She was getting the hang of this kissing thing. If she really was going to do this, let Spike claim her, then she was going to make sure she at least tried to enjoy it.

And enjoying it she was.

Feeling bolder in her kiss Buffy pushed forward and they stumbled in their steps slightly as she brought him closer. Her legs felt like they would collapse from under her at any moment and she was grateful when Spike slipped his hands beneath her gown and hoisted her up, her legs instinctively going about his waist to stop her from falling over.

The gasp and sound that escaped her mouth was foreign to her. Surely she didn't just produce such a sultry sound. The higher position let her body feel a whole new range of sensations. Spike's hands grasped the naked flesh of her legs, his lips kissing her breasts through the material of her gown, making the front damp from his ministrations.

In all her wildest dreams Buffy had never though that she would ever experience this. Experience the touch from another man. Spending her whole life on the run it wasn't safe to let anyone close and the prospects of a relationship seemed dim. If not impossible.

Buffy gasped when Spike pushed her up against the nearest wall. The cold stone hitting her back and making her shiver. She cried out in protest at the still tender skin being brushed against anything. Spike seemed to notice and captured her lips with his and stumbled them towards the bed. They fell with a thud and both let out twin groans when Spike's center collided with hers.

Spike could feel the heat that radiated in between his legs and felt his demon fighting for dominance. It wanted Buffy and it wanted her now. He struggled for a few moments trying to keep his demon at bay, knowing that Buffy deserved more than just a hard and fast claiming. He needed to make this special for her. Something she wouldn't fear and hate him for entirely.

He didn't want her resentment.

Her hatred.

He had tried his best not to lie when she had asked him if it was going to hurt, but there was no stopping the pain that came from a vampires teeth biting into flesh.

Of course it's goin' to hurt.

The skirts that were bunched around Buffy's waist were suddenly stripped free, the material making a sharp ripping sound in the quite of the room. Spike pulled the offending garment from her body and over her head, his lips coming down to meet the naked chest that awaited him.

"Fuck!" Buffy gasped when Spike pulled a nipple into his mouth and bit down lightly, one hand coming to toy with the other. "Y- you really weren't lying when you said I was missing out - Oh!" Buffy let out another gasp as Spike chuckled, his hips unconsciously grinding down against hers before he slid up and away.

His eyes raked over her naked form and he couldn't help the possessive growl that came out of his mouth.

Mine!

Buffy felt herself shudder, goosebumps rising to her flesh under his intense stare.

"Wh- What..."

Buffy's eyes fluttered open at the loss of contact and saw the look that crossed Spike's face before he stood from the bed and moved to the fireplace. He picked up the candle that still burned away in its stand on the mantel and walked around the room, lighting other candles that lay scattered, leaving a soft warm glow to encompass the room.

He needed to see all of her.

Buffy, feeling rather exposed in her naked state, sat up and pulled the blanket over her body. Her cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment as Spike, under hooded eyes, seemed to devour every inch of exposed skin he could find. He took his time lighting the last of the candles, stopping to light the last one that stood in its holder next to the bed. Buffy clutched the blanket to her chest, holding her breath as she waited for him to make a move.

"Don't." He whispered, eyes dark and hungry. She blushed under his gaze and couldn't help the slight jump she made when he spoke. Her back was bare and exposed as she sat watching his every move. "Don't ever hide."

Buffy watched as he unlaced his boots, hearing them thud to the ground as he kicked them aside before he slid to sit behind her. One hand trialed down her neck and shoulder as the other slipped down her back, goosebumps rising in their wake as his fingers swept over her scars like hands would over braille parchment.

"You're beautiful."

"I'm not. No one has ever... I'm just feeling a little-" She clutched the blanket tight.

"Naked?" Spike offered in a chuckle.

"Yes, naked." Buffy scowled, slapping the hand that tried to slip down the front of her blanket. She heard the swoosh as something was removed and saw a brief flash of material swing past her head before a naked cool chest was pressed into her back sending her heart fluttering.

"Will it make you feel less naked and exposed if I'm naked as well?" Spike whispered right in her ear, pulling the soft lobe into his mouth and suckling before he began kissing her neck again.

Buffy managed to let a 'uh huh' sound escape her lips before Spike moved to lie on his side, pulling her down with him.

She couldn't help but stare, her lips forming a perfect 'o' as she took in his appearance. His chest was tight, his abdominals flexing in the pale candlelight that flickered around them. He had the most delicious lines that sculpted his hips trailing to his sex and Buffy watched with wide eyes as his hands came to his pants and undid the ties holding them on his hips. Ever so slowly he lowered them, his cock springing free into his awaiting hand.

Holy shit!

She blushed and looked away, her eyes looking anywhere but on him. She jumped when she heard his voice soft and reassuring.

"Don' be afraid."

Buffy had never seen a naked man this close before. She had seen Angelus and Drusilla fuck in front of her many times, but they never came close to her. The anatomy was the same, but Spike was different. Spike was leaner, toned and sharp. In a way, he felt more dangerous. It was a feeling she couldn't describe. His hands wrapped around her fingers and brought them to his chest.

She let her fingers explore his chest, feather light touches at first trailing cross his collarbone and onto his shoulder. Hands tickled across his pectorals, her thumb bouncing across a pebbled nipple which had him taking an unnecessary breath. His mouth slightly open and Buffy couldn't help but trace his full bottom lip with a finger, her hand coming to cup his cheek and slide through his hair.

So soft.

Spike turned his head and kissed her palm before meeting her eyes. He clasped her hand with his and let it slide down his chest, over his hips before he helped her curl her fingers around his member.

Buffy gasped at the contact and watched as Spike's mouth made and 'O' shape as his eyes rolled back. He guided her hand up and down his hard shaft. His cock pulsed in her hand and she let out a gasp as he moaned and his hips shifted slightly. Her eyes never left his and when his hips shifted and her grip firmed, she was frozen.

His eyes flashed yellow before flashing back to blue, his gaze never leaving hers. Like a lion would stalk its prey, intense and unwavering. Buffy slunk back further into her pillows.

I'm doomed.

His hand left hers and he encouraged her with a thrust of his hips for her to continue her ministrations on her own as his own hand moved to trail down her side. Buffy closed her eyes as his fingers trailed up her thigh and hips to cup one of her breasts. Her heart skipped a beat, stomach dropping at the contact and at hearing the involuntarily sound they both made. His fingers pinched a nipple and soon she forgot her own movements. Spike lent forward to encase her breast into his mouth and pushed her onto her back.

Buffy was startled at the quick change in position and grabbed both Spike's hips to push him slightly away, her heart racing. This was progressing quickly and she wasn't sure she was ready.

"S-Spike."

Spike was lathering her breasts with such sweet attention as his hips pushed against her thigh. Buffy gripped his hair and pulled his face away from her chest so her eyes could meet his.

"C-can we possibly go slower for a little while. I'm just- This is all just-"

"Sorry, luv." Spike braced himself above her using his arms to hover above her. "Got a little carried away."

"I-it's ok I'm just really new to this. I've never-"

"Know you've never shagged before, pet." Spike smirked, rolling over to his side again and turning her with him. Buffy's heart hammered away in her chest and she took a deep breath.

"No..." she pressed, cheeks flushing pink as she averted her gaze. "I've never done this before."

Spike raised an eyebrow, not sure of her meaning.

"Any of this," Bufy said slower with more intent.

"You've never snogged a bloke before?"

"Snogged? What even is that! Is that even a word? And no I've never done this before. Any of this s-so you need to just- What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Buffy had folded one thigh across the other to cover her center, suddenly feeling extremely expose. One arm covered her chest while the other propped her head up to look at him.

"You're right adorable, luv." Spike smiled, taking in her nervous ramblings and positioning.

"W-what?"

"Snogged. Pashed. Kissed. It's all the same thing, pet."

"Well I've never done any of that so I'm..." she coughed. "just a little bit nervous here. Don't laugh at me!" Buffy swatted at Spike's shoulder as he chuckled before letting out a gasp as he captured his lips with hers in a sweet and chaste kiss.

"We've got all night, luv. We can go as slow" his hand trailed across the forearm that covered her chest and came to rest on her shoulder. "or as fast as you like." His lips and face mere inches from hers. "You set the pace, yeah. I don' want you to fear me."

"It's my natural instinct. Everything inside of me is screaming to run away." Buffy whispered meeting his eyes, her body and mind torn. "I want to run, but I know I can't."

I don't have a choice.

"Know our kind are sworn enemies, luv, but" Spike stopped himself before he spoke another word, not ready to tell her that everything in him was screaming and shouting that she was his. His to claim. His to mate. His prize, his equal. Instead, he smiled reassuringly at Buffy. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, pet. You set the pace. The ball's in your court, luv."

Buffy's heart thudded in her chest unsure of her next move. She took a deep breath and breathed out her request.

"Kiss me."

Her sweet whispered words had Spike smiling and tentatively leaning forward to capture her lips with his. His demon purred when her hand ran through his hair and he couldn't help but slip a hand underneath the pillow she was propped up against to slide her closer. Buffy came to lean over him as their kisses deepened. Every now and then Spike would trail kisses down Buffy's neck as she gasped to catch her breath.

Buffy had asked to go slowly so he refrained from moving the hand that lay across her waist, fighting against his demons demands to touch every inch of her. This was all new to her and he didn't want to frighten her by making any sudden moves, but when Buffy slid her leg up over his hips and swung it across his waist it made things increasingly harder to keep his hands to himself.

Spike groaned and the hand on that was on her hip tightened and slipped with her as she moved, gliding his palm across her backside to find its hold there. Buffy gasped and Spike took the opportunity to deepen their kiss, tongues battling for dominance.

Buffy moved her hips forward on her own accord and groaned as her center brushed against something firm, offering her body some welcoming friction. She bit her lip and Spike growled when he tasted blood. She found herself on her back and pushed down into the soft pillows before her next breath.

Spike trailed kissed down her neck and whispered words into her ear.

"I wan' to try something. Something that will make you feel good. Can I?" Spike sucked her earlobe into his mouth causing Buffy's breath to hitch. "I wan' to taste you." He licked a path from her neck to her ear and her only response was an unrecognizable mumble of words he took as yes.

Buffy's fingers grabbed the pillows behind her and let out a gasp as Spike licked and nibbled his way down her body and chest, her eyes rolling into the back of her head before something cold and wet met the spot she ached to be touched in.

Spike's fingers seemed to glide across her body, hands playing with her breasts as he licked at her center. Buffy didn't know what he was doing to her body, but she wasn't going to complain. Whatever he was doing felt amazing. She cast her gaze southward and let her lips form a silent "O" as Spike's blue cerulean eyes met hers. He kissed and sucked upon a small bundle of nerves and she gasped, her hips thrusting into his face at her own accord.

He was touching parts of her she didn't know existed, breath hitching with each nibble and kiss.

Oh my God!

"Oh!"

Spike moaned at tasting her for the first time, his head buried in between her legs, his hands pushing her thighs apart as he licked her from bottom to top, paying special attention to her clit. When he sped up his ministrations and let his hands come into play he felt Buffy's firm grip on his hair as she mewled above him.

He could hear her breath coming in shorter gasps and knew she was close. He moaned into her center and quickened his pace.

Buffy could feel something welling deep inside. A tension that was about to snap, her breathing almost stopped, her eyes blurring as she tangled her fingers into Spike's hair and pushed his face deeper to her center. When he growled and the vibrations rushed through her, something snapped and she let out an almighty shout.

"Ohhhh fuck!"

Spike lapped at her center as she came undone beneath him. He suckled until she was spent, left gasping above him. He kissed his way back up her body, a smirk on his features as he nuzzled into her neck, sweat forming on her brow as he hovered above her.

He smiled down at her face before kissing her briefly on the lips and laying back down on his side. Buffy's head turned to face him, a small smile on her lips. Spike rolled her to her side and slid himself against her back, nuzzling into her neck as his hands trailed down her ribs and hips with feather-light touches.

"Feel better?"

Goosebumps rose across her flesh and Buffy didn't have the strength to rebut the smirk that she knew graced his face, too content with the warmth and all encompassing calm that seemed to still be rushing through her. She had never felt such things in all her life. The prospect of sex with anyone had been slim and now that she had experienced the tip of the iceberg she was intrigued.

Excited.

She curled her hand behind her to bring Spike's lips to hers.

"Yes."

Buffy felt that tense low tightening in her stomach building again and groaned as her hips rocked with Spike's as they lie on their sides lathering each other with kisses and small nips. Spike, she found, had a particular sensitive spot right behind his ear on his neck that when she bit down with the right amount of force had him shuddering and growling in her ear.

"Luv, you do any more of that and you'll be in for it."

"Oh will I just."

Buffy bit down again, smiling when he growled. Her eyes fluttered closed and her heart skipped a beat when he rolled her onto her back and pushed her into the mattress with his hips.

They both froze at the new position, Spike's eyes meeting hers slowly locking eyes. He hovered above her, not moving a muscle and it took her a moment to realise that she hadn't let out a breath in a few seconds.

With a shy smile Buffy slowly raised her leg, her thigh's moving to accommodate his hips. She felt his member come into contact with her center and knew that he would be able to hear how fast her heart was beating against her chest. Spike's head dropped to her chest a few moments later as he let out a breath of unnecessary air, hips pushing down against hers in a rocking motion as if he was trying to hold back.

"Just- just be gentle with me."

Her whispered words brought realism to the front. Spike knew that whatever physical bravado she had been showing in her moves and kisses moments earlier, underneath it all she was still nervous and afraid. At the base of everything Buffy Summers was still an eighteen year old young woman, kissing a man for the first time, having sex for the first time. Once he claimed her there would be no turning back.

Both of their lives would never be the same again.

"I'll do my best, luv."

He leaned forward and gave her the sweetest kiss that had Buffy melting. Spike reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance, slowly guiding his member back and forth, coating himself in her wetness. Claiming her lips in a passionate kiss, Spike pushed forward, swallowing her gasp of pain.

There were a few moments of discomfort and she felt herself clamp down and freeze before Spike was fully sheathed inside her. He was supporting himself above her and she couldn't stop her hands from gripping his hips as she panted away the initial pain of him invading her.

Spike felt the tight grip she had on his hips and thought that if he were to look down he would see the whites of her knuckles. When her breathing returned to normal he let himself dip, hips moving ever so slightly. Buffy's grip loosened with each shallow thrust until she was running her hands lightly across his back.

"You ok, luv?"

"Uh huh. It's better now. That... kinda sucked." She let out a nervous chuckle and met his eyes.

"Gonna move a little bit more, yeah."

"O-ok."

Spike pulled back until he was almost out and then slowly pushed his way forward again. Buffy's eyes rolled into the back of her head at this new sensation. Spike seemed to fill her completely, his body heavy atop hers, but not overpowering. Her hands raked down his back, one stopping to cup his backside and involuntary pull him hard upon her on his next thrust down.

Something changed within her causing her to clench around him, thrust after thrust pulling him closer. The hand that ran down his back became firmer and it wasn't too soon before her nails racked across his skin drawing blood.

Spike's demon came forth at the stinging feeling across his back and the smell of his blood as it assaulted his senses. Buffy had no idea what she had just started and he struggled to regain control of his demon. Still in game face he claimed her lips in a bruising kiss, his fangs nipped her lips and was surprised when she nipped back, her eyes squeezing closed as his body moved with hers.

Buffy tasted blood and something snapped, her eyes widened before she gasped at his strokes down. One of the hands that had been braced on either side of her head moved down to grip her bottom and pull her up to meet each of this thrusts. She moaned at the new sensation and couldn't stop the word that escaped her, his movements awakening something in her.

"Harder."

Something primal and dominant.

Spike growled against her neck and sped up his pace. The hands she was running down his back left deep and red marks in their wake. Buffy felt like she was floating, her limbs numb with lust. In all her wildest dreams she had never thought she would ever be doing what she was currently partaking in. Sure she'd had dreams of what it would be like to finally be with someone, but the way her body seemed to mold with his so perfectly had her eyes darkening with want.

Want. Take. Have.

Spike wasn't ready for what Buffy did next, but in the next blink of an eye he found himself on his back with Buffy sitting astride him, head thrown back, hand against his chest holding him down as she bounced away on his cock.

His demon came to the surface again, relishing in the sight of her breasts bouncing with every movement and protesting against the fact that she had taken dominance. He tried numerous times to change the tempo and movement of their hips, but Buffy let out a growl of her own and her eyes came down to meet his for the first time, daring him to move.

Eyes that flickered in the candlelight that littered the room. Eyes that were hers, but at the same time, not. They were sparkling green with flecks of gold and he found his own yellow eyes unable to break away from her gaze. He was bewitched and lost under her stare.

He let out a warning growl, pushing up against her chest and she fought to hold him down for a few moments. Spike pushed further forward and let out a deeper growl, showing his dominance over her and she blinked before they tumbled over, Spike once again taking control. He pinned her arms above her head and thrust into her with wild abandon, her thighs raised as she embraced his hips.

His teeth sent warning nips to her throat and at first she refused to relent her control, never baring her throat to him fully. The room was full of grunts and growls as they both tried to claim dominance over the other. Buffy managed to wrestle an arm free and wrapped her hands around the back of Spikes head, pulling his head to the side and baring his neck wide and open to her.

No sooner had she done this was her own neck left wide and open and like a viper snake striking it's meal, they struck. Teeth biting into flesh, blood rushing into each mouths as they came undone together.

Buffy felt something shift within her, it was like she was going through the becoming all over again. Discovering her body and strengths anew. She could feel the blood pulsing through her veins, felt another pulse within her, a connection being made. She could feel Spike, his strength as it rushed through her, engulfing her. She felt his demon within her, content and purring as it claimed her as his.

She felt different.

She felt whole.

She felt safe.

Spike lapped at the wound on his mates neck before pulling back and meeting her gaze. She smiled contently at him, flecks of gold glimmering in her green eyes for a few seconds before her body went slack and she passed out beneath him.

"Bloody hell."

................................................

In the room down the hall a very proud mother stroked the cheek of her brand new bub, her smiling husband snuggled up against her side.

"Isn't he just the cutest thing you've ever seen."

"He's perfect."

Oz was swollen with pride. When he had heard Willows screams earlier that day and the piercing way it had broken the silence he had thought for sure something was wrong. Spending the last five hours by her side as she worked so hard to bring their child into this world was a day he was very unlikely to forget.

"Oliver."

Willow smiled, tears in her eyes as she kissed first Oz and then little Oliver's head.

"Our little Ollie."

"Oliver Osbourne."

Oz beamed, chest puffed and proud as his child sucked on the finger he had offered. Everything in that moment was perfect.

.......................................

In the library of the castle Giles and Tara clinked their glasses together as they sat back and relaxed over wine. The last five hours had been taxing, Giles having been unable to climb onto his mount after Oz had suddenly sprinted off into the distance after hearing something only his werewolf ears could pick up. The look on his face though had Giles picking up his pace and by the time he arrived back onto the estate Tara had met him at the gate, a sparkle in her eyes.

"It's baby day!"

"Oh good Lord."

They had struggled and stumbled to get Buffy's passed out form off the back of the horse and into the castle, but as soon as they reached the shadows of the foyer Spike had come to their rescue and carried her the rest of the way. Neither made a comment when Spike chose to not place Buffy in the room she had been previously kept in, instead placing her gently on his bed.

Giles had raised an eyebrow and Tara worried her bottom lip when Spike reached for some bindings to tie her to the bed. Both knew that these precautions were necessary and when Spike had remarked on the cut to Giles arm he knew not to voice his opinions on the matter.

Time had rushed by quickly after that, shouts from Willow further down the hall had everyone but Spike rushing to her aid. Instead, he sat in his leather chair across from the bed and watched Buffy sleep.

Giles had been hesitant to enter the room Willow was going to be birthing her child in. Birthing was a private matter, one for women to partake in, but when she insisted on his presence and Tara had all but begged for his help asking him to be prepared to hand her towels and utensils should she need them, he had come in.

Oz had spent hours rubbing soothing circles onto his wife's back, murmuring encouraging words into her ear as she panted, sweat pouring from her skin at the exertion. Minuets or hours later Giles wasn't sure, time seemed to blur together, but then there was a piercing wail and a child was born. Brought into the world screaming, red faced and very unhappy that he had just been ripped from the warmth of his protective cocoon.

"Do you think h-he'll do it tonight?"

"Hmm?"

"Spike. Do you think he'll do it tonight."

"He has to." Giles rubbed his head, the spot Buffy had knocked him still sore. "We don't have the luxury of taking anymore time to find an alternative solution I'm afraid. If their even is such a solution. Drusilla is coming forth in more and more frequent bursts to the point where it's physically starting to affect Buffy."

"The scratching, yeah. I-I can't imagine having someone else t-taking control of your body like that." Tara shuddered at the thought.

Giles only nodded his head in agreement, lost in thought over the day's events.

They both sipped their wine, sitting back in their chairs next to his desk. The parchments and scrolls that pertained to the prophecy still lumped in their three respective piles as they had been since the night before.

Tara caught Giles staring and worried her lip, taking a breath before speaking.

"Are you worried that by Spike c-claiming Buffy that it will effect the prophecy."

Giles took a few moments before downing his glass, pulling the glasses from his face and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm worried that by Spike claiming Buffy he will inevitably start the prophecy. I don't know how much good can come from this, but we don't have any other choice."

Giles rummaged through a few parchments and found one from the pile written in Latin, a drawing attached. A drawing of a woman with scars on her face lying down, blood spilling from the wound to her stomach.

"Oh!'

Tara's wide-eyed gasp had Giles slumping back into his chair, wine goblet refilling his glass as he stared into the red liquid.

"Oh indeed."

Drusilla knew from the moment she had tried to form a connection with her Dollie that no further attempts would work. Her connection had been broken.

Permanently.

With a vicious and enraged growl, she grabbed the nearest item next to her and throwing it. The sound of porcelain shattering against the stonewalls waking Angelus from his slumber who lie next to her.

"That took me a long time to track down, Dru. It's one of a kind." He stared at the porcelain item she'd crushed in her rage with frustrated eyes.

"They broke it!" Stomping to the center of the room, the vampiress screamed.

"I'm pretty sure you broke the vase Dru-" He growled, sitting up.

"My hold over dolly, it's broken! My William has gone and ruined everything. Ohhhh." Drusilla dropped to floor and wailed, her hands shaking as they scratched at her head, pulling chunks of hair out in her wake. "Break it. Broken it down they did. Little dolly is all lost now. Out in the dark she is. He's taken her from us! Make him pay my love." Her big eyes looked up at him pleadingly.

Angelus had gotten up from the bed and had begun circling Drusilla, knowing that when she was in one of her fits it was best to leave her be. Get too close and you would be on the receiving end of one of her vicious claws and he had the marks across his chest where she had last lashed out to prove it. Absentmindedly he rubbed his chest.

"Riley should have been back by now." He murmured, lost in thought as he paced back and forth across the small room.

"Dark. It's all dark. Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark."

Drusilla was rocking back and forth as she whispered her chant, pulling her hair and shaking her head, her eyes unfocused as Angelus circled her slowly.

"William always did think he could take what was rightfully mine." He wasn't talking to her, simply out loud as he thought.

"Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark."

"Would you shut the fuck up! I can't hear myself think."

Fists clenched as he paced, Angelus growled low, eyes flashing yellow. He had big plans for the little blonde bitch that had escaped and now that her time had finally come he was going to put his plans into action.

"I do believe it's about time that we gave little William a visit. What do you say my love? Do you want to go see young Willie?"

"Can we take the young daddy? He always screams the loudest." Drusilla smiled maniacally. "I do love his screams. Daddy screams..." Drusilla giggled.

Angelus grinned as she trailed off, holding his hand out to his childe and mate. Her cold pale hand slipped into his and he smirked as she slid up his body, hands wounding up around his neck.

"You always do have the best ideas." Angelus grinned, his own hands slipping low across her back.

"Do I daddy? Mmmm can we make him scream?"

"We can do whatever we want with him."

Drusilla smiled and closed her eyes, content as she tucked her head into the shoulder of her mate, his arms around her.

"We will make them all bleed. Dead. They will all be dead, dead, dead." She took a step back and started twirling. "Ohhh and then little dollie will be ours. Ripe for the picking. Just like sunshine."

"Then we'll just have to crush out the sunshine won't we." Angelus said, attemping to soothe and appease her as she spun.

"She glows gold, my love." Drusilla stopped her twirling, eyes narrowing. "You can't stomp out the sun."

Angelus rolled his eyes at the nonsense pouring from Drusillas mouth. Some days he swore she was missing more than a few marbles, but then again he only had himself to blame. He had spent weeks if not months tormenting her, messing with her mind before capturing her and turning her.

Yes, she was his creation.

Crazy as she was, she was his.

His mate.

"Let's go pay young Willie a visit."

Drusilla let out another maniacal laugh as she trailed after her mate.


.........................................................


Darkness.

That's what she first felt as she floated in a sea of nothing. Complete blackness surrounding her like a thick fog. For how long she floated like that she wasn't sure, but soon enough an image started to appear. Blurry at first, but slowly clearing to become a sharp image.

Hands that were not her own begun ripping pieces of parchment to shreds as tears that were not her own fell down upon them. Buffy knew she was dreaming, she had tried to wake herself up when the images first started coming and found herself unable to do so. She was a simple voyeur in this body.

A body she couldn't see, but one she didn't need to.

Somehow she knew it was Spikes.

She was sitting in a dark alley on top of a bundled pile of hay, something obviously having happened to make him so heart stricken and upset. A voice broke through the darkness and she felt his heart racing within his chest.

"I wonder... what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?"

A woman stepped from the shadows and within an instant Buffy recognised her.

"N-nothing. I wish to be alone."

The voice she seemed to produced from Spike's body sounded nothing like the Spike she had been listening to for the last few days. This voice was softer, more meek.

Gentle.

Weak.

"Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength, his vision, his glory. That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head."

Spike backed away from Drusilla nervously. Buffy felt his feet stumble on the stones beneath his feet, butterflies in his chest and unable to stop the images. The scene continued to play out as she watched trapped from within Spike's body.

"That's quite close enough. I've heard tales of pickpockets. Y-you'll not be getting my purse, I tell you."

Drusilla smiled and advanced.

"Don't need a purse." She pointed straight at his heart and head in succession and Buffy felt Spike pause. "Your wealth lies here... and here. In the spirit and... imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

"Run!" Buffy screamed inside, trying against all her might to move the limbs she knew she couldn't. She felt her eyes fixed to Drusilla's, felt the fear in Spike's chest, but also the curiousness.

Curiousness towards Drusilla and her insight into his own character.

"Oh, yes! I mean, no. I mean... mother's expecting me."

Spike stumbled again when Drusilla stepped forward and pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, heart hammering away in his chest.

"I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something... effulgent."

His eyes widened and his breath stopped.

"Effulgent." He whispered, staring at her in awe.

She knew.

"Do you want it?"

"Oh, yes!" He reached out a hand to touch her. "God, yes."

Drusilla glanced down towards his neck, her face changing as her fangs descended. Spike tried to stumble backwards, not sure what his eye were seeing, the firm grip she had on him hindering any further movement. His neck stung as she buried her fangs into his flesh.

Buffy heard Spike cry out in pain and couldn't help the shouted "No!" that rushed through her. Spike's cries soon turned to moans as Drusilla dragged him to the ground, greedily sipping away on his blood.

His life force.

She had just ended his human existence.

No!

As soon as the dream had started it was over and Buffy slipped into a calming blackness once again, a feeling of warmth surrounding her. She knew it was all a dream, but at the same time knew that it wasn't.

It was a memory.

Spike's memory.

She had just been witness to the turning point in his life, the exact moment that his human life had ended and his immortal existence had started.

Darkness descended over her like a cloud and she was floating once more.

Spike couldn't see.

He couldn't move.

He tried to turn his body, but his hands seemed to be tied above his head. He surmised that they had been that way for some time as they were numb, fingers tingling. His eyes fluttered as he tried to breathe.

Breathe.

He was breathing. Something he hadn't done in over one-hundred years.

He was dreaming.

The body he seemed to be stuck in was in pain, their breathing labored. It was a sure sign that the rib-cage was damaged and bone was pushing against the chest the wrong way after having their arms strung up for so long, back pushed against the cold brick wall. The back of the body he was in stung, skin feeling stretched, old wounds not fully healed.

It took him a few moments to figure it out, but he knew whose body he was in. Buffy's.

Buffy's very naked and cold body.

"He's not very happy with you at the moment."

Buffy jumped in the darkness, her eyes trying to scan for any movement in the room. A door behind her had opened and there was a silhouette in the shadow created to her left of a tall man.

Spike knew that voice, knew it before Buffy's bitter and shaky voice ground it out.

"Riley." She spat out. "H-He's never happy with me. We both know that."

"And still you run."

He sounded amused, and Spike felt his blood boil. He could feel Buffy's body shaking in pain, against the cold and fear she felt as Riley advanced.

"I'll never stop."

Buffy ground out, eyes and lips set firm in the darkness.

"Neither will I."

The scream that tore through her lips had Spike's unbeating heart lurching. He could feel the blood dripping from her back, down her bottom and legs to slowly drop to the floor. The stretched taunt skin of her unhealed back once again cut open by the whip Riley had used.

"F-fuck you." Buffy spat out against the pain, another scream ripping through her as Riley cracked the whip once again.

Spike wished he could stop the pain, stop the torture, but knew he couldn't. He tried to close his eyes, not wishing to see any more, but this was Buffy's body. Her memory and he was a simple voyeur.

He felt Buffy's fear, her determination, her fight to stay strong. As the whipping went on he felt her slipping in and out of consciousness. Felt her determination gone, replaced only by pain and fear, the fight she showed now waning until there was almost nothing else left.

Spike's vision was skewed as tears fell from Buffy's eyes, her head rolling with a heavy thud to fall into her arms that hung above her.

"Kill me. P-please just kill me."

No!

He was unsure if Riley had heard her whispered words or not, but one more blow to her blood covered back had her slipping from consciousness.

Darkness surrounded him and Spike was once again floating in a sea of nothing once more.



..............................



Buffy was in Spike's body again, fighting in a crowd in a large ballroom she did not recognise. He was surrounded by armed men all wielding weapons. He should have been afraid and yet she could feel the glee and excitement emanating from him.

He was enjoying this.

"Just like I pictured it. This good for you?"

He laughed as a few men with swords charged him and he cut them down easily, using their own weapons to kill them, his newly stolen sword flickering through the air in a deadly blur.

Spike landed several kicks and punches to the heads and chests of the next wave of men that fought to throw him down, serving only to further enrage the vampire. He rushed with speed and strength, knocking down one after the other, blood spattering his clothes and spilling onto the floor.

"You will die!"

Spike laughed at one man's statement, grabbing him by the throat and twisting, snapping his neck in a mere blink.

"No I will no'." He vamped out and slashed at the two remaining men in the room who stumbled and slipped on the blood that was slowly pooling on the floor. "I'm already dead mate."

With one man left to go, Spike enjoyed the fear that spread to his eyes, heart racing. His fellow warriors all lay fallen before him and Spike took great pride in slowly stalking his last prey until he was pressed up against a wall.

"P-please, I have a family."

Spike smiled in understanding and then shrugged.

"So do I. And we're all hungry."

He snapped and bit viciously into the man's neck, groaning when the blood hit the back of his throat, sating the hunger his demon had felt. With each pull he took from the man's neck he could feel his heart slowing until there was nothing left. Silence filled the room and his face fell back to normal, letting the man fall to the ground haphazardly.

Panting heavily, Spike licked his lips with pleasure, eyes closing. Sated.

"A bloke could get used to this."

Buffy felt a calm wash through Spike's body, herself sickened at the glee he had felt while killing, nay, slaughtering those men. She felt a tiny hand wind its way across his stomach and onto his belt buckle.

"Oh, Spike, look at the wonderful mess you've made. All that blood. Like a red river! Naughty... wicked... Spike."

In the next instant Buffy was looking into Drusilla's eyes and try as she might, nothing could close the eyes she was looking through. Drusilla's face would haunt her for the rest of her days. Spike had her pinned to the wall, lust filled looks being sent between them.

"Blood," Spike moaned. "Most powerful aphrodisiac there is." He thrust his hips against hers and Drusilla helped him lift her skirts. "Have a taste." A blood soaked hand reached into Buffy's line of sight and she gagged when Drusilla brought a finger to her lips and sucked on them greedily.

She tried not to, tried to pull herself out of the dream, but nothing could stop the moan that escapes Spike's lips. Nothing could escape Spike's grin before he crushed his lips against hers.

Lips he had used hours or minutes before to kiss her so passionately in his bed.

Buffy was pulled from the memory and was once again floating in a sea of nothingness.


........................................................



Darkness again.

Darkness surrounded him as his eyes opened, struggling to breathe and gasping low when something touched the tender skin of Buffy's back. There was no energy to move, she had nothing left to give that hadn't already been taken.

I'm regretting not making that pillocks death more painful.

The room was shadowed in very dim light and Spike was grateful when a pair of tiny hands reached forward with a small cup and a soft voice reached Buffy's ears.

"You need to drink."

Something cold met Buffy's lips and she sipped the water slowly. Her back on fire, body sticking to the small cot she lay on, arms still numb from having been stretched so high for so long.

"P-please just let me die."

Buffy could hear the sob and the strain in the woman's voice as she replied to her request.

"Y-you know I can't."

Spike got the feeling that Buffy knew the girl, felt calm in her presence and also felt sorry for her. From the dragging on chains against stone floor as the girl moved, Spike knew she was also a prisoner. Buffy let her tears fall freely, holding her breath when the woman did her best to wipe away the blood that caked her sides and legs before setting to the delicate task of cleaning her wounds to the best of her ability in the dark.

"P-please." Buffy's voice faint. "Kill me..."

Spike battled against the fog that seemed to engulf Buffy, trying to keep her awake.

Keep fighting, luv.

Darkness took Spike again and he was in blackness, floating once more.

Hands reached across the bed unconsciously in a desperate need to touch the others skin, to form the physical connection they both craved. Both were still locked in their separate dreams, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, but able to feel the distress and pain rolling off of each other through their newly formed bond.

Buffy tensed and tried to shy away from her mate upon his first touch as his body moved closer to press flush against hers. His hands trailed down one thigh before his cool lips pressed themselves against her skin causing her eyes to slowly open and close just as quickly, still half lost in her dreams.

"What have you done to me?"

His words were murmured into her neck as Spike pushed his hips against the curve of her backside. Buffy pushed back against him and whimpered in her sleep at the feel of her mate's arousal. Spike, knowing what they both needed reached down between them and pushed her thighs apart, bending one leg back over his hips. Ever so slowly he slid into her, Buffy murmuring nonsensical words into the darkness.

At his second thrust into her warmth something sparked between them and suddenly their eyes snapped open, dreams finished. The trance-like state they had both been in fell away and they were awake once more. Spike slipped from her body and rolled them until he was once again above her, sliding himself into her welcoming heat.

Hips rocking together, he lent down and slowly lapped at the marks he had made on her neck.

Buffy had tears in her eyes and couldn't help the sob that escaped her as images from the dreams and memories she had just experienced while in Spike's body flooded her mind. She had seen so many sides to him in those shared memories and hadn't liked any of what she had witnessed.

The things he had done.

The people he had killed.

The woman he professed to loved.

Drusilla.

"You're mine now." It was as if he had read her thoughts as Buffy suddenly found it hard to breathe, Spike's blue cerulean eyes staring down at her with such intensity that she froze beneath him. She could feel him, feel his worry and his distress. She felt his pain and sorrow towards her at having to witness his past and watched as his eyes softened and his voice whispered down to her. "Never let anything happen to you."

Buffy didn't want to feel anything for the creature that lay nestled inside her. The creature who was so capable of killing without a second thought.

A vampire. A monster.

Spike could snap her neck at any moment and yet she felt herself shudder at the mere thought of him ever hurting her. Of him ever leaving her.

"W-what have you done to me?"

She fought so hard against the feelings that were welling inside her, tears forming and slipping from her eyes as his body rocked with hers. She didn't want him or his touch anywhere near her in that moment. Suddenly it was all too much and with a sudden show of force Buffy pushed Spike from her body and rolled from the bed, pulling the sheet with her as she stood. On shaky legs she walked to the large doors that led to the balcony and took a deep breath as the crisp night air met her.

"Buffy-"

"Don't!"

Buffy tensed when she felt Spike take a step towards her, clutching the sheet tight to her chest and wiping away at the tears that slipped freely down onto her cheeks.

"Please don't."

She could feel Spike's worry as much as he felt her distress, neither knowing the right move to make next, but both knowing that they needed the other.

" 'M guessing you had a few dreams of your own then, luv." Spike sat on the end of the bed, dragging a sheet across his naked hips.

"Don't call me that!"

"Buffy-"

"How could you do it?" Buffy spun to face him, tear filled and angry eyes meeting his. "How could you kill all those people?" She paused, voice dropping. "You enjoyed it." The horrified whisper had Spike looking down. "They had family's and children! And you just-" Buffy ran a shaky hand through her hair, her gaze dropping to the ground as she whispered, her thoughts racing through one memory to the next. "How could you love someone like that? What she did to me-"

"Buffy, I-"

"I don't want your pity!" Buffy shouted, eyes wide and tears falling, heart racing.

"She's my sire-"

"She's a monster!" She wiped angrily at the tears that still fell. "You are all monsters."

Standing in the open doorway to the balcony had goosebumps rising across her skin. Spike moved to stand, sheet bunched together in one fist as he gripped it at his waist.

"Luv, it's not like that. I would never-" He took an unnecessary breath, stepping closer. "What they did to you-"

"I didn't ask for any of this!" Buffy jumped when she finally looked up, eyes wide when she noticed that he had moved closer to her. "Oh God." She ran a hand through her hair and stared at the rumpled bed and the pillows that had been tossed around the room, sheets spilling onto the floor. "What have we done? I-It's not natural. I don't know what I feel anymore. I shouldn't feel like this!"

Buffy was shaking by the time Spike reached her, standing in front of her with concern in his eyes.

"Luv-"

"There still feels like there's something inside me and I can't control it. I can't-" Her hands were shaking as she tearfully grabbed at her own chest.

"Buffy calm down."

"Make it stop. Make it stop!"

She was on the verge of having a panic attack with the way she was heavily breathing, body shaking and skin as white as a ghost.

"What's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, luv."

Spike grabbed the hand that was scratching at her chest and entwined their fingers. The contact seemed to calm Buffy down so Spike slowly took a step closer, pulling her body against his own. With one hand still bunching the sheet at his hip and hers still clutching her sheet to her chest he walked them backwards and inside the room where it was warmer.

When Spike felt the mattress against the back of his legs he met her gaze and was entranced. Gold flickering eyes met his and he sat back in awe.

His golden goddess was staring intently back at him, her eyes almost sparkling.

Buffy's breathing had returned to normal, but now he was feeling something else through their bond. Something desperate coupled with a sense of belonging. Power.

Eyes never leaving his, Buffy tilted her head to the side as she pulled her lower lip under her teeth, their hands still entwined. She let the sheet she was holding up fall to the floor, eyes closing and letting out a few heavy breaths as Spike's eyes raked over her body. Slowly, one thigh was placed astride each of his until she was sitting in his lap.

Buffy lead their entwined hands to her back where Spike took over, running his fingers down the scars that marred her skin. She didn't know what had possessed her to move in such a way, but knew that she craved physical contact from her mate. Spike would ease her pain. Buffy lifted herself up and reached between them to place Spike's member at her entrance, something deeper inside her knowing what she needed most and taking over control.

Spike let out a low growl as Buffy slowly lowered herself, head thrown back in contentment. Spike grabbed hold of her bottom and thrust upward making her gasp. She squeezed her inner muscles and his demon burst forth, pure pleasure on his face as she swayed her hips against his. Buffy's hand traced his demonic features, the other on his chest as she moved to his lips and cut herself on one fang.

"You're mine now."

She repeated his words before letting the blood drop from her finger onto his chest. Spike grabbed her wrist and brought the dripping finger to his mouth, yellow eyes meeting her flickering gold gaze as he sucked the bleeding digit. Buffy let out a moan and again squeezed her inner muscles around his thick member. Spike growled again, sending tingles through her body as his hands adjusted their grip and helped lift her up and down until she was bouncing away.

The candles still softly glowed in the room and Spike thought that in that moment, as Buffy's tangled golden hair shone under it's glow that it was as if she was standing under pure sunlight. Her hands left his chest and came to play with her own breasts, fingers flicking at her nipples and giving Spike a rather nice view. He traced his hands up her back, readjusting, and then flipping them over until she was once again underneath him.

Spike slowed his thrusts to lavish Buffy's breasts with kisses, but his mate was having none of that.

Buffy wanted more.

I need more.

She needed more.

Buffy's body had taken over, a hunger deep inside her craving something that only Spike could give her. She was in a dream, her body feeling things that weren't her own. Movements and sounds coming from her that she had no control over and when Spike growled deep and low like he was, something took over. She rolled and pushed her mate back down against the mattress and then rose to all fours, turning so that she faced the other way, sending a seductive smile over her shoulder.

Spike needed no other invitation and plunged into her from behind. Buffy let out a gasp and a shout at the new sensation. Harder and faster was what she wanted and as if her mate was reading her mind he delivered just that. Before she could move her hand to her sex, Spike slipped his own down between them, splaying his fingers across her stomach before dipping lower to her sex and playing with her clit. Buffy felt her body tightening as signs of her oncoming release rushed through her.

Spike pushed her thighs further apart and pistoned his hips, rubbing her quim with fever right before he pulled her upright, her back flush with his chest.

"Christ you're gorgeous."

And all mine.

Spike bit down on his mark and they both came undone together. They collapsed on the bed, spent. Buffy curled herself up in his arms as they lie side by side, Spike's hand cradling her head while the other splayed across her stomach.

Buffy had a small smile on her face as she shifted closer and let out a content sigh, the hand on her stomach intertwined with her own. She felt peace is his arms, the feel of him surrounding her washing away any thoughts of the dreams she'd had earlier.

Spike couldn't put his thoughts together, his feelings all jumbled. His mate lie in his arms, drifting off into a peaceful sleep and yet he was confused. Buffy still looked like Buffy, but then at times during their coupling she was not herself. She had been so close to having a panic attack earlier and then as soon as he'd touched her, her eyes had flickered gold and something had taken over her. Something he had never felt or witnessed before. Something strong, powerful.

Something primal.

Spike closed his eye's and let himself feel everything Buffy felt, hoping to catch a glimpse into the strength that lie dormant deep within her.

His mate felt sated and content.

Safe.

"What have you done to me?" He whispered into the darkness once again.

Buffy woke to the dull aching of sore muscles and limbs, her body protesting at having fallen asleep in an awkward position all night. With a groan, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to stretch out her arms and legs, but found her movements hindered.

Spike was spooned against her back, one arm protectively splayed across her stomach, his fingertips just touching the scars on her hip.

Scars that no longer ached or burned.

"Weird."

He must have heard her mutter or felt her stirring because he too was starting to rouse and by the way his brows furrowed together it was clear that he wasn't happy about being awake in the early hours of the morning. He let out a low growl and pulled her close, humming an almost purr into her ear as he nuzzled into her neck.

Tingles shot through her body that sent a flood of goosebumps across her skin in their wake as flashes of the events that had transpired the evening before assaulted her mind.

With a tentative and shaky hand Buffy reached for her neck, eyes wide and in shock as her fingers met with tender skin, letting out a wince of pain in response. She glanced at her hand after pulling it back and saw the dried smudges of blood on her fingers, knowing that Spike had made his mark on her flesh. Rolling in his embrace she saw bite marks on his neck and licked her lips involuntarily, not tasting anything copper in her mouth, but knowing from the bruising around his wound that it was her teeth that had done the biting.

Bewilderment struck Buffy as she slowly sat up further and looked around the torn and tattered room.

The sheets they had slept on were left mostly in shreds, ripped and torn and half hanging off of the bed, falling to the floor. The candles that had once been carefully placed on ledges and sills were left thrown about the floor and had obviously dripped onto the walls after being knocked over at some point during the night as candle-wax spilled everywhere.

Buffy didn't remember doing any of that.

As she sat up in the bed further, almost fully out of Spike's embrace, she noticed that her chest and arms were covered in dried blood and that a matching set of scratch marks marred not only her skin, but Spike's as well.

Buffy narrowed her eyes to focus on the end of the bed. She wasn't too sure, but looking at the posts that held the bed together she was quite positive that there were two hand prints in blood around them. The bloodied prints looked too small to be Spikes and after taking a second look at her own fingers she realised that those gripped marks had been made by her. Her bloodied hands had held onto those posts some point during the night.

What happened last night?

Flashes of skin and yellow eyes, Spike's eyes, came to the surface and were gone just as quickly as they had come. Spike was sitting up now, having heard her heart racing and felt the distress rolling off of her in waves as it flooded to him through their bond.

"You alright, luv?"

Buffy was staring at her dried bloodied hands as she shook her head 'no' before giving him another once over. His chest was a scratched up mess, neck bruised and bloodied form where she had clearly bitten him. Spike looked like he had just survived a vicious fight. Barely.

"Buffy-" He reached out a tentative hand and took her shaky hands within his own calm cool ones.

"What happened last night?" Watering and confused green eyes met his clear blue gaze. "What did I do to you?"

"Last nigh' was-"

"I d-don't remember." Buffy's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes wide as she snatched her hands from Spike's and made a move to wrap the remnants of a bed sheet around her naked from.

She hadn't meant to hurt him with her words and something deep inside her let out a small pang of guilt forcing her to make eye contact with him to ease his pain. Spike glanced away quickly trying to not let her words affect him, but it was no use. They were a mated pair now and nothing could stop the knowing of the other when their mate was in pain or distress.

"Amazing." Spike whispered, smiling towards her softly and feeling that a small part of her was quite insecure. "You were amazing."

Buffy blushed at his words and looked away, pulling the sheet around her shoulders as she stood and walked towards the now burnt-out fireplace.

"I-I don't remember-" she paused, closing her eyes as images rushed to the surface. "I mean, I remember s-some things, but I don't-" Buffy clenched her fists together in frustration. "I don't understand what's happening to me. I remember doing I-It."

"I would have hoped I wasn' that forgettable, luv." Spike's remark made her blush as she stumbled over her words.

"W-what I don't remember is doing all of this." Her eyes scanned the destroyed room from the bloodied bed posts and overthrown candles all the way down to the torn sheets that Spike had pulled up to cover his waist with. "I don't remember doing any of that to you. I d-don't remember hurting you so badly."

Tears had formed in her eyes and Spike could feel the fear and guilt coming through their connection and frowned at why she was feeling that way.

"You didn' hurt me, luv. If anything I enjoyed it."

"But you're black and blue with bruises and-" Buffy pointed to the marks covering his skin and then glanced down at her bloodied hands in slight fear of her own strengths.

"Vampire here, pet."

Don't remind me.

Buffy closed her eyes against the harsh reminder to her current situation and the affects on her life that it would forever make. She brushed the stray hairs from her face and began pacing the room, Spike watching her intently as she moved.

"Why can't I remember?"

Spike didn't say a word as she walked back and forth muttering under her breath, her brows constantly creasing together as she tried to piece together her fractured memories from the night before. She wasn't in shock or having a panic attack that much Spike knew for certain. What he was feeling through their connection, however, felt more like a dazed confusion.

"I've never been with anyone so-" Spike's eyes shone as he gazed at her, speaking to break the silence and keep her focused on something. He took a deep and unnecessary breath as he reminisced on the evening. "Primal."

Primal...

"Primal?"

Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, repeating his words and stared widely at Spike, not knowing how much fear that word instilled in her. There was no possible way that he could have known how much power that word held and how using it to describe the evening before scared her so much. Flashes of parchments read from her childhood came to the forefront of her mind that had Buffy glancing around the room for her garments.

"It was primal, animalistic in a way. Can't say I've ever had anyone challenge me like tha' before, but in the end I think we both did a bit of yielding." Spike raised one eyebrow suggestively.

"No..."

"Pretty sure my memory is working better than yours at the moment, pet." He smirked and seemed to slink back onto his elbows on the bed, watching in amusement as Buffy rushed about the room lifting up her torn clothing from the floor and grimacing when she saw that it was unwearable.

"Dammit!" Throwing her sleeping garment to the floor, Buffy ignored Spike as he spoke and continued her search for something to wear that wasn't a blood stained torn sheet. Through their bond she could feel Spike's amusement at watching her as well as his contentment. He was happy.

"Don't know your own strength yet, luv. There were a few moments last night that had me at a loss and when you looked at me with those eyes." Spike let out a groan at the memory. "Well-"

"Eyes? W-what eyes?" Buffy paused at the wooden drawers she had just pulled open, thankful that she had found Spike's collection of shirts.

"Golden sparkling eyes." Spike smiled and met her gaze, half wishing for that sparkle to shine back at him like it had the night before. Upon seeing the look that fell across Buffy's face though had Spike sitting upright, concern rushing forward in a slight panic. He didn't like that look one bit.

"G-gold flecks? Like the flickering of sunlight?" Buffy whispered her question in fear, already knowing the answer he was going to give. She was sure her face was a mask of white, all the blood having rushed to her gut at what his spoken words meant.

"That's one way to describe it, yeah."

No!

Grabbing at whichever shirt she could reach first, Buffy pulled the garment over her head, letting it fall to her thighs before running from the room.

"Buffy!"

She didn't spare a glance behind her as she ran through the halls and down a flight of stairs, trying her best to remember the way she had been taken to the library where she had first met Giles. Where her father's parchments currently were.

Spike jumped up from the bed as soon as her bare legs had rushed from the room. He found his pants on the floor and quickly pulled them on, not bothering with his boots or a shirt before he too swiftly ran from the room after her.

He followed the sound of her footfalls on the stone floor and listened as she ran down a flight of stairs before rounding a corner and thrusting open the doors to the library.

"Where is it?"

Spike heard Buffy's frantic whispered plea as the shuffling of parchments followed suit.

"Dear God! What on earth happened to you my dear? Are you hurt?"

"Where is it?"

Spike came into the room to see Giles standing from his chair with shock written all over his face as Tara slowly came out of her sleeping state, slowly pulling herself up from leaning on the desk. He heard the gasp that escaped her lips and the horrified look she sent his way when he stepped further into the room.

"Buffy are you quite alright, dear?" Giles reached to touch her shoulder and she shied away from him, not wanting to be touched.

"W-what did you do to her?" Tara was staring at the dried blood that covered Buffy's arms and legs, the shirt she wore doing little to cover the results of their mating.

"I didn't hurt the girl, luv-"

"She looks bloody well beaten by the looks of it!" Giles snapped, cutting off Spike and Tara before either could continue. Buffy's frantic search continued as she sifted through the parchments at a rushed pace, glancing at each page for mere seconds before discarding them. Her heart was racing and it had Spike on edge.

"I know it's here I've seen it-"

"What are you looking for, dear?"

"Before...." Buffy trailed off as her fingers grasped the page she had been searching for. It was a small parchment completely written in Latin and had a drawing attached to it. A drawing of a woman with scars on her face, lying down with blood spilling from a deep wound to her stomach.

"What is it?" Spike stepped forward and was frozen at the defeated and fearful voice that responded to his question.

"This is what you have just condemned me to." The page slipped from Buffy's fingers and fell to the desk as tears filled her eyes. Her hands began to shake leaving Spike frozen in place at the feelings he was getting through their bond.

Death.

Buffy believed that he had just condemned her to death.

"C-come on let's give you a bath." Tara stuttered, tentatively stepping forward to slide her hand around Buffy's elbow gently and lead her from the room. Giles pulled the glasses from his face with one hand as the other picked up the fallen parchment. Spike made a move to reach out to Buffy as she and Tara passed him, but was silenced with a his.

"Don't touch me!"

"Buffy-"

"Perhaps it's best if you leave the girl alone for the moment."

Giles was firm with his words and Spike knew deep down that he should listen. Their bond was still new, fractured and week. It would strengthen in time and with each day, but he couldn't help feeling the pang of pain she felt, wanting nothing more than to be nearer to her to help ease her worries and fears.

"Fine." He ground out and watched Tara lead a sniffling Buffy from the room. When the doors shut behind them he turned to face Giles, who was staring at the parchment intently.

"Are you worried that by Spike c-claiming Buffy that it will effect the prophecy."

"I'm worried that by Spike claiming Buffy he will inevitably start the prophecy. I don't know how much good can come from this, but we don't have any other choice."

"Oh!'

"Oh indeed."

"Giles? What is it?"

Giles stared at the image of the wounded and bleeding woman and then at the rest of the parchments on his desk. Parchments and scrolls that had once been sorted into three respective piles that now lie strewn across his desk haphazardly and in no order.

"Go and clean yourself up and then we'll talk."

"I don-"

"I can't look at you while you're covered in the girl's blood!"

"Right." Spike nodded and backed away from his friend who appeared to be quite shaken and made a beeline for the door. As the doors closed behind him he heard Giles voice whisper a defeated sigh.

"What have we done?"

"L-let's get you cleaned up."

Tara led Buffy down the halls of the castle and into a modest sized room that instantly had her at ease, her shoulders relaxing upon reflex as she took in a deep breath. Her assumption that the room was Tara's was confirmed when she was directed to sit down on a chaise lounge that sat along one wall, while Tara fluttered about the room gathering an armful of items together. She pulled a large basin of water towards her and knelt at floor level with the basin, closing her eyes in concentration and stretching out her fingers to hover just above the water.

"Incendio."

"You're a witch too?"

The water seemed to boil under Tara's fingertips until Buffy could see the steam rising from the basin.

"I'm learning." Tara smiled and stood back up. She stuttered as she spoke, walking around the room gathering clean cloths for bathing. "Willow is a lot b-better than me, but she's teaching me. W-with the help of Giles of course." Tara let out a little laugh and shook her head as a memory seemed to overtake her.

Buffy smiled at Tara's remark after seeing the laughter that lit up her eyes. She was a shy woman, ever evident by her stammering voice, but Buffy felt calm in her presence and very much at ease.

"Thank you."

"W-what for? I haven't-" Tara dropped the cloths into the hot water to let them soak.

"For being kind to me."

"Oh." Tara trailed off, dipping her fingers into the water to test its heat before pulling a cloth out and ringing out the water. "Y-you're welcome. You've been through a lot recently and no one should be made to feel, uhm-"

"It's ok." Buffy didn't know what else to say, cutting off Tara who was struggling over her words, in an attempt to make her feel better.

"No it's not!" Tara almost dropped the rung out cloth back into the basin of water over her sharp remark. "I'm so sorry I-" she stammered. "It's not ok. You're covered in b-blood and b-bruises. We were supposed to help you and I f-fear that we've only managed to make things worse. I'm so sorry." She handed the cloth to Buffy, tears forming in her blue eyes.

Buffy started wiping her arms down in silence, staring intently with each swipe as the dried blood was removed from her skin. The cloth was hot to the touch and it felt good, almost cathartic in a way as each burning warm glide helped remove any evidence from the evening before. With each wipe across her skin she seemed to push down harder, wanting nothing more than to be rid of every mark and memory, but it didn't take long for the cloth to be covered in crimson or for the tears that she was holding back to form in her eyes.

"There was no other way."

The cloth fell back into the basin at her feet as Tara held up her hand with a fresh one. They locked eyes briefly, both knowing that Buffy's statement was true. There was no other way that Drusilla's hold over Buffy could have been broken.

It was their only choice.

"I-I'm so sorry." Tara whispered, guilt written all over her face to which Buffy smiled sadly at assuring her that she wasn't to blame. "I d-don't know what happened between you and Spike, b-but it must have been pretty bad for you to look like this. M-may I?" Tara motioned towards Buffy's bare blood-covered legs with a fresh cloth that she had just rung out to which Buffy nodded her consent. "I've never seen so many marks or bruises b-before. I'm s-sorry he hurt you so much."

Tara's touch was gentle as she wiped the warm cloth across Buffy's legs. Buffy paused her own movements and watched in silence as she processed Tara's words, a slight frown forming.

"He didn't." Buffy whispered after a few moments resuming her cleaning, starting with her other arm. She refused to meet Tara's eyes, not quite ready to explain and instead took particular care at getting all the dried blood from her hands and in between her fingers.

"B-but-"

"It hurt, but I wasn't really in pain." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Something happened last night and I can't quite remember everything. It's like as soon as I think I've formed a clear memory it just slips away into darkness again." Her brows creased together as she struggled to force the memories forward.

"T-that's very strange."

"Bloody frustrating more like." Buffy grumbled, leaning down to add her hands to the basin that Tara had just dipped her own cloth into to clean, not noticing the raised eyebrow that was sent her way. "I woke up this morning to an absolutely massacred room and both of us covered in blood and THEN he goes and uses that word to describe the evening." Buffy let out a terrified laugh and a huge breath, shoulders dropping in defeat.

"What word? I-Is that why you ran into the library so early?"

"Yes and no. It's kind of hard to explain." They both rinsed out their cloths and resumed cleaning, both going over the limbs they had just washed to make sure everything was gone. "The scrolls and parchments Giles has were given to him by my father and they're about my family. More specifically, they're about my bloodline, being of the chosen kind and all. There are, however, texts within them that are about certain prophecies-"

"A-as in more than one?"

"When have the 'Powers That Be' ever decided that one god-damn prophecy was enough? Jerks." Buffy growled, looking up to the roof and flipping it off in disdain, earning her another raised eyebrow. "That parchment in particular-"

"The one you held earlier that had the drawing of the woman d-dying on the ground?"

"Yes. That prophecy mentions a woman connecting with her primal instincts. A primal ancestral line who had golden sparkling eyes."

"G-Giles showed it to me last night, b-but I can't really read Latin that well yet so I don't know what it said. He was worried though t-that by Spike claiming you it might start the prophecy, b-but we didn't know there was more than one."

"There's more than one alright, but the main one-" Buffy stood up after dropping her cloth into the basin of water. "The big ol' grandaddy of all the prophecies is the one Angelus wanted me for." Buffy pulled the shirt she had stolen from Spike that morning from her body, any form of modesty she had was completely gone. Tara had after all been on the roadside helping her while Willow had changed over her bandages.

Willow.

"The b-breeding?"

"Speaking of babies," Buffy turned around. "I forgot to ask how Willow is? I could hear a little bit going on yesterday and gathered that her baby was delivered safely."

"Oh yes! She had a little boy." Tara smiled.

"That's good."

Buffy felt Tara's hesitation when she had first walked behind her, only imagining how much of a scratched up mess her back must look even with the permanent scars across her skin. She flexed her muscles and could feel the lines where Spike's hands had clawed down her back and was grateful for Tara's help in removing all the dried blood that must have been there still.

They were both silent as they worked, bending each to rinse and clean their cloths before gliding the warmth across her skin again. When Tara wiped the cloth up over Buffy's shoulder-blades, barely grazing the fresh bite mark that sat nestled there, she couldn't help the low growl that escaped her.

"I'm sorry!" Buffy slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, her cloth falling to the floor with a wet slap.

"OH!"

"I am so sorry! I don't know why I did that." Buffy turned to face Tara, hand still covering her mouth.

"I-It's ok and you really did say g-gold sparkling eyes. Wow!"

"Shit!" Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her hands to her sides.

"I-It's ok."

"No it's not! I don't know what they mean or why I have them. Stupid bloody prophecies." Her eyes welled with tears as she stared at the ceiling.

"T-they're gone now." Tara's voice was soft and reassuring to which Buffy took a deep and calming breath in response.

"I need to do research-" Buffy let out a laugh and glanced at the roof again. "If my father could see me now. Asking to do research-"

"We'll figure everything out. Giles has lots of books in his library and I-I'm sure they can help with your p-prophecies."

"I hope so."

"S-Spike will probably be with him still so-"

"I'd really rather not see him right now."

"I figured as much, b-but it's not a very big castle and you will have to talk to him eventually. I don't know how this claim thing works, b-but you are going to have to talk about it."

"I know that. I just don't want to talk to him right now." Buffy replied determinedly.

"Ok." Tara nodded, not pushing the matter, something to which Buffy was grateful for. "B-breakfast will be ready soon. I'll find you something to wear. All my clothes will be too big for you," Tara eyed Buffy's smaller frame with a frown. "B-but it is winter now s-so big and warm will suffice."

"Thank you." Buffy accepted the long dress that Tara had pulled from her cupboard with a smile. "It's perfect." It wasn't like the scrap of gold cloth that she had first worn that had barely seemed to cover half of her body. Instead, Tara's burgundy coloured dress fell to the floor covering her legs, she was shorter than Tara and the sleeves came down past her wrists to half cover her hands. It was a modest cut across her bust, she wasn't as busty as Tara was and so the dress hung loose, but still dipped to sit just under her collarbone, her back completely encased in its warm material. It was indeed winter now and Buffy took a few moments to stare out of Tara's windows to see that it was snowing outside.

I hate winter.

"It's the l-least I could do." Tara moved about the room cleaning up the basin of water and cloths they had used to remove the dried blood from Buffy's skin while Buffy stared out of the window lost in her thoughts.

"Your room has a very warm feeling to it." Buffy wrapped her arms around herself before moving to sit on the chaise lounge in the room. "I feel very protected and," she breathed deep. "safe here."

"T-thank you." Tara smiled, glancing quickly to the small table next to her bed that held an array of candles and small rocks. "H-how about I bring breakfast here then?"

"I would be very grateful if you did." Buffy smiled, rubbing her hands up her arm's beginning to feel the chill in the air. "God I hate winter. It's so cold and miserable."

"It's not so bad." Tara laughed, walking to stand in front of her window, her eyes lighting up with an almost childlike glee. "When the snow first falls, such tiny little flakes that are so cold to the touch that always seems to create a blanket of white over the ground. The way it crunches under your feet when you walk." She bit her lower lip between her teeth as she watched the snow fall. "There's a certain beauty to it, to know that for a while everything is almost frozen in time and then as that ice slowly melts you just know that something special is about to happen."

"I'm all for the change of season here, but it's bloody cold."

Tara smiled and broke her gaze from the snowfall to turn and see Buffy rubbing her arms. She moved to the fireplace and muttered her incantation, flames bursting from the wood almost instantly. Buffy's eyes lit up as she moved closer to the fireplace.

"There's some warmth to be found in the cold." Tara gathered the ruined cloths in her arms along with the basin of water and walked towards the door before meeting her eyes. "You need only look for it."

Buffy was left sitting in silence to ponder over Tara's words as she inched closer and closer to the flames, hands outstretched as she closed her eyes, knowing deep down that Tara hadn't just been talking about the weather.

Giles was left in a mass of confusion and his desk in disarray after the whirlwind that had occurred in his library in the early hours of the morning. He stood in silence for a long while after having shouted at Spike to leave. Spike who had looked like he had just survived a massacre and barely walked away alive, covered in dried blood and bruises. A sight in which that had quite literally shaken him, even more-so when he had first laid eyes on Buffy to see that she too looked the same.

Scratched, bloodied and bruised and both sporting matching bite marks on their necks. The deed had been done. But at what cost?

"This is what you have just condemned me to."

He still held the fallen parchment in his hands as he stared down at the mess that was once again his desk. The scrolls and parchments that he had ever so carefully spent grueling hours putting in to separate piles were again tossed haphazardly across his desk and onto the floor.

"Go and clean yourself up and then we'll talk."

"I don-"

"I can't look at you while you're covered in the girl's blood!"

Giles fell back into his chair, tossing the parchment onto the desk in front of him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing the images of Buffy and Spike from that morning out of his mind, but it didn't work. Nothing could stop the sight of two bloodied forms from coming to the surface. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes again, blankly feeling for the handle to the drawer on his left. His fingers grasped what he was searching for and he let out a defeated sigh as he pulled the bottle to his mouth, pulling out the corkscrew before taking a large sip. He was tired, confused, weary and above all else, Giles couldn't stop the feelings of guilt that rushed to the surface.

The image of the woman bleeding laying face down on the ground from a stomach wound stared up at him from the desk and again he whispered.

"What have we done?"

The claiming bite was the only bite that was capable of breaking the hold Drusilla had over Buffy and it needed to be done, it had been done. But at what cost? Buffy seemed to think that she was now condemned to the future that lay drawn out in front of him and he had no answers. There was no response that he could give that would calm her doubts or ease his guilt. They had done this to her. They were no better than Angelus.

"I'm sorry dear friend." Giles took another swig of amber liquid from his bottle, sparing a glance at the roof in a silent apology to Hank.

Pulling the glasses onto his face, he set on the painstaking task of once again arranging the scrolls and parchments into their respective piles. Those written in Latin and directly relating to the main text, the prophecy itself outlining 'The Becoming.' This text was easily found and almost slipped from the pile, wishing to be found first. The parchment which Spike had first asked him to translate. The drawing on its front was of a woman with her arms thrown out wide to the sides. Lines were drawn vertically though her, to which he had assumed was light or power rushing into her body. The Becoming. Turning the parchment over there was another image, a portrait of Buffy's face, including the scar that trailed from her left cheek down to the bottom of her lips.

The Chosen One.

The Slayer.

The scrawled words that had been written around both images in a blurred rush were hard to read and Giles had to squint to make out the cursive script of his friends rushed writings. His eyebrows raised slightly as he read the words "more than one" and thought back to the conversation he'd had with Spike upon first translating the text. There had always been more than one of the chosen bloodline.

So what made Buffy so special?

The second pile consisted of texts about vampire lineage and the two fighting covens and the third pile he set aside to sort consisted of all Hanks notes, parchments which were easy to spot out against the others because his friend's peculiar writing scrawl.

Giles was broken from his musings by Spike's voice.

"Anything?"

"No actually, I've got nothing." He waited for a smart sharp remark back from Spike and was surprised by the silence he was met with.

Spike had cleaned himself up, fully clothed and covered from head to toe, including a jacket that nearly fell to the floor. It was snowing this morning, something which Giles often found quite cathartic to watch from his window-seat in the library, but this morning it had offered little solace. Still the coat was an unnecessary accessory for Spike as he didn't feel the cold, but Giles found it comforting that his friend had heeded his words and cleaned himself up, going over and above to make sure that none of his skin was visible.

"Right, I'll just-" Spike pointed to the spare chair that Tara had occupied earlier and sat down.

Giles dismissed Spike's odd and hesitant behavior and put it down to nothing other than the fact that he had yelled at him earlier. He shuffled around the papers in front of him and set aside the two parchments with the images, sighing and finally meeting Spikes gaze.

"I gather from your matching set of bite marks that you claimed the girl." He gave a silent nod of recognition to the bite that was visible on Spike's neck.

"Yes." Spike sat back in the chair, fidgeting slightly under Giles intense stare.

"Drusilla's claim over her will be broken then."

"Yes."

"I expect that she's not going to be pleased over the matter and we should expect action will be taken against us. That is of course, assuming Drusilla has indeed figured out that we're keeping the girl here."

"She's coming." Spike confirmed. "I can feel it through the sire bond." His fists tightened together. "It's weak, but there."

"Then there's the matter of this." Giles tapped the parchment in front of him.

"I don' bloody know what it means!" Spike growled out, frustrated.

"That makes two of us, but Buffy seems to think this is the fate we've now condemned her too."

"That I condemned her too." Spike sighed defeat in his voice, his demon whining inside at the thought of causing his mate harm.

"The claiming bite was a choice that we all needed to agree on and whatever path it has now put us on doesn't matter. It can't be reversed. What's done is done." Giles sat the parchment next to the one describing The Becoming. "What we need to do now is work out what we're going next."

"Something happened last nigh'-"

"I'll say." Giles muttered, glancing at Spike's bite mark before taking another sip of amber liquid.

"Not like tha' you berk. Ok, yes tha', but something else happened." Spike held his hand out for Giles to pass him the bottle. "Buffy was there one minute and then, somehow not herself."

"Can you explain?"

"It was primal. She was primal." He took a sip and closed his eyes as the liquid hit his taste buds. "I've no' ever experienced anything like it mate. It was a battle for dominance and my demon wasn' having a bar of it. She gave as good as she got though and those eyes, god-" another sip. "Those eyes undid me. Gold, sparkling flecks of sunlight. When I tried to explain it to her this morning she freaked out and bolted down here, searching for this." Spike tapped the parchment in front of him.

"A prophecy about a dying woman?"

"Doesn't make a lick of sense to me either." Spike continued to slowly sip the amber liquid while Giles stared at the parchment, reading the words in Latin that were scripted there.

"It talks about a woman with remarkable gifts that is capable of tapping into her inner strengths. Her primal ancestry so to speak." Giles read from the script for a few more minutes and perked up in his chair. "It uh, talks about a woman with golden eyes, one of the chosen who will fight in a great battle..." he trailed off and seemed to slip down in his chair again as dread covered his face.

"And?"

"And dies."

"Well that's a load of bullocks." Spike slammed down the bottle refusing to believe Giles words. "All these bloody prophecies. Screw the fates! I won't be ruled by a bloody piece of parchment telling me that my mate is going to die all because she tapped into her primal essence."

"Yes well, we don't know what will happen, but right now young Elizabeth believes that this is her destined fate."

Spike growled and pushed at the piles of papers on Giles desk with a glare, earning a tsk of disapproval from Giles. Giles rolled his eyes and set about straightening the piles again. His hands seemed to hover and linger on a page full of Hanks writings, one which he had read days ago and thought nothing of at the time.

"Isn't she golden,

Shining in the light

Drops are scattered by the harvest of gold

Passing through like morning sun

A waiting to be cast along

Sowing the grain

Fields of the same

Plant to grow

The deed is done."

The deed was indeed done and instead of a rushed scrawl in writing, Hanks words were specifically placed, neat and purposeful. Giles snatched the two parchments with drawings and turned one over to see his friends rushed words on the back "more than one."

"Multiple prophecies." He trailed off.

"What?"

"More than one. He wasn't talking about more than one chosen one, he was talking about more than one prophecy!"

"Who?"

"Hank, Elizabeth, er- Buffy's father. This is his writing! He wrote that there's more than one and I do believe he means multiple prophecies. What if and this is widely throwing it out there, but what if the multiple prophecies are different choices she makes?"

"She didn't have a choice to be chosen and she bloody well didn't have much of a choice to be claimed either. I don' think that's it."

"Y-yes well, what if perhaps then, that the multiple prophecies are becoming one large one?" Giles sat up rather excitedly and set aside the papers and scrolls on the vampire covens and his friends written works which just left the texts on prophecies on his desk.

"I'm listening." Spike sat up, intrigued.

"The becoming," Giles placed the prophecy on the desk. "then discovering her connection to primal ancestry-" He placed the second prophecy on the desk.

"Then death." Spike growled.

"No, not death." Giles grinned and met Spike's eyes. "We know Angelus had her for years for a reason. He was waiting for this to happen." Giles tapped the parchment on The Becoming. "He wanted to breed her all for a prophecy that he has possession of."

"So you're saying that all of these prophecies come together to make one mother of a prophecy?" Spike stared dauntingly at the stacks of papers and parchments in front of him.

"Exactly." Giles grinned. "This is not her end." He tapped the image of the woman laying bleeding from her stomach wounds. "It's merely another chapter."

It took Tara a few minutes to open her door while trying to balance a tray full of food in her arms. Having not been sure what Buffy would like for breakfast she had gathered together an array of cold meats, cheeses and breads as well as a few pieces of fruit.

"That looks like quite a feast you have there." Buffy smiled, not able to contain the grumble her stomach let out as soon as her eyes had landed on the tray of food nor stop the saliva that pooled in her mouth at the thought of her taste buds consuming the sweet treats.

"I-I wasn't sure what you would feel like, s-so I got a bit of everything." Tara placed the tray in her lap.

She was still curled up on the chaise lounge next to the fireplace, soaking up it's warmth as the snow still fell outside.

"Thank you." Buffy picked at the bread, trying her best not to gorge on the food in front of Tara and gave up her restraint moments later to pile a few pieces of ham onto a slice of bread. "I seriously can't eat all this by myself. Please help." The look she sent Tara was a smiling plea.

There was a giggled in response as Tara smiled and took up a position next to Buffy on the lounge, reaching forward to select a piece of fruit. They ate in a comfortable silence, both content to fill their bellies and lap up the warmth that the fire was providing. Buffy made another sandwich and ate a few mouthfuls before sampling some of the cheese and then picking up an apple. The crisp crunch of her fruit was the only sound in the room besides the odd crackling as the wood in the fireplace slowly burned.

"T-The snow should stop soon."

Buffy made a humming noise in response and cast a glance to the window, watching as the white tufts fell to the ground below. Tara was quiet, glancing from the snow fall, the fireplace and landing finally on her.

"Yeah."

Buffy wasn't sure how long she sat staring at her, her brows knitting together as she seemed to be trying to analyzing her. From the corners of her eyes she saw Tara frown, forcing her to stop mid mouthful as she stammered out a question.

"W-would you mind if I tried reading your aura? It might help o-open you up to r-remember more from last n-night too." Tara's stutter grew as Buffy met her with a very confused look, not sure what she was asking.

"My aura?" Swallowing her mouthful of half chewed food and coughing slightly as a few pieces were too big.

"Y-your aura is the energy you give off. You're always surrounded in it and the o-only way I can simplify this to explain it to you is to say that it's your spiritual signature." She smiled at Buffy's confusion, leaning over to take the tray from her lap, placing it on the floor before explaining further. "Each person's aura l-looks different and has different colours. Those colours m-mean different things."

"And this is going to help me remember last night?"

"It could, yes." Tara shrugged her shoulders, not knowing for certain if what she was asking to do would bring Buffy's memories from the night before to the forefront of her mind again. "Or it could not."

"I don't see the harm." Buffy nodded in agreement, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Sure why not."

Not like I have much to lose. The memories are already gone anyway.

"Great!"

"So what do I need to do exactly?"

Tara had turned herself sideways on the lounge so that she was facing Buffy, bringing her legs up onto the couch to curl beneath her. She motioned for Buffy to do the same, both getting comfortable before speaking again.

"The f-first thing I want you to do is to close your eyes." Tara waited until Buffy closed her eyes. "Keep your breathing steady. In through your nose and out through your mouth. That's good." She smiled, watching Buffy breathe while talking calmly. Her voice was monotone, no emotion changing the sounds of her words as she directed Buffy with instructions on what to do next. "Now I want you to picture yourself standing underneath a large tree with its branches stretching high above you and over you like a canopy. You're standing at the base of the tree near the roots."

"I see it." Buffy whispered, eyes fluttering behind closed lids.

"I want you to plant your feet firm in the grass beneath you. T-this may sound strange, but picture your feet extending down towards the earth, further and further into the ground until you reach the center. You're connected to the earth, born from it, warm and safe. Slowly, with your feet still planted firm you can feel yourself being lifted high in the air, almost as if a breeze has carried you up. You're encased in a clear bubble of light, not a square or cube, this a sphere. Nothing can penetrate your bubble of light, not darkness or any evil spirits that seek to hinder you. This bubble takes you high above the clouds and beyond. You're protected here, grounded to the earth, but high above it at the same time. Now, slowly I want you to open your eyes."

At first all Buffy saw was white. Ever so slowly colours began to prickle at the edges of her eyes and then the room slowly came back into focus. First, it was the curtains near the window, then the stone-work of the walls, the fireplace and then Tara's form slowly shifted into focus. It took a few seconds of blinking rapidly before she felt her eyesight return to normal, colours appearing as they should. She felt different with light tingles shooting through her limbs and fingers as she moved her hands testing her movement. Slowly she looked up and locked eyes with Tara, who wore a kind smile.

"What was that? What did you do?" Her questions came out dazed and slightly confused. Tara rushed to explain.

"I grounded you. I-It helps with the readings if you're protected and by grounding you to the earth and placing a bubble of light around you I can look without fear of anything hindering my view. I-if that makes sense at all." Tara stuttered, blushing under Buffy's bewildered gaze.

"Kinda." Buffy laughed and closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders and feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks. There was a different kind of energy around her, a calm that she had not felt since she was a little girl living with her parents and had no care or worries. "I actually feel really good. It's like all my fears have just rolled away. I can't describe it." She rolled her shoulders a few more times, eyes closing as she savored the feeling.

"The white light you're encased in is from your guides. It's their energy you're feeling. They're always around you." Tara closed her own eyes and breathed deep, smiling before meeting Buffy's curious gaze again. "You just have to know when and how to ask for their assistance."

"I'll remember that."

"L-let's get started."

Buffy sat in silence and watched Tara's face as she stared at her. It should have felt awkward, having someone staring right at you with a mask of concentration and yet she didn't feel put off at all. If anything, Tara's calming presence had her relaxing into the chaise lounge even further, with her shoulders slumped forward and hands resting neatly in her lap. She jumped slightly when Tara reached forward to place a palm on either side of her head, not touching her, but hovering just a few inches on either side.

"What do you see?" Buffy asked, not moving her head, but turning her gaze to the hands that hovered on either side of her.

"It's conflicting." Tara murmured with furrowed brows, gaze focused as her eyes glanced over Buffy's still form.

"That doesn't sound good."

"N-not in a bad way!" Tara assured, pulling her hands back. "You have muted tones of pinks and blues. You have strong yellows and orange hews shining through you and there's a little red too." She smiled, eyes hinting to something that Buffy couldn't see nor understand.

"Right." Buffy dragged out, raising an eyebrow. "What do all those colours mean exactly?"

"W-well pinks and purples are normally colours you would associate with the head-"

"Like my brain?"

"N-not quite." Tara chuckled, shaking her head. She paused for a few moments and tried to think of the right wording to best explain it to Buffy. "I see that there's peace to be had. You're a quick thinker, b-but sometimes you overanalyse and that can be your weakness at times. When you set your mind to something you're firm. You know exactly what you want to do, but you have trouble producing the right words to express yourself." Tara motioned to her throat. "The muted tones in colour m-mean that you're struggling in certain areas."

"I do kind of put my foot in my mouth most of the time." Buffy grimaced, knowing more than once that having said the wrong thing to the wrong person had earned her a few lashes and she had the scars to prove it.

"Muted colours aren't necessarily bad to have, they're just a-areas you can work on."

"Easier said than done."

"A-agreed." Tara stammered, pointing to her own throat in silent acknowledgement of her stutter.

"So what do the yellow, orange and red mean?" Buffy leaned forward with intrigue and curiosity lighting up her smile.

"Confidence and creativity, traits which I think shine through you quite strongly."

"My father always did say I had a knack for creating things." Buffy beamed and blushed.

"Oh really?" Tara's eyes lit up, motioning for her to continue.

"We had these really big stables for our horses that acted partly as my training area, my safe haven and escape most of the time. I would sneak in there to play with our horses when I wasn't training and hide under the hay stacks and wait for them to find me. My horsy hide and seek. The second part to the stables was our workshop, my father's and mine. He would help be built new grips with leather for my swords and fashion new ways to hold my practice saddle on the barrel we had created. I was still young and learning to ride, but we spent many hours in there. My mother would get so mad some times, finding us in their late at night just laughing and playing." Buffy smiled sadly, trailing off as she struggled to hold onto the memories of her fathers loving face and his warm laughter.

"Oh that's beautiful." Tara whispered, eyes staring straight above Buffy's head.

"What?" Buffy turned to look up and saw nothing but the stone ceiling.

"The green I see." At Buffy's questioning look, Tara continued. "Unconditional love."

"I miss him." Buffy's eyes welled with tears, smiling sadly.

She turned her head to look into the fire not wanting Tara to see her cry. She had shed too many tears over the last few days. The feeling of warm hands slipping over her own that sat in her lap was felt moments later, followed by a gentle squeeze of comfort.

"I know." Tara didn't need to question Buffy or say anything at all, she just watched the myriad of colours swarming about Buffy's form that had tears welling in her own eyes.

"Would you like to come o-outside with me? There's something I want to show you that might cheer you up." She squeezed Buffy's hands in reassurance again and rose from her seat.

"Outside?" Buffy glanced towards the window. It had stopped snowing, but still looked like it was going to be freezing out.

"We'll be out of the cold. I p-promise."

She nodded and stood, helping Tara with the tray that sat discarded on the floor that had the remains of their breakfast on it. They left the fire going and she followed closely behind Tara as they descended the stairs and made their way through the castle halls. Buffy was still trying to navigate her way around the vast halls and wings that the castle had and had yet to see the whole thing in the daylight.

Maybe I can get Tara to give me a tour?

Buffy stopped abruptly, almost slamming into Tara's back and narrowly missing knocking the tray of food out of her arms.

"I'll be back in a moment."

She ducked through a doorway and returned a few moments later with her arms free, having left the tray in what Buffy could only assume was the kitchen. She vaguely remembered being down these halls when she'd had her dinner with Spike, but without the same lighting it was difficult to tell. The first time she'd walked these halls it had been nighttime and the walls were lit with candles that hung from their fixtures offering a soft glow.

"I think you're going to like this." Tara smiled and hooked her elbow through Buffy's, guiding her through the castle.

They walked down another hall before taking a few turns that led to a door. The first thing Buffy felt when the door was opened was the stiff winter breeze that blew through.

God I hate winter!

Buffy automatically wound her arms around herself upon reflex and allowed herself to be led outside. The snow crunched beneath their feet, the ice crystals cracking under the pressure. Tara sighed happily as they walked, enjoying the sounds and basking in the joy that the winter season offered her. Buffy silently shook her head, not understanding Tara at all.

Try living outside in the winter with no food or covering and see if you love it then.

Her face was a cold mask by the time they made it to their destination and she could feel her fingers and the tip of her nose starting to burn against the wind and cold. The building in front of them looked to be partly attached to the main castle itself, but not linked by any walkways or passages that she could see. The doors to the building were wooden and large with two great big circular steel knockers for handles.

Tara didn't knock. Instead, she reached forward and pulled on one handle and as soon as the smell assaulted Buffy's nose she knew where Tara had brought her.

"The stables?"

"I thought you m-might like to be around something familiar. In essence, I suppose."

Tara dropped her linked arm from Buffy's and walked farther into the stable, motioning for her to follow. The stable was huge and held at least four horses that Buffy could see at first glance. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, tears forming in her eyes.

There was no other sense in the world that could bring forth such powerful memories as smell and the images that flooded Buffy's mind had her nearly in tears. Baled bundles of hay sat stacked in one corner off to the side, while in a room to her right the rich smell of leather wafted her way. She knew instantly the sound it would make if touched, the crackling that old leather gave while riding, bending under pressure, was one she was quite fond of.

There was a loud snort to her left and Buffy stepped forward trying to peer around the walls. There was no mistaking or replacing that smell, one of dust and sweat that radiated around them in a musk. The smell of horses. With a tentative hand she reached forward to the black horse that was craning it's neck to sniff her, curious, but inching back when Buffy got too close.

"That's Faith."

"Pretty name." Buffy smiled, dropping her hand as Tara came over to stand next to her, both leaning on the wooden posts of Faiths pen.

"She's a special mare." Tara moved her lips in a smacking motion, sounding out a few clicks. The pen Faith was in was L-shaped and the back part completely hidden from view. After a few moments, there was a shuffling of hay on the ground and then the sound of tiny hooves.

"Hey there little guy." Buffy crooned at the small foal that rounded the corner.

"This is Percy."

"Hello Percy." Buffy ducked down to bend to Percy's height. He stuck his head easily through the large wooden slats to give Buffy a nudge.

"Short for Perseverance because without his mother's persistence and strength he wouldn't have made it. Would you little guy?" Tara smiled, scratching behind his ear.

"She's a late bloomer then?"

"Very late in the season for it, yes." Tara smiled and stood back up, watching with keen eyes as Buffy pet the month-old foal.

"Pulchra es. Ecce pedes eorum fortia. Vos erant 'iens dare vobis currunt pro ea pecunia matris unius diei."

Buffy spoke in Latin, a habit that she had picked up from a young age while her father attempted to teach her Latin. Given that she spent so much time in the stables he had figured that it should become her learning space and what better way to practice Latin than by speaking it to her horses on a daily basis.

She didn't know how long she sat on the ground petting little Percy, but after a while the foal seemed content to lie down in front of her, his little brown head peaking through the gap in the wooden slats and leaning on the fence that sat a foot from the ground. She traced the markings on his forehead, the little white blemishes making his coat unique and beautiful in her eyes.

"Sicut nubeculae."

Sitting on the floor in the castles stables, Buffy felt such peacefulness and lost all manner of time and noise. She was locked in her own private bubble of serenity. She didn't see or hear Tara leave, but was startled from her calm and peaceful state by a voice she hadn't expected to hear.


Pulchra es= You're beautiful
Ecce pedes eorum fortia= Look at those strong legs
Vos erant 'iens dare vobis currunt pro ea pecunia matris unius diei= You're going to give your mother a run for her money one day.
sicut nubeculae= Like little clouds

"He's beautiful isn' he?"

"He is." Buffy refused to meet her intruder's gaze, his presence shooting tingles through her body as he stepped farther into the stables, murmuring her response.

"Thought we were going loose him. It was a bit touch and go for a while there, but old Faithful came through in the end."

His voice held a tenderness to it that she had never heard before that gave her pause.

As if the mare knew that she was being talked about she walked forward to the edges of her pen, head stretching out and reaching for Spike's waiting palm. He laid his hand flat on her forehead as she let out a whine, closing her eyes and pushing back against him.

"Do all your horses have symbolic names?" Buffy asked as she stood, leaving Percy to sleep resting against the fence.

"No." Spike smirked, walking past Buffy and down a few pens. "Hercules over here is the most timid animal you'll ever meet."

"Kind of a misnomer then." Buffy smiled, walking towards the pen Spike stood in front of to see a very large grey horse standing at its center. "A name to strike fear as soon as you see him?"

By his size and girth she surmised that Hercules was a draft horse, his name completely fitting to his size, but not in temperament at all. His main purpose would have most likely been to help pull along carriages and carts.

"Never met a horse more scared of his own bloody shadow." Spike let out a smiling scoff.

He was hesitant in his movements, a trait which Buffy found very uncharacteristic that had her on edge. His stance was stiff and awkward as he turned to face her.

He's nervous!


Buffy refused to meet Spike's eyes, her heart was hammering away in her chest too afraid to speak first. She tried mentally preparing herself, waiting for him to open his mouth and break the uncomfortable silence that they had fallen into. She was not at all sure she was ready to listen to a word of what he had to say, still angry at the consequences of their actions. He had signed her death warrant and that was something she didn't know if she could ever forgive him for.

They had both been backed into a very dangerous corner with no other options left and now because of their actions she was going to die a slow and painful death.

Death by stab wound.

"I-"

"What are you doing here?" Her hands shook as she tucked a few stray hairs behind her ears and finally met his eyes, not able to read what she saw there.

"I know you need time-"

"I do! I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that my lifespan suddenly just got a little bit shorter-" Her anger flooded out, un-contained.

"I know that-"

"Do you?" Buffy growled, startling Hercules who jumped slightly in his pen. She lowered her voice. "I never asked for this." She glared accusingly, knowing partly that neither had he. "Now I'm stuck here in this freezing castle awaiting my impending painful death to occur. Death by stab wound might I remind you and yes, I know we didn't have much of a choice with other ways to break your crazy ex's hold over me, but I'm still not ok with the decision and the consequences of our actions."

"Did you suddenly forget that we're bound together forever?" Spike growled at the mention of Drusilla, not being able to stop the automatic response to his sires name. His eyes laid purchase on the fresh bite mark on her neck and his demon instantly calmed, humming at the thought of reminding her that she was his forever.

"N-no." Buffy's hand slipped up to cover the mark as she stammered under his stare. Her fingers tingled as soon as she touched the bite, a sensation and feeling coming over her whole body that had her nearly crumbling under its intensity.

What the hell was that?

"Do you really think that I'd let anything happen to you?" Spike's voice lightened as his face softened, taking the few steps forward that had separated them.

"No." Buffy whispered again, hearing and feeling the sincerity and conviction in his words.

"I might not know you very well pet, but I've seen your strength. I've seen your will and determination and I refuse to let some half shredded piece of parchment determine my fate let alone yours." His demon was restless within, so close to her now, but unable to touch her. "Whatever the future holds, you can bet your bloody beautiful arse that I'll be fighting by your side."

"I'm scared."

She'd said it.

She had finally admitted what she was really feeling and it terrified her.

Tears welled in Buffy's eyes and fell from her cheeks as she finally voiced what she had been trying to and failed at bottling up all morning. She had been in such a panic earlier, waking up to find a destroyed room and a bloodied mess of her mate and herself. Then, after having laid eyes on the parchment that predicted her impending death, her panic had turned to rage. Rage then turned to hatred and blame and then to fear. Fear that she then tried to force down, bottling it away with all other emotions to put on the brave face while she spent time with Tara.

All the while an undercurrent of fear running turbulent within her.

"I know, pet." Spike took that last step forward and brushed the tears from her cheeks. "I could feel it all morning."

She too had felt him throughout the morning, not knowing exactly what he was thinking, but flashes of emotions would catch her unawares. It had taken a while; sitting alone in Tara's room, to force him out and block the feelings she was getting through their bond. She didn't want to know how he was feeling, her own anger and fear too fresh on the surface to care for anything else. Spike however, had not closed the link to her and from the look on his face had felt it all.

Ever so slowly he stepped forward and pulled her into his embrace, arms closing around her waist to rest in the small of her back. It was a shy and hesitant hug, both unsure of what the other would do in response. Slowly, Buffy allowed herself to relax, letting her head fall against his chest as his arms moved up her back to embrace her in a tight hug. For the moment protecting her in his tight grip.

"I'm not ready to die, yet."

"I won't let you." Spike placed a kiss on her head, squeezing tight before whispering in her ear. "Whatever fate you're destined to suffer, you can rest assured tha' I'll be by your side to endure it along with you."

His words created a fresh set of tears. They were barely friends, a newly mated pair and yet Buffy knew he spoke the truth. She opened the connection she had slammed shut and felt with her whole being that he was being sincere. She tried to push aside her anger and resignation towards him and the situation they had gotten themselves into and to just be in the moment. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, the scent of the stables assaulting her senses as his strong grip encased her. For a fleeting moment it felt like she was a little girl again, back in her own stables within the arms of her father as he hugged away her fears and doubts.

Offering her strength and courage when she had none for herself.

The moment was quick to pass as the smell of tobacco on Spikes clothes hit her as well as the human warmth his body did not offer.

"What are you even doing here? Why-how did you even get here? It's daylight outside." She pulled out of Spike's arms, the moment gone. With rough hands she wiped the rest of the tears from her cheeks.

"You don' think I don' know how to get around my own castle without stepping out into the sunlight?" Spike raised an eyebrow in question, his demeanor changing, face hardening again as the air in the room shifted. Buffy once again closing herself off from their connection.

"Of course." Buffy rolled her eyes, shaking her head and folding her arms across her chest.

"I came because Giles and I may have found something."

"Oh." She couldn't read the look on Spike's face, but it had her curious.

"It's more of a theory really, but we both thought you might like to look through it with us?" He motioned towards the doors and held out an arm in a sweeping motion that she follow him.

"I must be a mess-" She tried flattening her hair back and wiping the wet from her cheeks, stopping and blushing under Spikes whispered admission.

"You look beautiful."

"Hardly." It was a nervous laugh if any, shuffling her feet and refusing to meet his gaze.

"Red nosed, pink flushing cheeks. You're a picture of health to me."

"Splotchy crying eyes and messy hair? I'm a real catch." Her breath caught in her throat as she finally looked up to see the way he was staring at her.

Adoration.

"You're perfect."

Buffy couldn't stop the butterflies that fluttered about in her stomach. No one had ever looked at her like the way he was before, eyes taking in her every form. He'd seen the scars that littered her back, had seen the terrible destruction on her hip and even now as she nibbled on her lips in nervousness, the pale scar that went across her face to her lips, he was still entranced.

How could a demon look at her with so much emotion when all she knew from firsthand experience was how capable they were of delivering only pain?

"There's some warmth to be found in the cold. You need only look for it."

She was broken from her thoughts when he spoke again, a lightness to his voice that he seldom let shine though.

"Come on, he's waiting and the old man gets cranky when I make him wait."

"You shouldn't be so mean."

"Mean she says! Ha!"

She followed him through the stables to a side door which lead to an underground tunnel. She knew that their fleeting moments of joking and banter would soon end, but for the briefest of moments she tried with all her might to see him other than the creature he was and to see him as just a man.

Just a man, who had been led into an arrangement with a woman that he barely knew. Into a situation that would change both of their lives. For better or for worse.

Giles wore a mask of concentration as he stood hunched over his desk, eyes poring over the books that were scattered on its top and not bothering to look up to as they entered. Her fathers scrolls and parchments were placed to the side in neat piles leaving no doubt in her mind that he had spent a long time sorting them back into their respective piles after she had so carelessly tossed them about in the early hours of the morning. She winced, feeling guilty at having made him endure the tedious task once again.

"Oh good, you're both here! It's quite remarkable really!" Giles traced a line from the thick volume in front of him before motioning them both over.

"What is?"

"Did you find something?"

Buffy came to a halt opposite Giles, finally able to see the complete mess that was his desk in its entirety. Books upon books were laid open and stacked on top of each other with scrolls spilling down the sides of his desk half unraveled while endless papers were scattered about underneath. Three parchments sat to the side with the rest of her fathers belongings perfectly placed apart in distance.

She knew these texts, the image of the first depicting 'The Becoming' staring back at her as her fingers reach forward to ghost over the drawing at its center. The drawing was simplistic and not detailed, but managed still to describe the event in such a way that words could not. With arms outstretched and energy rushing through the center of the picture she was taken back to the moment the event had happened to her. Her mother had once described her own becoming, explaining the blanket of comfort that seemed to embrace her afterwards and how protected she had felt.

She was finally part of something bigger. Connected to a whole bloodline of those that had been Chosen before her.

But Buffy had never felt any such connection after her own Becoming. She had been Chosen, but there was no blanket of warmth to embrace her afterwards nor was their protection. There was no comfort that would have come from her people had they been surrounding her. She was the last one left in a bloodline that had been erased from existence.

Still, she knew what it felt like to be wholly consumed and overwhelmed by such power that even now tensing and clenching her muscles she could feel the strength that was within.

The second text and image that her eyes stared down at had her stomach dipping in trepidation. The parchment had been carefully placed next to the first and for a few moments her eyes lingered on the image that depicted her death. She wondered if it would hurt, being stabbed in the stomach. Would she bleed to death? Would the instrument or weapon that killed her damage a main organ or hit an artery? Would her death be instantaneous? By the shadows under the drawing that seemed to represent a pool of blood she surmised that it would be a slow and painful death. Her fingers again ghosted over the image, the words 'Primal' in Latin etched on its page.

The infamous text connecting her to a primal ancestral line that had lain deep and dormant within only to be woken during her mating with Spike.

The third text had little written on it and no drawings at all. In fact, all that was written on its page were a number of question marks with a few quick scrawls beneath it, hand-writings she didn't recognize.

She had not seen this page before.

"Nothing since you left, but Buffy, we may have a theory about these texts." Giles gathered the three parchments up and turned them around to face her. "We think that there's more than one. See here your father's writings," he pointed to the scribbles around the images. "I think he means more than one prophecy."

"You would be correct in that assumption," Buffy said sadly while nodding, having already known for some time that there was more than one prophecy that could affect her life.

"Oh." The deflate in Giles was immediate and Spike's shoulders too seemed to sag in defeat.

"I've known for a long time there was more than one. How many in total I couldn't say." She shrugged and stared down at the images that faced her. "We never knew how many could affect me-"

"Did your father ever think that these prophecies could be linked together?"

"What do you mean?" Her brows furrowed.

"That instead of their being multiple prophecies these could all actually make up one big one instead." Spike rushed to explain at seeing the look of confusion on her face.

"We believe that these," Giles pointed to the images on the desk. "are all connected. That they come together to make one larger prophecy and not just multiple individual ones."

"It's possible, but" her frown deepened, unable to remove the image of the second parchment from her mind. "this depicts my death."

"And this prophecised your becoming." Giles turned over the first text to the image of a woman's face, her face. Still, his words did little to comfort her, the images before her burning into her retinas.

"I refuse to believe that this is your end." Spike covered the second image with his hand, taking a step closer to her.

"I know." She whispered, hearing the hope in both of their voices and wishing that she could feel it too.

"It's a theory at most, but one we must hope to be correct." Giles pulled the glasses from his face, cleaning them with the corners of his shirt, a habit that Buffy had started to recognize as a nervous tick. "I first believed that the prophecies may have come into fulfillment because of the choices you had made. That we'd all made." He placed the glasses back on his face and offered her a sad smile. "But, we didn't have much of a choice in separating your connection to Drusilla nor did you on the day you got your power."

"No I didn't." She sighed sadly in agreement.

"The first text has been fulfilled and the second only partly so. You've already shown signs of this primal side within, but are yet to unlock it in its entirety."

"And how do I do that? U-unlock it I mean?" Buffy stumbled over her words. "If I even want to unlock it at all." She shivered, remembering the growl that had escaped her when Tara had gotten too close to her bite mark earlier that morning.

"I don't know." Giles sighed in honesty, reaching for his glasses again. His habit extending to unanswerable questions.

"I only caught glimpses last nigh' during-"

"It happened again this morning!" Buffy rushed out, voice slightly raised in panic as she cut off Spike. She didn't want or need him to explain to Giles the intimacies that they had shared and what had caused her golden eyes and primal self to come forward. "I can't control it. T-this morning when Tara was helping me clean off all of the blood she got too close to these and I may have kinda growled and gone all golden-eyed-girl on her." Her hands gestured to her neck as her cheeks flushed red.

She didn't miss the look that crossed Spike's face when she mentioned cleaning off all of the blood from her body or miss the narrowing of his eyes when she had said that Tara had gotten close to his bite mark.

A mark that was his and his alone to touch.

On instinct he stepped closer, eyes seeming to darken as he leaned forward to sniff her. She was frozen stiff at his movements, eyes wide and heart racing. His hands reached out to touch her and the noise that came from her was not one she wished to hear again. A low growl that came from deep in her gut, her lips twitching up to bare her teeth. He would not lay a finger on her until she allowed it, her growl acting as a warning. Spike grumbled back a response, almost in a challenge that she would dare to stop him from being close to her.

"I can't control it." Buffy whispered, hastily taking a few steps back before the situation could escalate further.

"It's a part of you whether you like it or not, dear." Giles placed the glasses on his face yet again, for the moment not addressing the domineering display he had just witnessed.

"It's in my blood." Buffy numbly whispered back, hearing her mother's voice echo in her mind.

"I do believe that once you learn to harness the power within; opening that link so to speak that this prophecy will be fulfilled and the next will then roll into play."

"And then next one and the next," she growled in frustration. "When does it end? When do they become one giant prophecy? How long do the blasted 'Powers That Be' get to decide my fate?"

"That I don't have the answers to I'm afraid."

Buffy was silent and on the verge or tears, fingers running shakily through her hair as she brushed it off her face. Her life and destiny had never been in her hands to begin with. She was delivered into the world by parents who had tried their hardest to change her fate. What would her life have been like if she had only been born a son like they had hoped. Would her parents both still be alive? Were they both even really dead? She had never been given the chance to interrogate Riley, Spike having such a short temper and killing him first before she could question him. Would she have been raised on her childhood property surrounded by the love of two doting parents?

"Blood." Spike had been silent, watching their faces intently as they talked until Buffy had mentioned her blood. "It's always about blood."

"What?" She scrunched up her face, mistaking his words for hunger and not the revelation they had intended to be.

"The second text explains a link to your primal ancestry righ'?"

"Y-yes." Her eyes wandered to the prophecy on the desk.

"So where does that line start? Your power has to come from somewhere."

"Of course!" Giles grabbed her father's stack of parchments and divided them up between them. "Why didn't I think of that before? The answers we're looking for are within these texts, the truth about how to unlock your primal side within." The light in his eyes seemed to dim for a moment as he whispered. "They have to be."

"You know I can' read half of these." Spike growled, staring at the stack of parchments, the majority of the texts being written in Latin a fact that Giles knew all too well.

"That's why you have the texts in english." Giles raised one eyebrow, his teasing voice causing Buffy muffle her laughter. "The dividing of the major covens may hold little answers to our questions, but we have to look everywhere." He pulled a book from under the pile on his desk and lumped it into Spike's waiting hands. "Happy reading."

Spike growled low, eyes flashing before he took up the seat at the end of the desk. The papers Giles had given to Buffy were the texts written in Latin, something she was partly glad for as the pile Giles held; her father's writings, she had read many times before. She paused before stepping away from the desk, her hands hovering over a book that lay opened under the endless stacks, something drawing her to it. She didn't know what caused her to pick that particular book or explain why, but as soon as her fingers touched the worn leather of the spine she knew it had been calling to her. She gripped her small pile to her chest and made her way to the seats near the library's windows.

It was snowing again, the sky full of grey clouds that offered the window seats an even amount of shadowed light, just enough for her to read without struggling. Wearing Tara's gown that was too large for her she pulled the skirts up and tucked them over her legs like a blanket, cocooning herself in its warmth as she set about reading the texts in her hands.

Giles took up residence at his desk, eyes fixed on his dear friends scrawled writings.

Hours seemed to pass with little success on finding out the answers they needed, each too lost in their own texts to glance at the other. The room was silent, every now and again the whooshing of pages turning could be heard along with the muttering Spike was doing under his breath. Buffy closed her eyes and opened their link, curiosity getting the better of her and not wanting to ask what it was that he found so displeasing to read. She knew a little of the vampire covens and the war that had separated them; Drusilla being the main villain in that tale, but the lineage and description of their heritage she knew nothing about. Spike though, seemed quite annoyed at the book's depiction of his kind.

The emotions she got through their link were a mixture of anger, loathing, disdain with flashes of hatred coming through before an overwhelming inadequacy hit her. She glanced up from her book to look his way, the pain she felt through their bond was visible all over his face. Loneliness and self loathing smacked her in the gut hard before slipping in to hope as his eyes met hers causing her heart to stop. Her cheeks flushed red and she whipped her head back down towards her book, not wanting to know what it was exactly he had read to cause such an array of emotions to flood towards her.

She had long ago put the texts written in Latin down and picked up the book she had taken from Giles' collection that thumping feeling within drawing her to it's pages. It turned out to be a journal written by a man called Elian. He wrote his name above each entry. The dates on its entries were hard to make out, being were so faded that she had to squint to see their outline. The entry that she was currently reading was from nearly two hundred years ago. Although the dates on each entry were worn the main writings for the most part had been extremely well-preserved.

Elian

I fear that our time is almost at an end. Our people are all but gone with only a few dozen left. My family has been taken from me, my wife and children murdered before my eyes by a beast that hunts us in the night.

The creature is strong. It must be kept in darkness until we are ready.

It has taken us five days to track the creature to it's nest where it took nine of our people to finally capture it. With arrows and spears we have finally bent the beast to its knees, bound it with rope and have brought it back to what remains of our village. There are those with powers that want the same thing, peace among our kind. We wish to no longer be food, but masters of those that wish to see us gone from this world.

Many we have lost, but determined are we to harness the creature's strength. Our people will finally be able to protect themselves during all hours of the night. We will rebuild.

We must.

The men with the power, the Shadow Men as we have come to call them ensure us that the strength of the beasts essence will continue down our line. They call it a demon, a creature so foul that even hell spat it back out to walk this earth in darkness.

We must sacrifice one for the greater good of the many.

Buffy's heart raced as she turned the pages, eyes continuing to read as her mind almost wished to not find the answers to the questions she sought. What had they done to the creature? It was a vampire she was sure, but what sort of spell could they have cast to save their people? What kind of horror had they done to imbue them all with such strength?

Strength that was in her blood.

What was she?

Elian

It is time.

Three days have passed since my last entry and the creatures capture. We needed to ensure it's weakened state before the ceremony begins and I fear we have no more time to wait. Elowyn has passed on during the night from a fever leaving only Sineya to ensure our people's continued existence.

She is so young, a girl of only fourteen that I would never have wished this task upon, but she is our last hope.

The Shadow Men have taken her to the caves where the beast is kept. I do not wish to watch the ceremony, but the Shadow Men need the last of our people around Sineya to draw energy from.

They tied her to posts on the groun-

Buffy's hands shook as she squinted to make out the next sentence, heart hammering away in her chest, her breath coming in short. It was illegible and she had to move down a few sentences before the faded pages became clear again.

I can still hear her screams.

The beast is too weak to fight back. Once the Shadow Men started chanting a light covered the demon and Sineya and began merging their essences together. The demon howled and fought against it's bonds, but after a few long moments it simply dissipated into dust. I've never seen anything like it before.

Sineya lie still of the floor for a long while after the creature died.

Golden eyes shone bright against the darkness of the cave when Sineya finally woke with what is left of our people surrounding her. She made growling noises and fought back against us. She is not the same as before and I fear that we have done the wrong thing. Elowyn had chosen this fate, she was prepared to sacrifice everything for the greater good of us all.

It was not supposed to be Sineya.

I ran from the cave like a coward tonight, refusing to watch as my people tied Sineya to the posts the beast had once been chained on. The Shadow Men call her the Slayer, one alone in each generation that will fight against the darkness that wishes to destroy us all.

Imbuing the heart, soul and spirit of the demon in a girl so young was a terrible mistake.

What have we done?"

The book fell from Buffy's fingers and clattered to the floor with a bang, eyes wide is sheer terror and shock at what she had just read.

She was in essence, part demon.

Aurelius

Spike's eyes narrowed as he glared at the perfectly calligraphed names that were written in the book he held. The Order Of Aurelius. The name itself brought with it an onslaught of memories he had hoped to remain buried in the past, but they refused to be contained. Beneath the scripted writings of his covens origins name was the leader. Old bat-face himself. The Master.

He'd never actually met the guy himself, but knew from the stories he had been told by his sire and her compatriots that he was a right wanker of a vamp. The coven had split long before his introduction to their world, something about Bat-face not liking his favourites pets new flame.

"Not that I don' blame the guy. Angelus.... is a dick. " Spike mused, eyes scanning the open pages.

Still, he remained one of the most ruthless vampires to date and was not one to be trifled with. Whether or not the old codger was still in existence was unknown to Spike, but as long as he kept his ugly face out of his own un-dead existence, he didn't much care. The master was the beginning of the sire line; well that's what the booked depicted, a fact he was unsure about and raised an eyebrow in question at the dates written down. He was as old as dirt itself, a demon so ancient that whatever human features he had once possessed had long since left him, leaving his demon to completely take over.

Bat-face permanently on display.

Spike shuddered at the sketched image below The Masters name, scrunching up his own features. He hoped that he would be fortunate enough to never become so grotesque in appearance. It wasn't that he was vain by any means... who was he kidding! He was totally vain, running a hand through his hair on impulse before returning to his reading.

The book labeled The Master as 'king of the vampires' and it wasn't far-off the mark from the stories he had been told. The Master had pretty much ruled over them all, starting The Order of Aurelius. For a vamp he was quite selective of those who he chose to feed off of and those who he chose to turn.

Spike rolled his eyes at one particular name that stood out among the long list of minions that he recognized.

Darla

Bat-face's favorite.

The perfect calligraphed script had the words Dear One written next to her name which caused him scoff in protest.

"God, she was a bitch. Dear one my arse." He grumbled under his breath, flicking through the pages at a faster rate while trying to push back the unpleasant memories her name brought with it.

Darla was The Masters most beloved and loyal of servants who was sent out at his request to sire more vampires for their order. Spike knew what had come afterwards as a result of her actions, leaving a long legacy of infamous vampires; cunning and tenacious in her wake. But, there was one among the select chosen few that the bitch had sired who turned out to be the absolute worst.

Angelus

"Bloody git." Spike grumbled, glaring at the sketched image of the two vampires who had tormented his own existence for years. "You really missed the mark with that one grandma."

The next few pages of his book detailed the years Darla spent doing The Masters bidding, only breaking out from under his control and permanently dividing their coven after he had not taken too well to her choosing Angelus over him. She spent years frolicking around with the great poof himself before finding a young woman, so innocent and childlike who possessed the gift of sight.

Drusilla

Darla had practically offered her up to Angelus on a platter. He had ruined her. Used her innocence to his advantage and tormented her like a plague. He used her gift of sight against her, causing her to slowly lost her grip on reality, unable to completely comprehend what was happening around her. Angelus butchered her entire family in front of her and made her watch as he ripped them all apart. He made her scream and beg until there was nothing left. Her sanity was gone, leaving her in a constant state unawareness.

His dark princess; permanently broken by Angelus's sick games.

Spike traced the lines of his sires sketched image as a spoken admission from Angelus's entered his mind.

"She was my opposite in every way. The dutiful daughter. Devout Christian. Innocent and unspoiled. I took one look at her and I knew. She'd be my masterpiece."

Spike felt nothing but sadness, wondering for a time what she would have been like if she had never been tortured and tormented. What kind of vampire would she have made? But she had been and she was. So instead, he chose to see her insanity as a childlike state, someone who needed constant care and devotion.

How he had loved her.

"Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength, his vision, his glory. Your wealth lies here... and here. In the spirit and... imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

Spike's eyes narrowed as he turned the page angrily, rage building up inside.

And yet, she had still left him.

"Bloody bitch."

The four of them had been happy for years, Angelus content with Darla and he completely besotted with his sire. Nothing could stand in their way, they were the fanged four. A scourge on the earth, killing and feeding whomever and wherever they liked. All it had taken was one argument. ONE bleeding fight between the great pillock and that blonde bitch before everything had fallen apart. Darla had run back to The Master, leaving Angelus for good and then all of a sudden he set his eyes on his girl.

A deep rage and anger overtook him as he glared at the book in his lap, the lines of script detailing the vampires lineage and division of their coven causing an array of emotions to break free. He had loathed Angelus with a fiery passion after Darla had departed their group and Angelus had turned his attentions towards Drusilla. She was supposed to be his; his girl and his alone. But no, Drusilla had wanted to play with 'her daddy' and had gone and bloody kicked him out.

He had felt inadequate for a long while after, wondering what it was he had done wrong. Had he not pleased her enough that she sought the comfort of another? Did he not do all of what she asked? Had he not bent over backwards to give her everything? Had she simply lost interest in him?

He had been dismissed from his own home without a second glance and then as soon as she was gone, she was back in his arms. Whispering promises to him as they fucked and killed, telling him secrets in the night that Angelus didn't want him to know. Stroking his ego to new heights only to crush him further. And then she was gone again, leaving only a maniacal giggle in her wake as she sauntered back to her sire.

He had been played for a fool and had loathed himself for falling for her tricks.

He had shut himself in a castle as far removed from the pair of them as he could, remaining isolated with only a select few within his company that he had come to grow quite fond of. Friends, and dare he say it, family. He had tried not to love Drusilla, but knew it was a hopeless task. A part of him always would.

After all Drusilla was his sire, his creator.

There was however, another within his castle walls that had recently come to change everything. He had thought Drusilla lost to him forever and the news that she still lived had given him hope that they may one day return to one another. That dream had been torn away once again after finding out that she had mated with the pillock.

A union that was unbreakable, even in death.

He would make Angelus suffer.

And yet, amidst his anger and hatred something else stirred within him, shining like a beacon within the walls of his home that brought with her a new kind of hope.

They had an unlikely friendship to be sure, but there were moments when something sparked between them that lit him alight with sensations that he had never experienced before. Suddenly there was hope. Was she what he'd been searching for all along? Could she be someone to stand by his side as a partner? It was an arrangement forced upon them both; neither wanting, but having no other choice in the matter to become a mated pair. Could they one day finally find comfort in each others arms and be equals?

Spike glanced up from his chair to stare at the object of his thoughts, his eyes catching hers. His demon purred from within at the look that crossed her face and the flush that came rushing to her cheeks. Seeing her blush, he decided, was one of his new favorite images.

He focused on her heartbeat and had to hold back a smirk at hearing it fluttering beneath her chest before she quickly glanced away to resume her reading. He returned his gaze back to his book, a scowl instantly crossing his features as the Aurelius lines depiction continued, finding it not nearly as interesting as the pink hue on his mates cheeks.

He read for a while longer, attuned to Buffy's heartbeat as it hammered away in her chest. It slowed for a while as she resumed her reading, becoming more absorbed in the book in her hands. He placed his own book in his lap and stared at the pages blankly as he listened to her heart racing minutes later. He tried opening the connection they shared, but she was strong willed and did not want him peaking inside her thoughts and feelings.

He heard a shuddering gasp escape her and was up and out of his chair and halfway across the room before her book fell to the floor with a loud bang.

............................................................


Giles reclined further into his chair, one hand resting on the desk, the other propping up the papers in his hands. His eyes squinted together trying to make out the scrawled writings, the lines seeming to blur together after a while. The snowstorm was picking up outside offering so little light into his library that he had to light all the candles at his disposal just to continue reading.

The pages he had first read held a number of names he didn't recognize and dates so old that they traced back hundreds of years. It seemed that his dear friend had also been trying to trace his wife's lineage to find the source of her powers. His efforts had been extremely thorough as the stacks of detailed writings he had found among his belongings was extensive. Hank had traced the chosen bloodline back to the very beginning. To the very first woman to be Chosen and as he read, came to the haunting discovery that she had been created.

His breath stopped in his throat, eyes wide at what was unfolding in front of him. It was a very dark form of magic that had created this being and anything that tampered with the darker side of magic was sure to have dire consequences. His eyes read on with rapt attention.

The Slayer.

A human girl aged fourteen was taken against her will and turned into something unnatural. She was created. Not born!

She possesses superhuman strength, speed, reflexes and great agility. All traits that my dearest Joyce possesses and Elizabeth may well come into when she is of age. It is alarming though, to discover that the young girl, Sineya is her name, along with her new found abilities also has the demons predatory instincts and superior healing which could prove to be a detriment to her.

How much damage can one body suffer before it can no longer heal itself?

Sineya was the first; created and not born of the chosen blood. The first in her line and the strongest of all her kind. Her power was insurmountable. Her connection to The Shadowmen; the men who created her, strong and unwavering.

The journals I have found are horrifying to read. The things that poor child went through is unimaginable. Perpetually torn between sanity and madness as she was repeatedly raped and used for breeding. She bore many children to what was left of her people before finally being released to fight the demons who tried to kill them. Forced by her people into a sacred duty she had not asked for.

Sineya was said to never be the same again.

Too much of the demon was within her that her humanity was lost forever. It was not realized until years later after Sineya perished that only one in each generation would possess the strength of The Slayer. Each time their connection to The Shadowmen weakening.

I hope that this fate never befalls my Joyce and Elizabeth! To be of the Chosen bloodline is dangerous enough, with hardly any of them left in this world, but to live in constant fear of either one someday becoming The Slayer terrifies me.

The demon that took my wife will pay for his evils and I will relish the day that I exact reve-

Giles was startled from his readings by a loud crashing sound near the window. He glanced up to see Buffy looking white as a sheet, mouth agape in shock as her fingers trembled where her book had once been, eyes staring blankly ahead and unblinking.

Spike was at her side in an instant, already up and moving from his chair before the crash was heard. Feeling the distress within her that he could not.

"Are you quite alright dear?" Giles stood and made his way to where they both sat.

Spike had picked the book up from the floor and placed in on the seat before taking Buffy's shaking hands in his own. Her chest was rising and falling in rapid succession, a sign of shock with her clammy skin that he noticed as he got closer. Her eyes remained unblinking as Spike whispered reassuring words to her.

"I... I'm-" Tears formed in her eyes as she stumbled over her words.

"Shh, it's alright, luv." Spike edged closer, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Can you tell me what you discovered to cause such a reaction?" Giles was calm as he sat on the other side of her, both men protective and reassuring.

"I-it's a journal." Buffy had yet to look at either of them, her eyes casting a glance to her shaking hands where Spike had started to rub soothing circles on her wrists.

"A journal. One from my desk?" Giles cast a glance at his desk and the stacks of books that lay there.

"Yes. Something called to me," she stared at the closed book. "it wanted me to know." Tears slipped from her eyes. "I wish I didn't know."

"I do believe that we've just discovered the same thing." Giles offered her a small smile, knowing how much of a shock it was. "Sineya?"

Buffy nodded and burst into tears, a sight that had Spike pulling her into his lap on impulse.

"Who the bloody hell is Sineya?" His arms wrapped around her small frame, her head nestled into his neck as she cried.

"You've claimed the girl as your mate. That's not something to be taken lightly."

"I don't."

"There is going to be a time when you will need to choose-"

"She's my mate-"

"I know that, but what exactly does that mean?"

"That means I'll protect her with my life, Ripper. You have my word on it."

"I have no doubts on your words, but Angelus and Drusilla are on their way. How do you suppose you're going to prove yourself to Buffy? You've flat out told the girl that you want Drusilla back-"

"When we made the decision to break Dru's hold over her, when we mated ... It was for life. Or did you forget that part? It wasn' an easy decision to make and one that we didn't have much of a bloody choice in. What we did changes everything, goes against everything ... I will always love Drusilla, she's my sire-"

"And if it comes down to the choice between protecting Buffy or killing Drusilla? I need to know that you'll do the right thing!"

"I'll protect my mate at all costs, Ripper. But don' you dare ask me to kill my sire. That is something I can't promise."

"Drusilla will not hesitate to kill her! And what if Angelus takes her again? What then?"

"I'll do what is necessary to protect her and that is a promise."

"... You may as well fetch the girl so we can inform her of our discovery. I made a promise to her father that I would protect that young woman and you'd do your best to make her life here as pleasant as possible. As numbered as the days may look right now-"

"I don' like making promises, you know that, but this time it's different. The connection we share is changing me, I can feel her through our bond. She's scared, Rupes... All I can promise is tha' I'll try to be the mate she needs and not just the one she got lumped with. I'll try ... Is that enough?"

"For now."

"Righ', well, I've gotta see about a girl."



.........................




"Who the bloody hell is Sineya?"

Buffy was crying into Spike's shoulder, sitting across his lap while his arms held tight and firm around her. He hadn't meant for his voice to be so harsh and ran his hands down her back in a calming manner.

"Sineya was the first of the chosen bloodline. However, the circumstances that led her down the path of becoming the first were most unfortunate. She was made to endure some extremely terrible things for the creation of the bloodline." At Spike's confused look Giles elaborated which only caused a fresh onslaught of tears to burst from Buffy's eyes. "She was not born into the bloodline, but rather cursed into it with a spell. One infused with very dark magics I might add."

"Always consequences with magic." Spike growled, still rubbing soothing circles on Buffy's back as she cried. His ministrations seemed to be helping as her sobs had decreased, now weeping silently into his shoulder. Her breath was hot on his neck where she nuzzled into him, her face only centimeters away from the bite mark she had delivered. The sensations of which caused his body to react and had him to shifting in his seat.

"I've not yet read this volume, so I don't know for sure what was done to the poor girl-" Giles picked up the book Spike had collected from the floor and turned it over in his hands, inspecting the leather bindings. "What exactly did-"

"Demon..."

Flinching back, Spike pulled away from Buffy as she whispered the word into his ear. She turned in his lap to look at Giles and the book he clutched in his hands.

"W-what?"

Buffy had never heard Spike stumble over a word before and she turned to look at him, frozen in place before glancing to Giles who seemed to be a little less shocked, he having already discovered a little of what Sineya had been put through.

"T-they merged her with a demon ... a vampire." Giles eyes widened slightly before the arms that were around her waist dropped to Spike's sides in further shock at her announcement. The hands she was resting on the front of his shirt scrunched together as she hiccuped her next words, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I-I'm part demon."

"Oh, my dear girl." Giles voice softened with his features as he opened the books pages, eyes scanning the writings. "Sineya was the first in the line and yes she possessed the most strength and strongest connection to the demon they merged her with." He reached forward to lay a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "But, you are not her."

"I have demon in me!"

Spike made a noise of discomfort when she turned to face Giles again, cheeks flushing red as she realized how she was sitting. Every so slowly she disentangled herself off of his lap and sat back down on the bench in between them, refusing to meet his eyes or acknowledge the hardness she had felt against her backside. Spike was still frozen in place, eyes slightly unfocused as he processed the new information they had discovered, lost in thought.

"Your bloodline originated from a demon, yes, but that state of being has weakened over time. Those traits are all but gone." Giles flipped through the pages of the book, squinting to make out a few of the words before speaking again. "I will need to read this in its entirety if we wish to know more, but I do not believe you to be a demon."

"You're human, luv." Spike took a deep and unnecessary breath, eyes closed as he whispered his words, breaking his bout of silence.

"But-"

"It's what's in here tha' matters, yeah." His cool hand came to stop just above her heart. "Just because your strength comes from a demon from a few hundred years ago doesn' make you one." He spread his fingers wide over her heart. "Although it does explain why my demon is so bloody enthralled by you. You're one in a million, luv." Spike glanced at her face and back towards his hand. "You're special."

"There's that word again." Buffy mumbled teary-eyed.

"We all have our crosses to bear, pet." He offered her a smile, pulling his hand back.

"It's in your blood. A bloodline that we will discover all there is to know, but for now I do believe that it would be best for all if we retire for the evening." Giles closed the leather bound book and stood. "It has been a very tiring day and we could all use the rest." He clutched the book under one arm.

Buffy nodded in agreement, fingers playing idly with the material of her oversized dress skirts as Spike stood. Both he and Giles seemed to reach towards her at the same time, both offering her a hand. She stared at their open palms before taking a deep breath and slipping her fingers into theirs, allowing them to lift her up from her seat.

Both giving her their strength and support in a silent gesture.

"We shall continue tomorrow. Hopefully the light of day will assist in our research." Giles remarked, scanning the library and all it's lit candles before glancing out into the night from the library's large windows.

Humming an unintelligible response, Buffy's brows furrowed as she followed his line of sight, having not realized how dark it had become outside. For a moment she wondered how late it was before stifling back a yawn and covering her mouth with her hand, surmising that it was very late.

"C'mon luv, off to bed." Spike place a hand in the small of her back and nudged her forward, leading her from the room.

She followed along silently, eyes seeming to drop with exhaustion with each step she took. He led her through the castle halls easily in the dim light and it wasn't long before she was ushered inside his room. There was hesitation in her steps when she realized where he had been leading her, stopping just outside his door in trepidation of what wreckage lie inside. But upon looking around the room she was relieved to see that it didn't look at all the way she had left it that morning.

The room was no longer in shambles, Spike or one of his servants had put everything back in their correct positions. His sheets had been replaced by new ones and were no longer hanging from the bed in shreds. The melted candle-wax had been cleaned from all surfaces and new candles put into each holder. A fresh fire had been lit in the fireplace, casting the room in a lovely glow and the thick curtains hanging near the window were drawn closed keeping the chill from outside from coming in through the glass. Something for which she was thankful for.

Her body jumped on impulse when his voice broke the silence, jarring her from her inspections and causing a rush of goosebumps to rise across her skin.

"I would understand if you wanted to sleep in separate rooms..." he trailed off, standing awkwardly in the center of the room as she drifted towards the fireplace in seek of its warmth.

He was just as nervous as she was.

"I should hate you." Flames from the fire sparkled under her eyes as she spoke, turning slowly to look at him. "This," she pointed between them. "goes against everything. It's not natural-"

"We're not natural beings, luv." Her head turned towards the flames again and for a moment Spike thought he may have ruined the moment.

"But I don't."

He stood frozen in place, unable to move or make a sound at her whispered admission. Hope flooding him followed by fear that she might change her mind.

"I don't understand everything I read today, but one thing I can't help but feel is...you."

"Me?" He hesitantly took a few steps towards her to join her by the fire, the heat bringing a healthy flush to her cheeks.

"This bond with you ... with your demon." She played with her hands nervously, struggling to find her words. "I can't explain it. I just ... I feel calmer when you're near. I can feel you through this connection we have and I can't even to begin to understand it nor can I control it. You're in here all the time and I think ... I know I say things that aren't my words. Tara, I mean-" she finally met his gaze. "I said things today on reflex, words that I wouldn't normally use and I think it's you ... in here." She tapped her chest and raised an eyebrow. "If that makes any sense at all." She finished with a nervous laugh.

"I feel you too, luv." Spike nodded, taking another step closer, careful not to invade her personal space.

"I can't deny that there is some part of me..." She squeezed her eyes shut as the memories of the night before flooded to the surface. "A primal part of me knows that you'll keep me safe. I'm yours, just as you are mine."

"I was yours before I even knew it, luv. That part of you tha' makes you so special," he reached out to take a hand in his. "had my demon enamored with you the moment we met. Neither of us asked for this," he squeezed her hand in reassurance. "but it's the choice we both made. I know I'm not what you wanted and-"

"I'm not her." Buffy cut him off, eyes tearing as thoughts of Drusilla entered her mind. Spike went silent, nodding in agreement before reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're not..." He smiled, fingers threading through her golden strands. "And I would never ask you to be anything other than simply you."

"How are we supposed to go forward? I have demon in me-"

"You have strength in you." He was firm, his voice holding the same tenderness to it that he had showed her earlier in the stable. "We start there. We unlock the primal side of you and let your true strength out. We train... and then we fight. Drusilla is on her way with Angelus accompanying her I have no doubt. I can feel them getting closer with each day and we need to be prepared."

"I'm not ready."

"None of us ever are, but we will be. Do you trust me to protect you?" Spike had slipped his hands into both of hers, pulling her to step closer to him.

"I can feel that you want to. I'm feeling things that contradict what I've been brought up to believe my whole life and it's-"

"Not all demons are bad, pet." He spoke, meeting her eyes as he cut her off.

"So I've been told over the last few days, but knowing and believing are two separate things." She shuffled her weight. "I need time."

"I've all the time in the world." He squeezed her hands.

"Be patient with me." For the second time that day she looked at him in a new light. Trying to see him as just a man who was just as confused as she was. Both in a situation that neither had asked to be in, but one that they were in together.

"I can't promise I won' slip up and upset you or do something to disappoint you. All I can promise you is to try. Try to be what you need."

"That's enough for now. The rest we'll figure out as it comes..."

"Friends then?"

Buffy allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace, his arms warm from the fire as they encircled her waist. Her head fit perfectly into the curve of his chest, his chin resting on top of her head. She closed her eyes in exhaustion, the emotional turmoil from the day finally taking its toll as she nodded her response.

"Friends."

Sleep had come easily.

The moment her head had made contact with the soft pillows on the bed her eyes had drifted shut, slipping effortlessly into a dreamless slumber. Spike had been kind enough to give her another one of his shirts to wear to bed, her nightclothes having been ripped to shreds the previous night and neither one of them having the time to replace it. He had slipped into a shirt of his own, one that was slightly too big for him that came to stop mid-thigh. It was an odd sight to behold, seeing Spike standing in the middle of his room wearing a shirt two sizes too big and looking rather uncomfortable.

"Don' normally wear anything to bed."

"Ah..."

He'd put in the effort to dress for her.

Her cheeks flushed a shade of crimson when he walked about the room, the cream shirt doing little to conceal his body as the fire made it nearly see-through. She was glad she had already slipped beneath the covers and listened with one ear as he spoke, making promises that new night-things would be purchased for her as well as gowns that fit properly. Not that she had minded wearing Tara's over-sized dress all day as the ruffled skirts had supplied her with ample warmth. She didn't hear Spike stop talking or feel the bed dip when he slid in next to her. Too exhausted from the day to keep her eyes open any longer.

Spike held back a chuckle at the tiny snores his mate was making in her sleep, the sound echoing against the brick of the walls as she slumbered. His body was warm thanks to the fire in the room and just like Buffy had, as soon as his head touched the pillows of his bed he was drifting off to sleep.

She didn't know how long she had been asleep for or who had instigated the movement, but there was now a body curled flush against hers. She was half stuck in between dreaming and being awake, not yet sure which one was real. Her mind was thick and heavy with sleep. A head nuzzled its way into her neck causing a slew of goosebumps to rise in their wake as an arm encircled her waist. There was little to no light in the room indicating that she had been asleep for hours, the fire having all but burnt out leaving only the embers left to warm the room. The fire seemed unnecessary now as the body behind her was creating its own kind of friction, her skin flushing with warmth as it snuggled itself into her.

The fingers on her stomach splayed out, pulling her closer as hips thrust against hers from behind. On impulse she pushed back, the pressure she felt there pulsing to life as a low growl reverberated in her ear sending a rush of heat to her center. The hand on her stomach slipped down past her belly button, her breath hitching in anticipation as fingers explored her body. Hot breaths were coming in short unnecessary gasps against her neck right above her claim mark which had her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She was helpless to do anything to stop him, his touch only furthering her need. She hadn't thought it possible to crave anothers physical affections or the touch of a body against hers with such desperation.

We shouldn't

She knew it was wrong. Knew that she should push his hands away and roll to the other side of the bed, but she couldn't stop her body's reaction to his ministrations. His fingers finally met her center and she gasped his name into the darkness. Her hips began to slowly move with the rhythm he had developed, his body pushing up against hers from behind as he thrust his hardness against her. The pressure in her stomach was building as he pleasured her, leaving small but firm nips against his claim mark on her throat. One of her hands grabbed a fistful of bedding as the other pinched her nipple, her need heightening. She was close and he knew it. With a few strokes of his hand and a commanding groan into her neck she came undone.

She let out a shuddering breath, eyes snapping open. She was now wide awake and able to see in the darkness better than she had before. She knew that by instigating this dance her primal side was coming to the forefront. Unlike the first time however, she was now in control. Her body still craved and wanted his with a desperation and hunger she couldn't control, but there was also hesitation.

Something was changing between them.

She knew her eyes shone golden, a stark contrast against the pitch black of the room. She knew because the second she rolled over to look at him his demon burst to the surface. They stared at each other for moments, both locked in a daze. The air suddenly felt thick with anticipation and want coupled with something she couldn't quite explain. That feeling struck her right to the core and had her sliding a leg over his hips and he, his hands all over her body in seconds. There had been a pressure building between them all day, a disconnection and separation that neither her primal self or his demon had liked very much.

They were a mated pair, but their link was weak.

It needed strengthening.

Renewing.

They didn't need to talk, actions speaking louder than any words they could have said to the other. A hand wound its way to the back of her neck, pulling her face to his as lips and fangs met in a bruising kiss.

Want

It was the only thought running through her head as she allowed herself to be pulled on top of him, sitting astride. Their new position had her nightshirt sliding up her thighs, moans escaping them both as she ground herself onto his erection, his own shirt doing very little in the way of covering him. His eyes darkened as me moved his hands up her thighs and hips slowly before the sound of material tearing echoed in the room as he tore the offending garment over her head and tossed it aside.

Her breath caught in her throat as his human visage slipped to the front as he sat up and begun prepping her naked chest with feather-light kisses. Her eyes closed at the sudden tenderness he was now showering her with and opened the connection they shared. It was weak, but it didn't stop her from feeling the inner battle he was raging with himself. He wanted them to slow down and didn't know if he could stop.

They had agreed to be friends.

Friends...

Friends didn't kiss each other the way he was right now, his lips sure and demanding against hers, doing nothing to quell the fire that was building inside of them both. Friends didn't explore each other's bodies with hands, pinching and gripping in their desperation for the others touch. Friends didn't sit astride each other, bodies rocking together desiring to be one.

Her breath stopped in her throat as his erection made contact with her slick and ready opening, his movements halting as his hands came to rest on her hips.

Friends didn't have sex.

Or did they?

"We need this."

She was fighting a losing battle before the words had even left his mouth. They were doomed. Her primal need for him took over completely, forcing all sensibilities and reservations aside. Biting her lip, she nodded in agreement, her hands reaching forward to tear open his shirt and mewling when his naked chest met hers.

Skin to skin.

Finally

His lips met hers in another desperate kiss, the sensations and emotions he was flooding her with through their link nearly bringing her to tears. She allowed him to roll them both until he was on top, no time for foreplay before he pushed her thighs apart and buried himself inside her welcoming heat with one swift movement.

"Oh..."

The gasp that escaped her had him slowing his movement, hips pushing forward until he was fully sheathed inside of her. He lowered his forehead to hers and let their hips rock together. Last night had been about claiming each other and breaking the hold Drusilla had over her, but this was something else entirely. She felt connected to him in a way that she had never been before. Feeling him stretching her, filling her, she felt whole. He was hers, just as she was his.

His hands were on either side of her head, holding himself above her. Ever so slowly, she wound her fingers around his wrists and let them glide up his forearms in a silent gesture to continue. She nibbled on her lip, a sight that had him leaning down to capture the swollen lip with his. Their bodies rocked together, hips never parting ways for long. It was a slow dance, neither needing nor wanting a hard and fast mating like the first time. This time was different. It was about strengthening their connection, renewing and giving themselves to each other. Golden eyes met his cerulean blue and he sat back, pulling her with him. Her legs slipped to either side of his waist as they moved to the center of his bed, rocking together slowly.

Her lips met with his in a tender kiss as his arms wound their way around her back, bringing the sheet with them when her body flushed with goosebumps from the cold night air. A single tear slipped from her cheek that she didn't know she had shed until he kissed it away before he began prepping her neck with kisses. She nipped against his own throat, groans escaping him when she found an erogenous zone just above the claim mark she had given him. Their movements became frantic as they rocked together, the hands on her bottom helping their rhythm. On impulse they struck at the same time, both biting the claim marks they had given the other, bodies grinding together as blood poured into their mouths. The hands on her hips held her firm in place as he spilled his seed into her, her body pulsing against his in pleasure as she came undone.

Light flashed before her eyes and she had to hold her breath at the onslaught of images that rushed her. Images from the night before as well as the dreams she had been plagued with.

Memories.... Not dreams.

The connection she had with Spike had indeed strengthened and with its renewal, the block on her memories gone. She remembered everything.

"W-what was that?"

"That," Spike collapsed on his back, pulling her with him, feeling just as dazed as she sounded. "was the claim fully opening. Think we've both spent the day trying very hard to keep the other out."

"Yeah..."

"Don' think my demon took too kindly to it."

"Or mine..."

They both lay tangled together for a while, bodies panting and slick with sweat from their lovemaking. Buffy let out a shiver when Spike ran his hands down her back, partly from the cool air and partly from his touch. From his lying position he could see their nightshirts thrown on the floor. His was completely ripped and hers, frayed at the hems from his impatient inability to remove it from her body quick enough.

"We're going to have to get you a whole wardrobe of night-things, luv."

Colour flushed to Buffy's cheeks as she lent over him to see the damage they had caused to their clothes. Resting her chin on his chest, she turned to look at him.

"Seems we have a habit of breaking things."

"We could always just sleep naked?" Spike offered, lips raised in a suggestive smirk as his fingers played with the loose strands of her hair.

"Just friends is never going to work is it?" Buffy asked after a moment of silence.

"We'll never be able to be just friends, luv. Not after everything we've already shared. My demon wants you too much. You're my mate."

"I feel this constant pull towards you when I let my guard down..." Buffy blushed. "Like when I'm sleeping."

"Why fight it then?"

"Because it scares me. She scares me..."

"You're going to have to embrace her, luv. It's a part of who you are."

"I know..."

"We'll discover her together, yeah." Spikes hands playfully made their way to her backside and gave it a pinch, earning him a giggle. "I'll help you train tomorrow. Help you try and connect to her better, yeah? Believe it or not I actually know what it's like to constantly be at war with a deep hunger that rages within."

"How do you control it?"

"It's not about control.... it's about balance." Spike sat them up to move towards the back of the bed where the pillows were, propping himself up and opening his arms for her to join him. "The moment you try to control it," he covered them with the blankets. "to push it down, you're going to get resistance. And the second the demon takes over, carnage breaks loose. But to find that perfect balance... to coexist... It's more difficult, yeah, but you'll reap the most rewards."

"To be stronger?"

"In a way. It's taken me..."

Buffy let her thoughts consume her, eyes closing as her head moved to lie on Spike's chest as he spoke, explaining the thoughts of his demon and how long it had taken him to find the perfect balance between beast and man. His dulcet tones coupled with the cool hand he was stroking her head with, fingers weaving their way through her hair had her drifting of to sleep within minutes, body too tired and sore to stay awake any longer.

"...Probably why I find it so- and you're totally asleep. Never mind then, I'll show you tomorrow, luv."

Spike laid a kiss to her head before bringing the covers up to her shoulders, sliding them further into the bed where he was content to pull his mate into his arms.

Buffy woke with a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth, her body sore from the evenings activities. A groan escaped her as she stretched her arms above her head, the knots and muscles unwinding with the movement. She rolled over to greet her mate and frowned upon seeing the space next to her empty.

"Spike?"

She hadn't heard him get up or leave, but sitting up in bed she found that she was alone in the room. Her stomach dropped as thoughts of why he might have left her alone after the night they shared plagued her mind. The thoughts, however, were fleeting when she looked around the room. Spike had started another fire in the fireplace which was burning away in the corner of the room and she was glad to feel the heat radiating from it. The gown she had borrowed from Tara was draped across his chair next to the fire.

He warmed it for me

The thought brought a smile to her face, Spike wanting her clothes to be warm and comforting when she put them on. A pair of slipper-like shoes that she had also borrowed from Tara the day before were placed a few feet away from the fire as well.

She stood naked, stretching her arms above her head, spine cracking before padding her way across the room. Picking up the dress from the chair she almost didn't notice a small piece of parchment resting just under the gown. The script was beautiful, her fingers tracing the perfectly lined and cursive writings for a few moments before reading.

Dear Buffy,

You looked so peaceful sleeping that I couldn't bring myself to wake you.

I'll be in the library with Giles with breakfast ready and waiting. I should very much like for you to join us when you awake as I have something exciting planned for you today.

Yours,

Spike

Her fingers traced his name for a few moments before placing the note back on the chair. She slipped on the dress with a smile, loving the sensation the warm material had on her skin and moved to the thick curtains covering his window. They were still drawn closed and with a swoosh she swung them open. Light filtered into the room, casting it in a dull haze. It was snowing outside again and the chill from the glass had her shivering almost instantly, once again thankful for Tara's oversized gown that covered so much of her skin.

Hugging her arms around her body she felt the warmth the fire had given her gown leaving as she left the room, the halls and walls of the castle encasing her in their icy grip. Turning corners in the castle the walkways before her were slowly becoming familiar and she only had to backtrack her steps once when she ended up in a corridor she'd never seen before. Her stomach grumbled, face grimacing at the sound and trying to recall the last time she had eaten. Rounding another corner she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see the person coming towards her, letting out a squeak when she nearly walked straight into Tara who greeted her with a smile.

"You look well rested."

"I feel it, thank you."

Her cheeks were red she knew it. It was more than just the fabulous sleep she'd had that was making her glow. If Tara suspected otherwise she didn't press her on the matter and together they began walking in silence.

After the bond between her and Spike had been reaffirmed and solidified, there was no longer a reason for her to try to fight it. The constant battle that had been raging within her the day before while trying to keep Spike out had only been draining all her energy. Now, she felt him in the recesses of her mind. His presence was always there, just within her grasp and if she tried hard enough she could pick up what he was feeling.

Contentment.

His hunger had been sated, but his need and want for her had been ignited. A flood of goosebumps rushed down her spine making her shiver when an image of tangled limbs and swollen kiss filled lips rushed her.

Oh my!

"Do you know what we're being summoned for?"

She was broken from her musings by Tara's voice.

"Huh?"

"W-well..." Tara stammered, seeing the dazed look on Buffy's face. "Spike sent a servant to c-collect me and told me to join him in the library. He said he had an urgent task-"

"He left a note for me saying he had something planned for today, but I have no idea what it is." Buffy shrugged, brows furrowing as they walked the rest of the way in silence.

She tried concentrating on her mate again, but only got more images of tangled limbs and sheets sent her way. Was that what he was thinking about? Their evening together? As if he was answering her question another image came to her which had her eyes bugging. She was astride him in bed, her head tossed back as she came around him, chest heaving, hands raking down his chest, eyes locking with his.

Oh my god!

Tara nudged Buffy in the direction of the library, breaking her from her thoughts again. As they got closer to the doors the sweet smell of warm pastries wafted through the wood which had her mouth watering and stomach turning, all thoughts of lovemaking pushed aside.

"I think that's a marvelous idea!"

Giles voice was muffled slightly and the first they heard as they entered, pushing the heavy doors open. He was sipping on his drink with one hand while the other held tight on a glazed pastry. Spike was seated in his normal position at the end of the desk, a quill and paper in hand and looking quite pensive.

"What's a good idea?" Buffy asked, steps quickening as she moved to snatch a pastry from their collection before pulling up a chair. "Hmmm this is so good!"

"I'm glad you like it." Buffy shot Spike's amused face a pastry filled smile. "Tara, please help yourself." He turned back to Buffy and raised one eyebrow before licking his lips.

Oh I'm so on to you, buster!

Buffy narrowed her eyes.

"T-thank you." Tara stammered, walking to the other end of the table and away from Buffy and Spike who seemed to be having a stare-off.

Giles selected two more cups from the tray that sat to his left, pouring them each a tea from the kettle as Tara pulled up a chair.

"I was hoping to ask you if you wouldn't mind accompanying Buffy into the village today to buy some clothes?" Spike broke their stare first.

"Me?" Tara's eyes shot up at Spikes question.

"Yes you, luv."

"W-well yes I could, but surely someone else-"

"Do you not want to?" Buffy placed her hand on the stammering Tara's arm. "You really don't have to. I don't mind this dress, it's warm." Buffy tossed the skirts across her legs in example and snatched another pastry from the tray.

"I do! B-but I'm not very good with p-people. Willow normally goes into the village for these kinds of things.... But I guess you can't really ask her with a new baby..."

"I'm sure you'll do quite fine, dear." Giles smiled in assurance.

"Tha's why I'm making you a list." Spike passed her the piece of parchment he had been writing on when they entered. "I can't exactly go myself... though' this might help a bit."

"It does, thank you." Tara's eyes scanned the parchment, lips moving silently as she read each item.

"Why can't you come?" Buffy asked with a slight pout to her voice.

"Daylight..."

"Oh, right."

Idiot Buffy!

Her eyes were downcast as she ducked her head, suddenly feeling the fool. Of course he couldn't come with them. Not unless he wanted to be a big pile of ash. How could she have been so stupid to ask him such a thing! Her stomach dropped, breath hitching when Spike sent a rush of emotion to her through their bond, his eyes catching hers in a way that had her instantly calming. He knew she hadn't meant it to hurt him, a simple lapse in thought perhaps. She smiled and turned to lean towards the paper Tara was reading, but the angle made it hard to see anything.

"P-pants?"

"Training gear." Spike explained to Tara, pointing to Buffy's dress. "Can' exactly learn to fight in a dress now can she?"

"Hey! I can fight plenty fine in a dress I'll have you know." Buffy huffed.

"I've no doubt of it pet, but we're not just trying to fight, yeah." Spike shot her a look which that had her raising her eyebrows in understanding.

They were going to try to connect her with her primal side to find the perfect balance.

"Right.... pants." Buffy pointed to the paper. "Add boots to that too." She snatched another pastry, stomach starting to get full, but another wouldn't hurt.

"Training? Forgive me, but I thought you were requesting Tara to accompany Buffy into the village to gather the materials to make a gown for our yearly tenants gathering?"

"Balls! I'd forgotten about that." Spike scrunched up his face.

"What's a tenant's gathering?" Buffy slowed her chewing.

"The tenant's gathering is done yearly and it's when Spike invites all those who live on his land to the castle. They pay their rents and we hold a feast in celebration of another year to come." Giles explained, sipping his tea. "The invitations went out weeks ago. It's in a few days and I'm quite surprised you'd forgotten it actually." Giles raised an eyebrow.

"I've had other things on my mind mate." He shot back a look before turning to stare at Buffy again, who gulped under the intensity of his eyes.

"W-we can still get all the things you need to train with, b-but it won't hurt if we pick up some materials for a gown for you as well." Tara picked up the quill and began writing, stopping every few words to dip it in more ink.

"Is it safe? I mean... with Angelus and Drusilla on their way?" Buffy suddenly lost her appetite, dropping her pastry to her plate, choosing to sip her tea instead.

Spike could see the discomfort and fear in her eyes and longed to reach over the desk to take her hands in his, but instead he spoke.

"It'll be safe."

"Yes, quite." Giles nodded in agreement. "Willow and I assure to that every year."

"What do we do?"

All heads turned towards the new voice that entered the library, bringing with it another noise. A tiny gurgling that rose from the being in her arms as Oz trailed not too far behind, arms laden.

It's so tiny!

"We thought it was about time to bring this little guy for a walk."

Oz was carrying a bundle full of blankets and after helping Willow sit in a chair next to Giles he placed them across her lap and around her shoulders, keeping her warm.

"Casting the protection spell around the castle at the yearly gathering." Giles answered her question.

"Yes! Oh are you going into the village? Can you get me some more herbs? I need-"

Buffy wasn't paying attention to the voices around her as they spoke. Instead, her eyes were focused on the tiny human being nestled in his mother's arms. How was it that the body was capable of creating something so utterly...perfect. So tiny. Little fists came out from the blankets he was wrapped in to scratch at his face, his little fingers stopping to rest on his lips. Lips that were perfectly plumped up, ready and waiting to suckle against anything placed against them, including his own hands. His face scrunched up, eyes squeezing together and looking about ready to let out a wail, but then Willow rang a single finger down the center of his forehead and his features softened. Slipping into slumber once again, instantly calmed by his mothers soft touch.

Her own hand found its way to her stomach, eyes watering at the thought of what it would be like to have a tiny being of her own. The mere thought had once repulsed her after being held captive by Angelus and Drusilla for years, tormented and taunted on the ways and how he was going to breed her. To have her stomach grow with life inside it, life that would have been his demon offspring.

No!

That future would never happen. She was no longer the captive of a deranged beast. Now she was the mate of another demon, a choice that she wasn't given, but had come to accept nonetheless. Her first meeting with Spike had been jarring, he had been so cruel and just as beast-like as Angelus and Drusilla. Over time though she had seen him in a new light, he was different. He had friends. There was a side to him that she hadn't been looking for, but was surprised to find.

He was kind.

Gentle.

He was her friend.

Images from her own memories of his gentle touch the night before rushed her as his head came to rest on her chest, her fingers combing through the soft hair at the nape of his neck as he covered her body in kisses.

"You alright, luv?"

Spike broke her from her thoughts and she looked up to see all eyes trained on her. She coughed and nodded, breaking her gaze from Willows baby to turn to Tara.

"Is there anything else we need?"

"No, I think this is everything." Tara laughed at the now double-sided parchment written with items they were to buy.

"Let's get going then." Buffy stood, wiping the unshed tears from her eyes as she moved towards the library doors, Tara trailing not too far behind.

She briefly heard Spike murmur a request of 'go with them' to Oz who followed behind them a few minutes later.

They took the carriage into the village and not just horses, something to which she was thankful for. The snow had created a blanket of white on the ground and the air held a chill to it that she didn't wish to be riding out in.

The village itself reminder her of the one she used to visit with her parents when she was young. The streets lined with markets and stores of all kinds, with tellers selling everything you could imagine. They stopped at a store selling herbs so that Tara could complete the second half of her parchment, the list of items Willow had requested being rather extensive. Next they bought materials for her gown, she selected a few different shades of golds and reds that glimmered under sunlight. While in the store she also selected a few other materials in earthy tones, wanting some gowns to wear around the castle that would keep her warm and covered.

Next they stopped at a store that sold men's materials where Oz helped her select a few different types for pants. None of the clothes that were already made were going to fit her tiny frame and instead they were going to have to fashion the clothing's themselves.

Buffy trailed behind her two companions as they walked the market streets in the snow through the smaller stalls and tellers. She sampled some of the foods and sweets that were offered to her, but all the while couldn't stop the tingling that was running up her spine. Just like her mother had felt all those years ago when she had been confronted in the markets, something didn't feel right. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, narrowing at people as they walked past. All the stores and taverns seemed full of life, with people mingling about working and laughing even with the cold chill in the air.

"You ready to go?"

Buffy tried to pinpoint the source of the tingles shooting through her body, but came up empty. She spared one more glance towards the row of taverns at the edge of the village, frowning before speaking.

"Yeah...."

"A-are you ok?" Tara placed a hand on Buffy's arm, jolting her from her concentration.

"I'm ok," she shook it off and smiled. "Just overwhelming is all. There's something about this place that reminds me of something that happened when I was a child...."

"T-the marketplace can get quite busy." Tara agreed, nodding towards Oz who lead them through the crowds easily and back towards their carriage.


....................................



Inside a darkened room of a small tavern an impatient Vampiress ran a bloodied finger down the chest of her favorite screaming daddy.

"Scream for me."

Her eyes glistened with joy when the young daddy let out a groan, body trying to twist away from her as she slashed at his chest with her hands.

"Dru, stop playing with him." Angelus sat up from his position on their bed and growled at his mate, looking bored. "We need him to be able to walk."

"They're all going to be dead soon." Drusilla tilted her head, listening to a voice that no one else could hear. "The stars speak to me, but they tell me lies." Her hands slashed down again in her anger. "My William has been tainted by your sunshine!" Her fingers wrapped around her captives neck and squeezed, eyes widening in delight at the sounds he made while struggling to breathe. "He was not yours to take!"

"Dru!" Angelus stomped over to his mate and pried her fingers off from his neck. "We need him alive."

"But, he will ruin everything my love. He brings the sunshine with him." Drusilla's hands were shaking as Angelus walked her backward, holding her at arm's-length.

"You should not be allowed! The sunshine is not yours to bend at your will!"

Her victims mouth only panted for breath, windpipe slowly opening again after the attack. The man had many secrets that much she knew. Secrets that he would take to his grave. His lips twitched in a small knowing smile as he stared back at her.

"Darkness is where he belongs!"

"Yes, Dru and he'll get what's coming to him." Angelus dismissed his crazed mates words.

"Make them all bleed. Dead. They will all be dead, dead, dead....." Drusilla was staring down at her shaking fingers as Angelus sat her in a chair in the corner of the room, running his hands through her hair in his efforts to calm her.

"It won't be long now. Soon we will have her back..."

The carriage ride back from the marketplace was slow due to the fresh snow that had fallen, covering the path. The sun was just reaching midday when they finally arrived, joining Giles and Spike once again in the library. They had resumed the search on her family lineage with eager eyes. Giles was once again seated at his desk and reading from the diary she had picked up the day before while Spike sat in his chair at then end, eyes scanning through her father's notes.

Walking up to her mate she let her fingers linger on his shoulder, his own cool hand coming to rest atop hers, kissing her knuckles briefly before he let her continue to the window. It felt like she hadn't stopped for a moment all day, her feet were aching from being out in the snow covered streets of the marketplace with shoes that barely fit her. She collapsed into the window seat, in a room and position that was fast becoming her favorite place to rest. From this vantage point in the castle she had the best views of the castle grounds. Even with all the recent snowfall and the dull skies that winter offered it was a sight to behold. For how long she sat there entranced by the swaying of the snow covered trees outside she didn't know, but soon Oz was walking through the doors to tell her that Willow requested her presence. With a small sigh she heaved herself up from her window seat, limbs tired and sore and followed him from the room.

Willow was rocking her baby to sleep when they entered the room, her eyes lighting up when she saw them.

"He finally fell asleep!" She whispered, eyes wide and excited as she passed the child delicately into Oz's arms. "Sweet dreams my little Ollie." She bent to kiss his forehead.

"He's so tiny..." Buffy stepped closer to Oz, hesitantly reaching forward to touch him, but pulling back at the last minute.

"He is." Willow smiled, watching her sons fists scrunch together in his sleep.

"He's just like you." She smiled and met Oz's eyes.

"A werewolf?"

"Well yes," Buffy chuckled softly at Willows remark. "But I meant that he looks just like you."

"There's no denying this little guy is just like his daddy." Willow crooned proudly, kissing Oz's cheek.

Buffy closed her eyes and held her hand out to hover just over Oliver's chest, feeling the pulse of energy that radiated from his small form.

"He's definitely got the werewolf gene in him." She opened her eyes and had to blink a few times at seeing Oz and Willows startled looks.

"Your eyes... Tara told me, but wow!"

"Sorry. I can't control it."

She took a few steps back, blinking and stepping to the side as Oz walked from the room with Oliver. Willow took her hand and lead her over to a desk that sat against once wall.

"Tara told me a little of what's been going on." Willow offered a sympathetic smile. "It takes time to learn the control..."

"I hear a story there."

"One for another time. What I actually wanted to see you about was this."

"The leather to make my pants?"

Her eyebrows raised in confusion as Willow pointed to the items on the desk. On its surface were all the materials she had bought from the marketplace that morning that she was planning to use to fashion her training pants and top.

"Yes! Well, I think I can help. You need proper fighting clothes and I have the ability to make them, um... unique?"

"How so?"

"W-well you see, I can imbue the materials with magic so that it's like armour. It won't protect you from s-stab wounds or arrows, but it will be strong and light wearing."

"I don't know how I feel about magic being-"

"It's blood magic. Only your blood will be able to control the clothes." Willows eyes met hers, holding a certain tone as she continued. "No one can remove them without your consent."

She processed Willows words, understanding with perfect clarity what she was trying to say without actually saying it. If Angelus and Drusilla were to capture her again; and she prayed that they never would, having clothes that were unable to be removed could help.

They wouldn't be able to touch her.

Angelus wouldn't be able to breed her.

"Ok."

"Ok? Yes! This is great! Let me just grab a few things." Willow rushed around her room gathering various items in her hands before taking them from the bench to place on the floor.

"Are those-"

"I had kinda hoped you would say yes and got Tara to get me most of the ingredients I needed when you went to the village this morning." Willow said sheepishly, placing her items on the floor.

"How does this work exactly?" Buffy gathered the leather materials from the desk in her arms and brought them to the floor where Willow was placing candles out evenly in a wide circle.

"Place them on the floor here."

Willow motioned for her to place the items in the middle of the circle and began opening the small satchels of herbs that Tara had bought from the marketplace. She began mixing them in a small mortar bowl, crushing them together with her pestle, adding a pinch of each herb with every few turns.

She stood back and watched as Willow murmured under her breath, the circle of candles instantly lighting in unison from her command, surrounding the leather materials in their golden glow. Willow motioned for her to sit and she did, stepping back to sit outside the circle and crossing her legs beneath her gowns skirts.

"Now what?" She asked, feeling the energy pulsing from Willow. The air was thick with magic and it had her legs bouncing.

"Just a few more herbs and then I need some of your blood." Willow added the last pinch of herbs to the bowl before passing her a small knife.

"How much?"

"Um... just cut across your palm and let it drip in. There's a lot of material here and we want the clothes to be strong."

"Right..."

Willow placed the small bowl in the center of the candles and on top of the leather before looking up and nodding towards the knife she now held in her hands. She leaned forward with the knife and made a small incision on her palm, letting out a small hiss as the blade sliced through her skin. Droplets of crimson blood fell into the bowl freely and she stayed like that for a few long seconds, hand outstretched before Willow motioned that there was enough blood in the bowl. Before she could pull back her hand, Willow had reached forward to take her palm into her own.

"Sana... sana."

Hearing the whispered Latin words for heal being murmured, she glanced down and watched as the skin of her palm slowly started stitching back together until all that was left was a red line.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now I just need to cast and pour this across the materials."

"And that's it?" She stared down at the dark brown leather materials that she had selected with a raised eyebrow.

"There's a little bit more to it than that." Willow chuckled, taking a deep breath before starting her chanting.

She tried to follow along as Willow begun casting, but her murmured words were whispered as she poured the mixture onto the leather. The candles that had been placed carefully around them, flickered with Willows movements and as soon as she finished pouring the contents of the bowl onto the materials they shot up, their flames bursting high and bright. The sudden intense flash had Buffy jolting back in slight fear, glancing to Willow who was practically glowing white, energy pouring from her.

Holy hell!

She glanced down to the materials on the floor and watched with wide eyes as the mixture of herbs and blood begun to slowly seep into each other, the leather turning a deep burgundy red instead of the brown she had chosen. The leather and herbs were merging together to become one, imbuing and infusing the magic in its entirety.

Slowly, the candles began to flicker and die down back to normal. Willow took a shuddering breath before motioning for her to stand in the center of the circle with the leather.

"Here?"

"That's good. Can you also remove the dress? This is the difficult part starts." Willow held her hands out over the materials, her words coming out in soft pants as she struggled to hold on to the magic that was busting to be let out. Buffy did as she asked, sidestepping a candle that was still lowering it's flame.

"Great Goddess I call to thee, hoc praesidio bellator eam nocere volunt. Da fortitudinem eius et ecce agilitas in proelio. Haec armis actu secundo corio et respondeo solum eius imperio."

Protect this Warrior against all who wish her harm. Give her strength and agility in battle. May this armour act as a second skin and respond only to her command.

As Willow chanted, she watched in stunned amazement as the leather began drifting upwards on its own accord, floating its way towards her body. It started at her feet and she was thankful that she had also removed her shoes as the leather seemed to encase her ankles first. It wound its way up her legs, like snakes winding up a tree trunk before it encased her thighs and branching out to wrap around her hips and waist. It was warm, which surprised her and she gasped when it encased her torso. She held her arms out wide as the leather materials crept up higher, surrounding her in its magic as Willow chanted below. The burgundy leather inched out along her wrists, threading itself over and in between her fingers, creating gloves. She hadn't thought about making gloves, but now that she saw them, wriggling her fingers to test the feel, she discovered that she loved them. With the elements being so harsh and winter so cold it only made sense to be protected against everything and the gloves would make holding on to her weapons that much easier.

Once again the candles surrounding her shot up with their bright flames, making her jump. She took in her own deep shuddering breath when the leather stopped its ascent and seemed to tighten around her body. The material shrunk, squeezing her tight for a moment before she relaxed and allowed herself to breathe. It fit just like a second skin.

Just as Willow had asked it to.

"Holy shit!"

This time she couldn't help the words that escaped her when the candles finally sank back down, flickering out completely. Willow had given her more than she could have ever created on her own, including boots that seemed to be merged with the suit. It wasn't just a set of training pants and a top, no, it was a suit. It was designed to fit her in one complete piece that came together to be done up by a series of clips and laces on her front. The front, which was a little bit low cut for her liking, showed a generous amount of cleavage, but what it lacked in material there it more than made up for in other areas. Willow had given her a belt, complete with knife sheathes and a place to slip a sword through should she decide to fight with one.

"It's perfect!"

"I'm glad you think so." Willow smiled up at her sleepily, wavering slightly. "Sorry, that spell took a little out of me."

"Can I get you anything?" She rushed forward, already loving the way the leather moved with her, bending and adjusting to her quick movements as she helped Willow to her feet.

"Can you help me to the bed? Ollie should be asleep with Oz for another few hours which will give me time to rest."

"Of course."

She helped Willow to stand and together they hobbled to the bed. Willow looked pale and drained of all energy and once propped up against the pillows in her bed, seemed so small. She went back to pick up the candles and the satchels of what was left of the herbs that Willow hadn't used and placed them on the small hutch at the end of her bed.

"Oh! Before I forget," Willow tried sitting up and failed miserably, falling back against her pillows. "To get the suit off you just need to say removere vestes."

Remove clothes

"Romovere vestes?" Buffy raised one eyebrow and then shot her hands to the front of her suit as the clips and ties started unlacing and undoing on their own accord. "How do I get it back on?" She rushed out in a panic, eyes wide.

"Induendum vestes." Willow chuckled at seeing her failed attempts at holding the suit together.

Put on clothes

"Induendum vestes!" Buffy rushed out, sighing in relief when the laces started doing back up and the suit seemed to pull tight against her skin once more. "Right, got it. I can't thank you enough for this."

"Don't thank me yet. You have to train in it first to see if the spell really worked."

"Better go see my training partner then." Buffy grinned, glancing down at her new suit and the tantalizing way it held her cleavage together.

"Don't hurt him....much." Willow grinned, eyes already closed.

Buffy felt a buzz with energy as she walked the halls of the castle in her new fighting gear. It definitely fit her like a second skin and more than once did she have to pat her own behind to make sure that there was actually material covering her. Unlike the morning when she had walked the halls, she no longer felt the chill in the air, the suit encasing her in its warmth as well as its energy, as if it was an entity of its own.

"Into every generation a Chosen One is born. She alone will bring forth one that possesses the strength of both chosen and immortal. She is the beginning and the end. She is the Slayer."

"You think she's the Slayer?"

Buffy pushed open the library doors, hearing Spike and Giles talking before she entered.

"Who's the Slayer?"

"W-well I believe that it's you, dear." Giles pulled the glasses from his face, cheeks flushing red as he glanced away.

"What the bloody hell are you wearing?" Spike raised one eyebrow as he took in her outfit.

"My new fighting gear. Willow made it for me." Buffy grinned, her hands turning into fists as she flexed her muscles beneath the leather. "Neat huh!" A movement which had Spike shuffling in his seat.

"It's uh, quite unlike anything I've ever seen before." Giles stammered, eyes still averted.

"It's pretty amazing!" Buffy beamed, coming to stand just behind her mate and leaning across the desk.

The leather of her outfit creaked with her movements and she heard the small whimper that escaped him before a flush of heat reached her core. He was imagining pushing her up against a wall, her leather clad body wrapped around his. Her finger's wound their way to the back of his neck and played with the hairs there before she stood again.

"Slayer?"

"Righ'" Spike coughed, shifting in his seat again. "That would be you, luv."

"Sineya was the first. First of her kind and the first of her generation. There can only ever be one and we believe that you're her."

"I'm the slayer?"

"Possess the strength of both chosen and immortal..." Giles glanced down reading from his scrolls and parchments before meeting her eyes. "You are of the chosen bloodline and your primal side has definitely shown herself of late."

"I can't be..." Buffy's brows furrowed together before taking the parchment from him.

"Come again, luv?"

"I said, I can't be the slayer."

"But-"

"Into every generation a chosen one is born, that's me." Buffy cut off Giles and read, pointing to herself. "She alone will bring forth one that possesses the strength of both chosen and immortal. Bring forth one..." She glanced up to meet their vacant stares. "As in bring a child forth. She is the beginning and the end. She is the Slayer."

"Your child..." Giles whispered, staring at her stomach.

"I'm not-" Buffy passed him back the parchment, before meeting her mates quizzical gaze. "We can't... It's complicated."

"Well obviously... I'm dead." Spike spoke, deadpan.

"That's not entirely true..." Buffy bit her lip and glanced to Giles who seemed just as confused.

"Ang-," She took a deep breath. "Angelus has a prophecy about this child." She pointed to the parchment Giles held. "One regarding the Slayer. But he needed to find the right 'one', which we all know is me thanks to the depiction and drawing on the Becoming prophecy that my father gave you. W-what he doesn't know is how to get me pregnant. I only ever saw that particular prophecy once and at the time I had no idea that it was about me."

"Your father?" Giles asked, eyes already scanning his papers as she nodded.

"He kept it with him at all times."

"How is it done?" Spike turned in his chair to face her.

"All I remember is a stone..." She scrunched up her face, shaking her head as she tried to recall the memory. "It was a long time ago, I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright. I had rather hoped we were on the right track to figuring this all out." Giles slipped the glasses from his face again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Me too." She whispered, her hand moving to play with the hairs at the base of her mates neck again.

"No sense in worrying over something we can't control." Spike pulled her hand from his neck and stood. "Let's take one step at a time, luv. How about we train? See if we can coax those golden eyes to come out to play for a bit?"

The way Spike was staring at her, taking in her form coupled with the sensations she was feeling through their connection had her stomach fluttering.

"Bring it on."

She was more than ready to play.

As they slowly made their way to the lower levels of the castle; their path down the steep staircase illuminated by flaming torchlight, Buffy found herself lost in thought. Her muscles tensed, jaw clenching tighter with each step. Descending to the lower levels made her uneasy, her mind filling with the unpleasant memories of her time spent held captive by Angelus.

For two long years she had been his prisoner, escaping again and again only to be recaptured, punished and put under more watchful eyes. For too long she had been left alone in the cold and dark catacombs that lay beneath his castle to slowly wither away.

Angelus had left her to weaken, dangling like a piece of meat on a hook as her body slowly wasted away from malnutrition. She knew she was skin and bones, her hands automatically gliding across her hips as they descended another flight of stairs. Her body lacked mass, leaving her with hardly any muscle to speak of.

Before her capture; when she had been on the run with her father, they had eaten whatever they could hunt. Her body was constantly being pushed to its limits. Through the strenuous training drills he ran her through or even just trying to hunt down their next meal. Every day was a challenge. They were up at dawn and didn't stop until well after darkness had set in. She had been exhausted and tired at the end of each day, but she had felt strong.

Angelus had made her weak.

And then, she had been chosen.

Her body had pulsed to life after the becoming, renewed with an energy and strength she had never felt before.

And so she had run.

"I can feel you thinkin' in there, luv."

Her mate's dulcet tones drew her from her thoughts and she looked up to see the door they had stopped in front of.

"Sorry, bad memories."

"It's why we're down here."

His mouth formed a hard line and she knew without asking that he had felt her stomach turning in knots with each descending step. Spike opened the thick wooden door, it's hinges creaking under the weight and pressure. The cavern space wasn't as large and open as the library was, but it was easily twice the size of his bed chambers. They were beneath the castle, the dark browns and greys of the rock and stone of the cavern walls forming shadows as flaming torchlight lined their walls.

Buffy let her eye's wander as they stepped farther into the room. Along one wall of the cavern was a stand that held an array of swords, all of different lengths and shapes. To its left was another stand that held a bow, a leather quiver hanging from its rack filled with dozens of arrows, their feathers glistening against the torchlight above them. Her fingers reached out and grazed their tips before she turned to see the makeshift target at the end of the long cavern.

Heart lurching, she smiled sadly, longing to hear her fathers voice correcting her on her marksmanship.

"You're not going to do anyone any harm if you hold it like that. Here, like this..."

Her fingers twitched, desperate to reach out and take the bow and arrow in hand. She was restless and had been for days. Her mate knew it as he smiled at her, watching her examine the weapons.

The stand of swords caught her eye again and she moved closer. Each hilt was wrapped in different leathers with some made purely from silver and gold with gems in their pommels. Her eyes, however, were drawn towards one sword in particular that sat near the bottom of the stand, slowly gathering dust. It was a simple sword, its hilt wrapped in a dark leather that nearly matched her suit. Its end though, was what had captivated her. Thin slivers of gold wound their way around the grip towards the pommel which came to form the shape of an arrow head.

"They're quite something."

"They are." She drew her fingers back and stood, taking in the rest of the room.

Other than the sword rack, bow stand and the target at the end of the cavern the room was bare. All that was left was a wooden dummy stand that stood opposite the sword rack, posts sticking out at different heights and angles.

"Let's see if we can't tempt that golden-eyed-goddess of yours out hmm?" Spike smirked, catching her hand before she could reach down to pick the sword up from the last hold.

Inner demons before weapons. Gotcha!

She blushed under his gaze and let him lead her to the center of the room.

"Remember, it's all about balance." As he spoke he shook his head, his demon coming forward. "My demon is always with me."

"It's not the simple." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes it is. You can't have one without the other, luv." Spike took both her hands and unlaced her arms. "First thing you need to do is relax."

"I am relaxed!"

Spike sent her a pointed look and she huffed again, letting her hands fall to her side.

"Fine... I'm relaxed." She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm the butterflies that were fluttering around in her stomach.

"It's not about what's in here," he was walking around her and reached forward to tap her on the head. "It's here that matters." His hand came to stop above her heart just as he stepped in front of her.

"How am I supposed to do that if they think two different things?"

"It's all about balance, luv." Spike resumed his walking, his eyes boring holes into her as he eyed her outfit approvingly.

"How do I find the balance?"

"Relax.."

"Uh!"

Buffy threw her arms up in the air in impatience, earning her a chuckle from her mate.

"When I first found Oz, he was a righ' mess. Nearly tore apart the whole damn village in one night during a full moon before I managed to catch him off guard with the help of the witch."

"Willow.."

"It was Tara actually. Oz had no control over his beast..." Spike stopped in front of her again and met her eyes. "And now he can call the wolf forward and change whenever he wants to. He learned how to balance his inner wolf and coexist."

"How?"

"Close your eyes."

Buffy did as she was asked, closing her eyes and felt his fingers close around her biceps.

"I could feel you with Tara the other day," His thumbs traced circles on her arms. "She's got quite a skill at getting those around her to be calm, sneaky witch. She teach you breathing techniques?"

Buffy hmm'd in response, her eyes closing as she concentrated on her breathing, shoulders already relaxing. She tried to remember the guidance Tara had given her to connect herself to the earth, centering herself and uplifting her energy and only vaguely felt her mate's fingers slip from her arms.

"You can feel those with power around you no doubt. An' you know when some new beastie tries to sneak up on you."

His voice echoed in the cavern as he moved, his tone and presence sending the hairs on the back of her neck straight up, tingles shooting down her back.

"Yes."

With her eyes closed she turned her head to face him in the cavern, knowing exactly where he was standing because of the energy and strength that radiated from him.

"Use those same senses to feel that power within yourself."

Her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Just like Oz, your strength comes from within. It's always niggling at the edges of your subconscious, just itching to be let out. I know you're scared-"

"You're connected to the earth, born from it, warm and safe. Nothing can penetrate your bubble of light, not darkness or any evil spirits that seek to hinder you."

Buffy concentrated on her breathing, listening to Spikes voice, but also hearing Tara's soft tones in her own as she searched for the primal side of herself that lie dormant within.

"But she's a part of you, luv."

She couldn't stop the tremor of fear that went through her at the thought of letting her inner demon to the surface. What if she lost all control and went after Giles again? What if she went after Willows baby?

Oh gods no!

"Relax, pet."

Spike's fingers were around her biceps again, running soothing circles over her skin as he helped calm her.

Right! Inner demons. Breathing. Concentrate!

With her eyes closed she turned her thoughts inwards, catching wisps of small pulses of energy that rushed from her chest to her fingertips. Her body pulsed, muscles trembling as her stomach dropped, something inside her shifting and making its way to the surface. Just like water crashing down on an ocean shoreline, her body rippled with energy.

"Course, if this doesn't work there are always other ways to get her to come out to-"

She captured his wrists with reflexes that startled even her, opening her eyes to meet his grinning face.

"There she is."

Blue eyes met gold.

They were locked in a stare, neither breaking eye contact before she blinked and slowly loosened her grip on his wrists.

"Someone doesn't like not being in control." Spike singsonged playfully, chuckling at the growl she let out.

Letting his wrist go, she rolled her shoulders, grinning at the pulse of strength that ran through her. She could feel her muscles itching to move, her body desperately wanting to exert all the pent up energy that she had been withholding since she had first been chosen.

"Don't..." Her voice held a slight tremor as he stepped forward again.

"Shall we dance?"

His smirk and raised eyebrow as he circled her had her biting her lip in anticipation, body automatically slipping into a defensive stance.

"I don't want to hurt you."

The predatory gleam that formed in his eyes had her grinning back.

"I've got years on you, luv."

He jolted forward, arms moving to punch her just as her own shot up in reflex to his assault. She pushed back with the same movements, getting used to the gestures and stances again. Her new boots gripped the dirt beneath her beautifully, allowing her to push back from the balls of her feet as she bent to kick him.

"Someone's done this before." Spike singsonged again, speeding up his movements and using a little bit more force behind each punch and thrust.

"I've been training since I was born." She grinned back, matching him equally move for move, her new suit adjusting to her quick movements.

"Let's kick it up a notch then."

The cavern was filled with their grunts and smacks as fists and legs came into contact with one another in a flurry of movements. Spike did indeed have years of experience on her in this particular dance and seemed to match her move for move, the gleam in his eyes doing nothing but excite her.

He was enjoying this.

Her new suit absorbed the brunt of his kicks and punches that he landed to her arms and torso and more than once did she send a silent thank you towards Willow for her magics. The leather moved with her, tightening itself to her body when she bent low to spin or jump.

She had Spike's arm in a hold, her chest nearly flush to his back and felt him groan. Tilting her head to whisper in his ear, she grinned.

"Do you yield?"

"Never."

His foot connected with her shin, sending her stumbling back as he spun to rush her again. They sparred together, Spike gaining the upper hand for moments before she would knock his grip from hers only to start the dance again. Sweat was dripping from her hairline, running a thin trail from her neck to chest and more than once did she catch her mate staring at the glistening line above her bust.

Watching his gaze, she was caught off guard as he pushed her back against the cavern wall, emitting an 'oomph' upon impact. He dropped his mouth to her neck, groaning as he licked the sweat from her skin. Eyes fluttering closed at his ministrations, her hands found purchase on his hips and pulled him forward.

There was no need for words, his mouth and hands doing all the talking as they roamed her body. Her lips met his in a heated kiss, one leg lifting to allow his hips to push forward. The gasp and groan that escaped her had him growling, hands moving to her breasts and the fastenings of her suit.

"What the bleedin' hell!"

The frustrated exclamation had her giggling, dropping her leg to watch as he moved, leaning back to properly see how to undo her fastenings. His fingers gripped the laces, pulling them apart, but no sooner had he reached the second fastening was the first doing back up.

"What the fu-"

"Willow."

He sent her a glare, eyeing the laces as they tied themselves back up, suit pulling tight to her skin once more.

"Bloody witch is stopping me from ravaging you good and proper."

His glare was kinda cute, and she smiled, her own fingers playing with the laces before her face took a serious turn.

"She stopped the possibility of anyone from ravaging me."

Slowly lifting her head she met his eyes, the air thick between them as he processed her words.

"She might just get a kiss from me, yet. C'mere, luv."

Spike pulled her forward off from the wall, taking her hand in his.

"Angelus still has the prophecy and-"

"He won' lay a finger on you." His fingers pushed her chin up, lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. "You're mine."

"It won't come off unless I command it to. It's one of the requirements of the suit."

It seemed their training session done for the day as Spike led her from the room, their ascending trip up the winding staircase a lot faster than their trip down. Walking the halls of the castle they made it to his chambers, his hand resting on the small of her back as she entered the room. Another fire had been lit and the room was warm, her body still sweating and full of pent up energy.

"Promise me you'll never take it off. If... If he takes you... Don' ever remove this...."

His voice shook, his hand pushing back the tangled mass that was her hair from her neck.

"Spike-"

"Promise me."

"I promise."

His kiss was desperate, hands grabbing her hips to pull her forward. The kisses he trailed down her neck had her eyes rolling into the back of her neck, soft lips finding their way to her claim mark. His voice was rough and she knew his demon had come to the surface. They walked towards the bed, limbs locked around each other.

"You're mine."

Pushing him back with a playful shove, she grinned at seeing the confused look cross his face when he hit the mattress, human visage melting back into place. Closing her eyes she felt for the ripple of energy that echoed through her body, rolling her shoulders before opening her eyes.

Blue eyes met gold.

"Romovere vestes..."

For Buffy, the last two days had gone by in a blur. Most of her time had been consumed by researching. Spending hours on end re-reading her fathers scrolls and parchments as well as new texts and books that Giles had in his library. The documents were providing little in the way of new information, most of which she already knew and some of which they had predicted. She was of the chosen bloodline, one of the select few people within her family that had a deep connection to the first in the line, Sineya.

Buffy had already fulfilled one prophecy by becoming, being infused with powers and in doing so another prophecy had rolled into place. One where she was destined to be fatally wounded, left to bleed out and die.

Her stomach tightened at the growl Spike sent her through their bond.

"Potentially die then." She quipped quietly, shaking her head and the thought from her mind.

The two women fussing about her outfit didn't seem to hear her and continued their work as she lost herself in thought once again.

The hours that weren't spent in the library researching were spent beneath the castle training. It was mostly in the mornings after breakfast that her energy seemed to peak. Her mate gave no hesitation to her needs when it came to working that energy off and was in fact rather enthusiastic about her training requests. They sparred for hours at a time, both lost to the rhythm of their unique dance.

Spike challenged her in ways that no other had before, making her fathers training sessions look like a walk in the woods in comparison and she found herself exhausted after each session, her energy utterly spent.

Calling her primal side forward was getting easier with each attempt and even now; standing in Tara's room as she and Willow helped Buffy slip into her gown, could she feel the undercurrent of power running through her. Willow had asked her earlier what it felt like and she had responded with the only word that came to mind that described the sensation. Ripples. The strength and power that ran through her body felt like small ripples that were always on the tips of her fingers, just waiting to be called upon.

On reflex, her hand curled into a fist and she took a few deep breaths to push back the rising need to bring her strength forward. Learning the balance between the two was difficult, but Spike assured her that over time it would become second nature.

"You're going to be the talk of the gathering tonight." Tara murmured as she walked around Buffy to tighten the laces of her corset. Her hands worked at the lacing's and more than once did she gasp at the feel of her body being forced up-right. Tara finished tying the laces and bent to swish the skirts of her gown before adjusting the straps on her shoulders. "Spike w-won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

A blush rose to Buffy's cheeks, turning into a crimson flush when the memory of her morning training session hit her.

Their sessions over the last few days always seemed to end the same way, with both of them panting and lusting for the other. Their bond had strengthened considerably over the last forty-eight hours, but the thrill of the fight as they pushed and challenged each other's skill-set only heightened the need to feel the others skin pressed against their own.

Her mate would let out frustrated groans at being unable to remove her clothing, but seemed quite pleased to lie back and watch as she whispered her command, her suit unlacing itself. His eyes always formed a predatory gleam that sent shivers through her, a look that she was becoming quite fond of as the suit slipped from her skin with an ease and grace that had him licking his lips.

Their relationship was developing quickly, a friendship that was fast becoming something more. Spike was a very complex being. He acted differently around her than those he called family and it was clear to Buffy that when it was just the two of them alone he was capable of showing more emotion than she thought humanly possible. He was affectionate and gentle, traits that had her stomach turning in nerves. A demon shouldn't be capable of feeling such things. When she had asked him about his ability to love without a soul Spike had simply smiled, tucked the hair behind her ears and whispered sadly as if he was recalling a memory.

"Just because I don't have a soul doesn' mean I can't love. Humans do terrible things all the time even with souls. Vampires we... we can love quite well... if not wisely."

Each night since their claiming Spike would hold her until she fell asleep, his fingers threading themselves through her hair as his body curled around hers. It was hard to push past her training and the teachings her parents had spent years ingraining upon her. Demons were bad and needed to be killed, but Buffy was fast learning that it wasn't always the case. Oz was a werewolf, a creature that was held sway by the moon and yet he had shown her nothing but kindness since her arrival. In another time she would have killed him on sight simply for what he was and not who he was.

These were the thoughts that kept Buffy up at night, her brows constantly furrowing as she lie awake torn and confused.

Everything wasn't black and white.

There were so many shades of grey to the world that she had yet to see.

Spike had taken longer to show his true colours to her, their first meeting being jarring and abrupt, but even he had opened her eyes to the harsh truths of the world. There was no doubt in her mind that she was beginning to care for Spike a great deal. There was no point in fighting of denying his affections towards her as it only made him work harder for them.

The sensation and feel of joy was not one was accustomed to feeling.

Happiness was bubbling up inside her, surrounding her in its warmth.

She was content.

So why couldn't she shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen?

Buffy bit her lip and scrunched her brows together. She was finding it increasingly harder to push Spike out of her thoughts, her mind always laid open to him like a book. He was more difficult to read and only when she was in the same room as him could she pick up his thoughts and get images. Everything else was just a feeling or sensation.

His friends had become a surrogate family to her. Giles was fast becoming a father figure in her life while Willow, Oz and Tara were the friends she had never had as a child, but always longed for. Little baby Oliver was the tiniest being she had ever laid eyes on and she always felt a slight tremor of fear run through her when he was around.

For a long time Buffy had accepted that her parents would never have any more children and that she was to remain an only child. After her capture by Angelus and Drusilla; and the horrors that they had put her through, she had almost wished that she was barren. She still could be. The thought of having children scared her and it wasn't just the thought of childbirth itself.

She bit her lip and glanced towards Willow, who was fussing over her hair.

She feared hurting him.

And perhaps that was why she had yet to hold Oliver in her own arms. She pushed the thought from her mind and glanced down at her gown, the gold material shining against the candlelight in the room.

However, if Giles and Spike's discovery about the Slayer was true, then they would have her to believe that she wouldn't die from a stomach wound as the prophecy depicted.

Instead, she was to give birth to a child.

A hybrid.

Spike's child.

"You want to join me any time soon, Buffy?"

Willow was waving a hand in front of her face and she blushed.

"Sorry! Lost in my own thoughts tonight."

"That's ok, I totally get it. It's a lot to take in, but I think the gown is finally finished and as long as you don't mind crowds you'll be fine." Willow giggled, helping Tara fix the last strap on her shoulder.

"H-how many people are coming?"

"Well Spike has a lot of land and we usually invite all the tenants to the gathering so it can get kinda noisy. Some who have older children chose to leave them behind to mind the youngings, but with Angelus and Drusilla on the loose we thought it best to invite everyone... We don't want anyone's homes ransacked or ch-"

"He has a thing for young girls...." Visions of Angelus burning homes and slaughtering young children sent a shiver down Buffy's spine.

"So I'd say nearly eighty people?"

"Oh!" Buffy squeaked out, eyes going wide. "E-Eighty people. That's uhh... that's a lot. I'm not-"

"Y-you'll be fine. If I can manage it s-so can you." Tara stammered, offering her a look of support which did little to sooth her nerves.

"I'm not so good with people."

"You'll be fine. Spike will do most of the talking and Oz collects the rents for him. We'll be left to sit, eat and dance. Oh you'll love the music!"

"D-dancing?"

"Can't you dance?" Willow stepped back with a smile on her face, eyeing Buffy's gown and their masterpiece.

"My parents taught me how to fight..." Buffy raised one eyebrow as Tara stepped back to take in her whole form as well. "I've been held captive for the last two years.... So no, dancing hasn't been high up there with things for me to learn."

"Sorry." Willow whispered, ducking her head.

Shit

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out like that. I just... a lot has happened in the last few weeks and it's all a bit overwhelming. I'm not good with big crowds and no, I can't dance."

"S-Spike will teach you. I doubt the lady of the house can get away with not participating in her own party." Tara grimaced at seeing the look that crossed Buffy's face.

"I can't dance."

"That's what you said about calling your primal side forward and look at you now." Willow grinned, pointing to her eyes.

"I don't like being boxed into corners." Buffy harrumphed, letting out a sigh and running her hands down the golden material of her gown as she reigned back her power. "How do I look?"

"Dancing can wait until later. You," Willow beamed, walking around Buffy in a circle. "Look amazing."

"W-we don't like to use magics for everyday tasks, but neither of us could have sewn this together this fast w-without it." Tara smiled, nervously biting her lip and looking towards Willow.

"It's white magic, not dark. The mother won't see it as abuse of power." Willow offered Tara a gentle smile.

Buffy saw a look pass between them, one that she dared not ask about and pushed the thought aside. The materials she had selected from the village a few days prior had been sewn together to create a gown that was more grandeur than she could have ever envisioned. Only once had she seen her mother dressed in something so fine and for a moment she wondered if they looked anything alike.

The gown itself was floor length, with golden filigree threaded throughout. It was cinched in at her waist, her waistline accentuated due to the corset she wore beneath. The back was high, covering the scars that marred her skin, once again thankful to the two witches who seemed to already know what she was and was not comfortable showing. It had cap sleeves that had little bows of gold attached to the shoulders with a sash running down the sides of the gown. She felt like a princess and couldn't stop the butterflies that fluttered about in her stomach. The girls had managed to tame her tangled mass of hair and rather than pin it up; something Spike had wanted as it showed his claiming mark, they had loosened it in waves about her shoulders.

"I think you're ready." Willow smiled, nodding approvingly at their work.

"W-we'll see you down there." Tara stammered, walking with Buffy to the door.

They went there separate ways in the hallway, Tara going to her own room to finish getting ready and Buffy to Spikes room. Their room. It wasn't just his anymore. Spike had taken it upon himself to make his room as comfortable and livable for her as it could be. He was always conscious about the room's temperature and made sure a fire was always lit should she want to spend her time there. He'd had a big basin brought in and set to the side of the fire for her to bathe in so she wouldn't have to go to another room in the castle to wash and had a second chest placed at the end of their bed for her to put her things in.

When she walked into the room, the warmth from the fire creating a flush on her skin, her breath hitched and she stopped in her tracks. Spike was standing in the center of the room fastening the last loops of his belt. He looked incredible. Gone was the standard pants and dress shirt that she was used to seeing him in, instead he was covered head to toe in black leather. Black leather pants fit him like a second skin, with boots that rose up to his thighs. His jacket was fashioned together from a few different leathers and had different patterns laid into the front and arms. It was held together by leather buckles across his chest with another belt looped over the top around his waist. He had thrown a fur sleeveless coat that ran to the floor over the top and his empowering silhouette had her frozen in place.

He wasn't just Spike anymore, he was a leader. The master of his house and owner of a large estate. Tonight was about impact and power and he exuded that with his look.

Just as she was taking in his form, Spike was taking in hers, his eyes fixed in a dazzling gaze on the golds of her gown and her hair as it cascaded past her shoulders to drop across her back.

"You're a vision in gold, luv."

"You... uh-"

She had no words, a blush forming on her face as her mate chuckled, walking towards her to lay a kiss on her cheek. He stepped behind her, hand slipping into the pocket of his jacket before pulling something out and draping it across her neck. The contact against her skin made her jump, the item cold and heavy.

"Perfect."

Her fingers automatically went to her neck where Spike had latched together a silver chain. The jewels glistened in the firelight and she let out a gasp. No one had ever given her something so beautiful before and she couldn't stop the tears that formed in her eyes.

She wished her parents were here to see her dressed up as she was.

Spike felt her pain and placed his hands on either side of her hips, pulling her close to rest his forehead against hers. He didn't need to say anything, just being held within his arms had the trembling of her lip and the tears she was fighting ease.

"Thank you. It's beautiful."

"Shall we?" Spike stepped back and held out his forearm for her to take.

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the gathering that had begun beneath them. All of Spike's tenants had been slowly arriving for the last half an hour with Oz already below collecting the rents and making sure each guest was seated with food and drink. Opening her eyes she hesitantly placed her hand across his arm and nodded.

"You'll do fine." His other hand came up to give her fingers a reassuring squeeze as they exited the room, making their way down the hall. "Something will have to be done about your lack of skill when it comes to dancing though." Spike smirked, his tone suggesting something more as in image of her faltering in her movements from their training session that morning assaulted her.

"I can dance quite well thank you very much." She jibed back, eyes narrowing as she sent him the image of her tripping his legs out from beneath him with a kick causing him to land on his back that morning.

"I'll be with you every step of the way tonight."

His tone shifted again, carrying with it a weight of what she was feeling.

His hand squeezed hers.

"I know."

They stopped in front of the double doors to the ballroom and Buffy once again closed her eyes and took a deep and calming breath. Slowly the creaking of the doors as they opened was heard just as the lights and noise of the party assaulted them.

Her feet had barely taken two steps into the ballroom when all noise ceased. All heads turned in their direction and if it weren't for Spike holding her arm she would have tucked tail and fled. Buffy could hear the blood pumping away beneath her veins, echoing in her ears. The sound only drew her attention to how nervous she was.

Spike once again gave her hand a squeeze, but it did little to calm or reassure her.

The ballroom was full of foreign people and faces she didn't recognize and she tried for a few moments to spot the familiar faces of her surrogate family, but came up empty. Spike was calm and collected as they walked farther into the room, greeting his guests with smiles and small nods of acknowledgement. A few people stepped forward to shake his hand and he returned their warm greeting in kind, indicating that he hadn't seen them in a long time and was glad that they could make it.

Her face, she knew, was a mess of nerves. Not sure where to look Buffy followed Spike aimlessly as he led her around the ballroom, introducing her to his tenants as his mate. She smiled, allowing the male guests to kiss the back of her hand in greeting while the women simply dipped their forms in a curtsy or bow.

Buffy's body was on edge. Not only was she nervous, but with all the new faces in the room came new signatures and sensations. Not everyone within the ballroom walls was human and it was sending her primal senses haywire, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention.

After greeting the majority of his guests Spike, with his hand resting at the small of her back, led her to a table that was at the head of the ballroom. He smiled at her as he pulled out a chair, sending her a rush of emotions through their bond as she sat.

Sometimes he sent her clear words, but tonight he was beaming with pride. She was doing well and he was having fun showing her off. His thoughts made her blush and she smiled, ducking her head.

He remained standing and Buffy lost all thoughts, unable to hear a word of what he was saying as all eyes stayed trained on them. There was something extremely haunting in the way a whole ballroom full of people, including children stayed silent while he spoke. Spike exuded power and knew exactly how to command the attention and respect of those around him. It helped that he was a vampire and even she could feel the fierce energy radiating from him. Letting her eye's wander as he spoke she spotted Willow and Oz, who were sitting at the table closest to them. Willow was rocking little Oliver in her arms in an effort to calm his cries and she held back a small chuckle at the horrified look on Willows face. Tara sat next to them, offering Buffy a smile of her own that had her returning one in kind. She spotted Giles last, slowly and silently weaving his way through the throngs of people before sitting next to Tara and bending to whisper something in her ear. Tara's face dropped for a moment before she glanced Buffy's way, quickly spinning in her chair to whisper to Giles face-to-face.

"So here's to another year, a fantastic bloody harvest and not too much bloodshed!"

The clapping and few loud cheers from a table set to the side of the ballroom had Buffy jumping in her chair and Spike chuckling. She had been startled from her thoughts and staring, but it was a sound she welcomed. Hearing Spike laugh was a rarity, a sound that he so seldom let out, but one that she enjoyed. He slid down into his chair next to her and raised his hands to the castle staff, who were hovering at the edges of a doorway. Immediately they began pouring in through doors with trays laden with food.

The smell of cooked meats and vegetables assaulted Buffy within seconds of the trays being walked into the room and her stomach rumbled in anticipation. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, having known that there was going to be a great feast at the gathering.

"You best fill your plate, luv. This food won' last long. Not with the Dunbar's here."

"The Dunbars?"

"See the table at the end?"

Spike motioned towards a table next to the one Giles and Tara sat at and recognized it as the one where all the loud cheering had come from at the end of his speech.

"Mmm." Not wanting to draw unwanted eyes and attention their way from staring, Buffy simply nodded and began piling food onto her plate.

"Those are the Dunbars. Great tenants. Brilliant farmers. But a tad overzealous at times."

"Are they human?" Buffy was staring at the largest of the Dunbars, a man who was very broad shouldered, tall, with dark red hair and had a rather boisterous laugh. She felt herself smiling as the man tilted his head back, laughing loudly and jostling the people sitting next to him.

"No." Spike smiled, following her gaze. "Not all my tenants are... They fight amongst themselves sometimes, but this year has been good. Not too much bloodshed."

"What are they?" Buffy closed her eyes and tried to pinpoint the table's different signatures, a wave of goosebumps covering her skin in reflex.

"They're brachen demons."

"Brachen?"

"Well half brachen. Full bloods don' have the ability to revert to human form, but Deorsa and his family are half breeds."

"His wife is human." Buffy opened her eyes and stared at the small red-headed woman sitting next to the man Spike had pointed out as Deorsa.

"You're getting good, pet. We'll have you being able to sense the beasties a long way off soon."

Buffy blushed under Spikes gaze and comment and simply sat back to enjoy her meal.

True to his words the food didn't last long and before she knew what was happening plates were being cleared away and trays of drinks being set down in their place. A small cluster of people disbanded from their tables and made their way to a corner of the ballroom where a simple elevated platform had been set up. They begun setting up instruments, some sitting in chairs while others stood and soon the great room echoed with their sounds.

Her heart lurched in her chest, stomach dropping at what the music meant.

Dancing...

She let out a whimper, slinking down further into her seat while cradling a large glass of wine. Spike simply raised an eyebrow to her movements, bringing his own glass to his lips in amusement, sipping it through a smirk.

"Ceannard!"

Her fear of being asked to dance was broken by a loud accented voice. The large man; Deorsa, was making his way to their table and Buffy for the first time was able to see him at full height. He stood easily over six feet tall, his body built of solid muscle that rippled with strength as he moved. He wore firm fitting clothing that only accentuated the power beneath. Overall, he struck a very intimidating figure.

"Deorsa," Spike nodded his acknowledgement. "I see you've been keeping Aileen busy."

"Aye! She's a bonnie wee lass, the bairne isnae but four months old now." He beamed proudly, casting a glass towards the table he had just vacated.

Buffy followed his eyes towards the woman to whom they were both staring at. A thin red-headed woman; Aileen she surmised, sat cradling a small baby in her arms while another handful of children of all different ages sat surrounding her.

"Who's this lassie then? Did ye finally get yerself a wifie?"

"In a way." Spike smirked and met the man's wide smile.

"Huh?" Buffy glanced between the two, feeling slightly lost in their conversation due to Deorsa's thick accent.

"Dinnae fasch yerself, lassie. I dinnae think ceannard would ever get over that awfy pie-faced lass-"

"Watch it." Spike growled and Buffy jumped in her seat.

Pie-faced lass?

She scrunched her face up in confusion and glanced at her mate, who was glaring at Deorsa.

"I dinnae mean te offend ye, ceannard." Deorsa rushed to apologize, smiling at Buffy while extending his hand for her to shake. "I'm Deorsa, but ye ken call me George."

"It's a pleasure to meet you George." Buffy took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Aye she's a strong lassie then! And bonnie too!" George grinned, pulling back his hand.

"She's unique." Spike agreed, placing a palm on top of Buffy's knee underneath the table and giving it a squeeze.

"How long have you been one of Spike's tenants?" She blushed under Spikes compliment, lifting her head to meet George's wide smile.

"Spike is it? Nae, that's William te me. He disnae like it when I call him that ye ken. So Ceannard wi do." George nodded with a small grin, pulling up a chair to sit opposite them so that he wasn't standing towering over them.

"What does ceannard mean?"

"It means leader, pet."

"Aye, leader."

Buffy decided that she liked George and his loud and boisterous personality. His general stature was tall and intimidating and his personality just as large, but she found that he made her smile. His forever beaming face had her muscles relaxing and nerves easing.

George's statement however, had her mate sitting back into his chair and reaching for the wine in front of him to pour a rather large amount into his glass. She knew that Spike's real name was William. Her father's books on the Aurelius vampire lineage were full of numerous tales of bloodshed and terror that William the Bloody had wreaked, but she hadn't known how much he really didn't like to be called it.

For the briefest of seconds she recalled the flashes of memories from their shared dreams and sent her mate a questioning gaze. His face remained hardened and unreadable, their connection still. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. He was known as William the Bloody for a reason and he clearly wanted those memories left in the past. She wasn't going to pry, so instead, she turned her attention back to George as he opened his mouth to answer her question.

"How long have I ken ye?" He glanced towards Spike. "Say, going on four years. He's a cannie lad, kept my arse outta trouble more then once."

"And it better stay that way."

"Aye folk hae convenient memories."

People only remember what they want to remember.

Buffy couldn't help but chuckle at the translation Spike sent through to her. While she could pick up bits and pieces of their conversation there were some words and phrases George used that eluded her.

What does a pie-faced lassie mean?

It describes a plain looking girl.

"Oh."

Buffy hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud until George tilted his head to the side in question. Glancing towards Spike she noticed his hard set jaw and tense face. Clearly any mention of his ex from his tenants was a subject he was not willing to discuss, but she suspected that Spikes connection with George ran deeper than most. He leaned forward to talk directly to George and she sat further back in her chair to survey the ballroom and its inhabitants, letting them talk privately.

The ballroom was loud with over eighty people crammed inside, all of different ages and as she closed her eyes, she recognized different species. Spike had mentioned that not all of his tenants were human, but with so many of them showing human features she had no idea of knowing what they actually looked like in their true form. While the room was full of adults content to drink and celebrate another year passing, there were the younger few who ran about in order to entertain themselves. Children seldom sat still for long and she watched as a few ducked under tables, small giggles and shouts coming from different directions. Amusement covered her face when more than once parents raced after their misbehaving offspring.

It was hard to hold a conversation without shouting over the noise and she wondered how Spike and George were doing it. Letting her eyes scan the room further it was getting harder to keep herself closed off from her mate and not feel every emotion that he was sending her. Whatever George was saying was clearly unsettling him.

Just as she was reaching forward for her glass of wine a small red-headed boy of about six years old ran up to their table.

"Da!"

"This is my wee lad Angus." George pulled the boy up onto his lap and wiped the mess of red curls from his eyes that were drooping across his face.

"Hello Angus." Buffy didn't know what else to say, smiling and staring blankly at the child.

I'm so not good at this.

"Mister Ceannard. Mister Ceannard's wifie."

Spike let out a chuckle at the small boys greeting, watching as he wriggled in his fathers lap.

"Dinnae footer so much eh. Awae ye go!" George set him on the ground, patting his bottom and motioning for him to go back to his mother.

"How many nights ago was it?" Spike growled after Angus had scampered off, resuming their conversation.

"Nae but two. I was gonnae tell ye sooner, but"

"You should have told me right after it happened."

"Aye! And leave my wife and bairnes alone in te freezing cold wi naeone te pretect them!" George sat up straight in his chair, shoulders widening. "I'm tellin ye nae."

"You're right." Spike closed his eyes, letting out an unnecessary breath.

"Whatever it is, it needs a fixing, ye ken. I'll nae let anyone hurt me or mine. Including you, ceannard."

"It's not safe right now. You got my message? Good. I'll come out tomorrow to fix your barn and see who or what did the damage. The horses will be replaced. Righ' now though, Rupert is summoning me." Spike almost groaned out loud, seeing the waving 'come here' gesture Giles was giving him. "You better not start another figh' with Clem or I'll never hear the end of it."

"He started it last time!"

"I still don' believe you. Just don' go starting fights when you have no evidence that it's actually him doing the damage."

"Fine wi me."

George held his hands up in defeat as Spike stood, bending down to kiss Buffy on the cheek before he made his way over to Giles. She watched him leave with a heavy heart. She could feel that he was already drained from just one conversation. Being the landowner to so many tenants meant that he was constantly trying to keep the peace between them and gathering from what she had overheard someone or something had destroyed George's barn and taken his livestock. Her mates following weeks were going to be long and tiresome and she sent him a rush of strength through their bond which had him standing up straighter as he walked.

There was a fleeting moment of silence after Spike left, broken when George spoke.

"Will ye care te dance wi me?"

"Oh, I can't dance! Sorry." Buffy blushed crimson, shaking her head no. "T-thank you for the offer though." She stammered, seeing the look that fell across George's face at her rejection.

"Ye ken fight no?"

"Yes..."

Buffy raised an eyebrow, glancing towards her mate in an attempt to get him to come back and rescue her from the inevitable. Spike, if he felt her through their bond or not didn't turn around, he was too lost in his conversation, talking animatedly with Giles.

"Aye well it's te same wi dancing. Ye dinnae teach yer granny tae suck eggs."

"What?"

"Come on, on ye feet lassie!"

"What does my grandmother and... and eggs have to do with dancing?"

"It means ye cannae teach someone something they already ken. Ye ken?" George stood towering above her with his forearm held out waiting for her to take it.

God help me!

Her stomach filled with dread and trepidation at the thought of dancing in front of all these people, but she knew she had no choice but to accept George's offered arm. Any further rejection to his person wouldn't only embarrass him further, but it would embarrass Spike.

What kind of mate would she be? What kind of lady of the house would she be, if she didn't get to know her mate's tenants.

Their tenants.

"Kinda." She laughed at George's confusing statement and stood, placing her palm on his arm.

"Aye, you'll do fine lassie. I'll teach ye."

He grinned, placing his hand atop hers and giving it a few pats of reassurance before he led her to the center of the ballroom where a few other guests had begun to dance.

The rush of strength that engulfed his entire being within moments of parting from his mate had his spine straightening, shoulders widening and step slowing. He reveled in the sensations and the momentary reprieve they offered amongst the chaos of the gathering around him.

He had seen the wide look in Rupert's eyes from across the ballroom as he was summoned, letting out a wearing sigh and parting from his table. The gatherings were an affair that he only held once a year for this very reason, he was constantly pulled in too many directions at once. One way or another, through voicing their complaints directly to him or to Oz, each tenant spent the majority of their evening putting in complaints on their fellow neighbours and repairs needing seeing to on their properties.

However, the look on Rupert's face this evening was not one that held the same old tales of cottage repairs or neighbourly feuds, no, something was troubling him. Nearing his table Spike could see him shuffling his weight from one foot to the other, anxiously waiting to speak to him.

"Wha's wrong?"

From the outside looking in one would assume that Spike had merely wrapped his arm around Giles shoulders in a hug, bringing him close to whisper as they spoke, but the other occupants on the table knew better than that. Willow muttered a few incantations under her breath and soon all noise around them ceased, their table encased in a muted bubble so that no outside ears could hear what was being said.

"I've spoken to a few tenants who live the closest to the village... Lucus; the empath demon, was quite unsettled." Giles cast a worried glance towards a man sitting alone in a quiet corner at the back of the room.

The candlelight that flooded the great ballroom did little to illuminate the pale red skin that covered his body. The two horns that ran up either side of his forehead were shadowed by his unruly and uncombed hair, the tops of his drooping ears peaking out from the sides as he sat staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused.

Spike furrowed his features, Rupert's words coupled with seeing Lucus' detached and withdrawn state troubled him. For an empath to be so disconnected and at odds with the goings on around him was cause for worry. Something wasn't right.

"The townsfolk have stopped going out at night. Lucus said he can feel... madness surrounding him."

They both cast another hesitant glance towards Lucus and Spike growled low, the sound reverberating off of Willows bubble charm. He knew that distant faraway look that had fallen across Lucus's face. He had seen in many times before.

"Drusilla..."

"And Angelus, yes. I have no doubt that it's them."

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They had all expected Angelus and Drusilla to be on their way and expected a fierce retaliation for taking Buffy and killing Angelus's head daylight guard. But, hearing that they were already in the town was not something he was ready for.

"Deorsa's property was raided a few nigh's ago..."

"A-Aileen was telling me before you walked in that her two youngest found their c-cows in the barn." Tara stammered from her seat. "T-their throats had been ripped out."

Spike turned to the side and located Deorsa's red-headed wife easily. Aileen was sitting on her bench seat at her table with the smallest and newest of the Dunbar's cradled protectively in her arms while two toddlers sat huddled to her side.

"He said the barn was torn to shreds, didn' say his kids had found the aftermath... Christ." Fingers pinched the bridge of his nose before running his palm down his face.

"Most tenants know how to protect themselves, but the ones with children-"

"They must be so afraid." Willow whispered, glancing at a few familiar faces in the crowd who had small children bundled up in their arms.

"What is he waiting for?" Oz piped up, wrapping an arm around Willow in comfort.

"Why hasn't he struck yet?" Willow was stroking Oliver's forehead in an effort to stop his wriggling.

"Waiting for the most opportune time I would assume."

Although Giles voice was strong, it still held an undercurrent of fear, one that had him glancing around the room, fingers outstretched as he tested his wards around the property.

"B-but that would be tonight. What better place to cause a scene-" Tara's eyes widened.

"I thought-"

"He can't get in, I assure you." Giles reassured the nervous Tara, who took a few deep breaths.

What better place indeed.

Spike scanned the ballroom filled with his tenants for Angelus and Drusilla with narrowed eyes. None of the tenants had glanced or looked at their table suspiciously, the spell Willow had cast making it look like from the outside in that they were all just having a casual conversation.

"The protection spell that we placed around the castle will not allow the dead to pass through." Giles reiterated, lifting any doubts in their mind of Angelus or Drusilla sneaking their way into the castle.

"Cunning. I like it." Oz chimed in, smiling.

"I thought so too! You have to have a heartbeat to get through the barrier and none of the tenants are vampires so it's perfectly safe." Willow grinned, proud of her contribution to the protection wards.

"He can' get to us tonight, but tha's not going to stop him from trying again."

Spikes words had their shoulders deflating. It was a small victory to deny any other vampire entrance to the castle, but what happened once it came time for the tenants to leave and travel back to their homes? What was to stop Angelus or Drusilla from raiding carriages and destroying lives as they left from the safe sanctuary his castle provided.

"We can't stop him from attacking the tenants as they leave... They can't all bloody well stay here!"

"We'll think of something." Giles words did little to assure them, all eyes turned outwards at the ballroom full of innocent and unsuspecting guests.

"We need to find out where he's hiding."

"Take the fight to him, you mean?"

"Precisely."

"You've got yerself a bonnie lass there ceannard." Aileen's voice echoed oddly off the bubble charm Willow had cast as she made her way to their table, her arms still holding her youngest.

Willow muttered another incantation under her breath and the bubble around them popped, the noise and excitement of the festivities encasing them once more.

"I havnae seen mo chridhe dance or laugh so freely in years, ye ken." She tilted her head in a gesture towards the middle of the ballroom where people had begun to dance. Her smiling tone and budding laughter was shining through her eyes and Spike couldn't help but follow her gaze.

His eyes found Deorsa easily, the man standing a head above the rest of his tenants at well over six feet tall. His boisterous laughter lit up the ballroom, muffled slightly by the sounds of the music as guests around him stopped mid dance to watch as he threw his head back and laughed. One hand held on to his stomach, his head shaking as he wiped the tears from his eyes. Using his hands, he spoke animatedly to the small woman in gold dancing with him.

Buffy.

Buffy, who was red in the face from blushing, her laughter following alongside Deorsa's. She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head before stopping to stare up at Deorsa with determined eyes.

Spike watched on in amusement as Deorsa once again took her hands and helped to position her into the correct stance for a waltz, ever careful not to step too close. She was, after all, not his woman and any interaction with the opposite sex, especially one that was his leader's mate was conducted with the uttermost respect.

He was patient and slow with her, stepping one way and then another, letting Buffy watch his feet as he led her through another dance. The gold of her dress flickered against all the candlelight in the ballroom as Deorsa spun her in a circle, a move that had her giggling. She looked like a golden goddess, all wrapped up in refined silk and sunlight.

As if she could feel his eyes on her, Buffy turned her head and met his gaze, grinning wide before allowing Deorsa to move her back into her starting stance.

"However did ye meet such a lass?" Aileen smiled knowingly, watching the emotions flicker across Spike's face.

Spike recalled the moment he had laid eyes on Buffy, her back had been to him at the time, her shirt torn open by the blow Riley had delivered to her. Blood had been pouring down her back and other wounds, her blonde hair was a tangled mass, but she had strength and determination in her eyes. He had watched her fight, watched her fall and then had carried her to their Inn where Willow, Tara and Oz had patched her up.

Their first official meeting had come after she had woken, groggy from Willows potions and weak from her blood-loss, but even then she had triggered something in him. From the moment his lips had touched her skin, the moment he had licked the wound closed on her palm his demon had chosen her as his.

Of course he had fought against his demons desires. She was human, one of the chosen and it simply was not done.

But they'd had no choice, and now she was his.

His.

His golden goddess that held a deeper power within herself that had been longing to come out, only to be awakened by his demon. His perfect match. The moment her golden eyes connected with his he knew he would be hers for as long as she wished. Once they had become a mated pair, something that was sacred amongst his kind and a ceremony that was rarely acted upon, she had opened a door into a world of possibility.

He was dead, born again into darkness to as a vampire, but his demon still felt.

Still cared.

Buffy had managed to breathe life into a heart that did not beat, but managed to feel just as deeply as if it were alive.

"We rescued her."

"Aye, rescue from whom?" Her brows narrowed, glancing back towards the dancing and laughing duo.

"Some very bad people." Giles spoke again, answering Aileen's questions as Spike was too lost in his stare to respond.

"Drusilla."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding, mouth agape as Spike turned back around.

"Drusilla and Angelus are here to take her back and we think they're the ones who destroyed your barn and killed your livestock."

"That women was always away wae the fairies. I dinnae ken how ye did it for so long ceannard."

"Some days I don' know either." His voice echoed with the years of torment and pain that Drusilla had wreaked with her constant toying and manipulation.

"The great baw heided dolt Angelus is nae better. Ye ken count on me and mo chridhe for help, ye hear me. I'll nae take no for an answer." Aileen's face was set and determined, her eyes never wavering from his.

"I wouldn't ask you to fight." Spike stared down at the tiny bundle of red-headed curls that she held in her arms. "But, I won' say no to your help."

"We're safe here for the time being, but we need to find out where they're hiding." Willow spoke up, having stood to walk and move in small circles while bouncing a restless Oliver in her arms.

"The village is the most likely. Naeone here would be foolish enough tae house them."

"Is anyone acting odd tonight? Out of character that you've seen?" Giles pulled the glasses from his face to clean.

"Aye well there's Clement, but he and mo chridhe havenae been talking these last few days. Had a falling out ye ken. Lucus is very sullen-" she nodded towards the distant figure of Lucus still sitting in his chair, "most unusual for his kind. Empath demons havnae choice but te feel and he's nae very jolly tonight."

"That lassie dosenae have two left feet!" Deorsa's voice beamed over the rest of the tenants surrounding them as he made his way through the crowd towards them. "She's a mighty fine dancer ye ken. She'll have this gathering stying up tae the clugs oh the nite with all the laddies wanting a dance."

"That's it!" Tara stood up, almost tripping over her seat in her haste to move. At the confused faces surrounding her she explained her epiphany. "Daylight!"

"Aye daylight, the wee hours of the morning. Is that what I dinnae say?" Deorsa glanced towards his wife who simply nodded in confirmation.

"N-no. Well yes... But I mean-" She took a deep breath. "To keep everyone safe and make sure that no one is attacked when they leave w-we just have to wait for daylight."

"Angelus and Drusilla can't stay out once day breaks."

"They'll have to retreat."

"That's a brilliant idea, luv."

"It's perfect. Once day breaks the tenants will be safe to return to their homes and there will be less of a chance to be attached on the road."

"Attacked on the the road ye say? What beastie needs a seein' te?"

"Mo chridhe," Aileen laid a hand on her husband's arm. "It's the baw heaided dolt and his wee fairy queen."

"Angelus and Drusilla? I'll nae let anyone hurt me or mine. Ye can count on me te fight if it needs doing, ceannard."

"Tha-"

"Guys!" Willow cut off Spike and Deorsa before they could continue, her eyes wide and alarmed as she searched the ballroom. "Where's Buffy?"

All eyes scanned the ballroom for the small blonde-headed woman wrapped in gold and came up empty.

Buffy was nowhere in sight.

Her hands were shaking and she knew there was no way George wasn't able to feel the clamminess of her palms as they trembled in his grasp as he led her to the center of the ballroom. A a small group of people were gathered together, all partnered off and dancing, delicately weaving and turning to the beat of the music that was being played. She envied the grace and ease in which the movements came so easily to them and sent a silent prayer upward, hoping that she wouldn't make a complete ass out of herself.

George no doubt felt her nervous trembling and saw the light sheen of perspiration that had developed on her brow, her body's automatic response to the daunting task he had requested she perform.

He gave her hand a squeeze, his lips turning up into a reassuring smile which did little to ease her fears. Her meek nod and worried features had him reaffirming his first gesture with words.

"You'll do fine, lassie. It's easy ye ken." He stood opposite her, arms outstretched as he moved and adjusted her upper limbs into the proper positions. "Ye ken how te fight and this isnae different. Ye move. Ye lunge. Ye turn."

Because it's that easy! Right....I can do this... I think...

Every so slowly George took one step to the side, waiting for her to do the same before walking a step towards her and motioning with his head that she move backwards with him. When she did he stepped again and swayed them in a slow turn before repeating the sequence once more.

Her cheeks were hot, flushing a deeper shade of crimson each time that she cast her eyes southwards to watch George move his feet, quickly adjusting her own steps to follow suit and grateful that his arms were holding her upright as more than once did she stumble over his feet. It was a bit of a stretch for her to reach his shoulders; she being five-foot nothing and he being well over six feet tall, so instead he allowed her to lay her arm across his lowered forearm. More than once she stepped on his toes, hastily wincing her apology to him, to which he merely chuckled in response to, causing her cheeks flush further.

"I'm sorry! I'm terrible at this!" Buffy explained, stopping to step away from him moments later after squashing his feet with her own for what seemed like the tenth time in a matter of minutes.

Her palms were sweaty and she nervously ran them down the golden material of her dress before pushing the stray hairs from her face. Her brows furrowed together in worry and George was quick to dissuade her from her current thoughts.

"Dinnae fash yerself, lass. Ye dinnae learn te fight so easily at first I imagine."

"I did not, no." Buffy smiled, tilting her head as he offered her his arms once more. "You remind me a little of my father." George smiled at the faraway look she had in her eyes. "He had a lot of patience too when it came to teaching me certain skills."

"Aye, well I've got four bairnes te look after. If I dinnae have any patience I'd have gone grey years ago!"

The widening of his eyes and facetious tone at his own comment made her laugh. She could see in his eyes that he had struggled more than once to be patient with his children, just as her father had on more than one occasion struggled with her.

She could hear her fathers voice in her head as he reprimanded her for playing in their barn with the horses when she should have been practicing her movements. He had been so mad at her, but his resolve always crumbled when she looked up at him with big eyes. He would let out a huff of air, straighten his shoulders and march her back to the center of their training area.

Just as the memory whipped past her, her eyes lit up with an idea, lips forming a wide grin.

When her father was unable to direct her with words; most of the time chastising her for the way she held her weapons, he had opted to train alongside her instead. He would help guide and move her arms and legs into the positions and stances she needed to be in.

As George had mentioned earlier, dancing was the same as fighting and she hadn't learned to fight overnight. It had taken months and months of rigorous training to get to a level her father had been confident with and even now she was still learning new movements. Over the years her technique had changed and it was all due to the opponents she fought and the people who were continuing to teach her.

You have to adapt...

This time, however, her father wasn't there to guide her, instead in his place was George.

George, who was patiently waiting in front of her with a strange look upon his face. Dancing, just like fighting was a paired sport and just like her father had, she would let George guide her through the movements.

However unconventional her idea may seem to onlookers.

"Let's try this. Just until I can pick up the movements on my own." Lifting the base of her dress skirts, Buffy stepped up onto the tops of his feet and let the material fall back down into place covering them.

"I dinnae ken who taught ye to fight, but ye'll learn to dance plenty fast like this, lass."

His amused and rather boisterous laugh had her chuckling as well, taking up both of his offered arms and hands.

As George moved his feet; dancing a little faster this time, Buffy tried her hardest to keep her face passive and her feet atop his. They were indeed dancing together now, her skirts hiding their secret from the rest of the ballroom's occupants that she wasn't actually moving her own limbs. Laughter twinkled at the edges of both of their eyes and when her feet slipped off of his as he twirled them; nearly toppling over, they couldn't suppress their laughter any longer.

George helped right her back to a stand before she fell to the ground and in the next breathe was throwing his head back and laughing, one hand on his stomach while the other wiped tears from his eyes.

"Ye nearly went arse overhead, lassie. I havnae laughed so much since I was a wean!"

His hands imitated the motions of her fall and she couldn't stop the blush rising on her cheeks or stop the laughter that followed alongside his. People around them paused, heads turning as they stopped their own dancing to see what they were chuckling over and for the first time Buffy remembered where she was. She had been terrified at the mere thought of having to dance in front of a ballroom full of people, but now found herself carefree and realized that not once had she cast a glance to any of the guests around her.

She was simply enjoying the ever-charismatic company of George Dunbar.

"Right!" Her eyes were determined as she wiped the stray tears her laughter had produced from her face. "Let's see if I can do the movements without the added help this time."

"Aye, yer a determined lassie. Tis nae wonder ceannard likes ye so."

Stepping up to take her starting stance with a confidence she didn't know she possessed, she couldn't stop the blush that flushed her cheeks or the skip of a beat her heart made at the mention of her mate. George slowed their movements down again. She still had to glance at his feet a few times, but with each turn around the ballroom she grew more confident in her steps.

"However ye came to be here... I'm glad ceannard has found ye."

George spun her in a circle, a move that had her hair whipping about and a giggle bursting forth from her lips. She didn't know how to respond to his comment, her entrance into Spike's life having had its ups and downs, so she settled for simply smiling up at him instead.

George turned his head to a cluster of tables off to the side of the ballroom, a lovelorn look forming on his face.

"But te see her was te love her. Love but her, and love forever."

"What?"

"Ye've cast a wee spell on that man, lassie. I havnae seen that look in his eyes for a very long time." He dragged out his r's, his words holding a deeper meaning to them that she wasn't sure she understood.

Buffy turned her head and followed his gaze to the cluster of tables set to the side of the ballroom and saw Giles talking to George's wife Aileen. She met the eyes of her mate in the next breathe and was unable to stop the wide smile that lit up her face at the look of longing he was sending her.

"Ye ken he's a hard man, lassie... Ye make him smile... Dinnae ever hurt the lad..."

"I'll try not to." Her response was a whisper, their dance ending.

"I look forward te seein you again, but my wee bairn is restless in mo chridhe's arms." He bowed before her, taking her small hand in his and bestowing upon it a feather-light kiss. "Ceannards wifie."

Buffy let out a large breath she didn't know she had been holding, watching George's wide shoulders as he weaved his way from the dance area towards his wife. Suddenly feeling exposed and alone standing in the middle of the ballroom she quickly walked back to her table. Seeing Spike's chair next to hers vacant and not wanting to sit alone either, she grabbed her shawl that lay resting across the arm of her chair as well as her wine and walked towards the glass windowed doors that led to the terrace at the back of the ballroom.

She could hear the tenant's whispers and mummers as she passed them, keeping her eyes downcast and not yet ready to face greeting them without her mate at her side. Suddenly everything was too overwhelming, her chest tightening as she quickened her steps.

The cool air hit her first, making her shiver and wrap the shawl tighter around her small frame. She left the door slightly ajar behind her and stepped further onto the balcony that lead to the terrace below, welcoming the silence. The lights from the ballroom flickered behind her before she took a few more steps forward, letting the shadows of the night encase her.

Closing her eyes she basked in the vast nothingness that the balcony offered. There were no eyes here to stare at her, no questioning gazes, no murmured conversations or hushed comments. She was alone and for a fleeting moment Buffy thought herself rather sad for welcoming the silence.

For having wished for the momentary solitude.

"You'll always be alone."

Drusilla's haunting voice echoed in her head and she pushed the thoughts aside angrily, staring out into the night. She had not heard her voice in days, not since Spike had claimed her as his mate and broken the control Drusilla had over her. Buffy put the echoes of the voice down to her nervousness about the gathering and the way the tenants were acting around her. She was new to their world and no doubt they felt uneasy in her presence. Just as she was able to tell they were more than human, they too would feel that she was different.

The balcony overlooked a small garden terrace and with the fresh snow-fall they had recently had a blanket of white covered the ground, a few trees branches sticking out above the snow. A small pathway was illuminated by the fire-lit torches that lined it, their flames glowing bright in the dark.

Leaning her forearms onto to the railing in front of her Buffy didn't care how cold the snow was as it touched her skin. It reminded her of her mate and his cool touch. He always made a conscious effort to have their room warm for her, always standing near the fire before joining her in bed, warming his body in an effort to conceal the fact that he was dead.

A vampire.

"E-Elizabeth..."

Awareness tingled at the edges of her consciousness and ever so slowly she lifted her head to follow the voice that had spoken her name. The shawl covering her shoulders fell to the ground with a swoosh as she stood, arms falling weightless at her sides, her glass of wine spilling to the ground.

Heavy footfalls fell in the snow in the small gardens pathway as a man slowly trudged his way forward, limping. One arm was dangling from his side while the other reached across to hold it steady. Her eyes narrowed at the lifeless limb and followed the path of crimson that had been trailing behind in the snow in the mans wake. His clothes; what little he wore, were hanging off him in tatters, a scarring visual to see that the man clearly hadn't eaten properly in a very long time.

"Elizabeth..."

His voice was firmer, and she felt her eyes welling with tears at the sound. She shook her head, forcing back the tears that were blurring her vision. She had longed to hear that voice for years, unsure if what she was hearing was true. She had, but only faint memories and whispers of the sounds he produced.

"E-Elizab-"

The man stumbled through the snow almost lost his footing. She raced down the stone steps of the terrace to his aid within moments.

"Father!"

She didn't see the two figures patiently waiting at the end of the gardens path, gleams in their eyes. She didn't see the feral growl form across the man's face as he was denied access to the garden by a barrier that she couldn't see. She didn't hear the torchlight post being ripped from the ground or see the flaming torch being carelessly thrown into the snow. She didn't hear the windowed door above the balcony behind her open, nor did she hear the shouts of her name.

All Buffy saw was the limping figure of her father as he tried to make his way to her through the freezing snow. His hair was haggard and fell across his face in a tangled mass of knots, his face grim and dirty and covered in months worth of hair. Her fingers were trembling with joy and fear as she finally reached him, her arms encasing him in a large hug.

Her whole body was overwhelmed with the sensation that her father was finally; after years apart, standing before her.

So distracted in her thoughts she didn't hear the whizzing of metal slicing through the air or the loud roar that echoed in its wake.

"Fath-"

Her words died in her throat as something sharp and solid slammed into her gut. She tried to take in a breath, but found herself unable to do so. Arms still fastened tight around her father they fell to the ground in a thud.

She heard a woman laughing in the distance, shouts coming from behind her before the sounds of running feet punching through the snow was heard. Still struggling to breathe, her stomach on fire, she reached a tentative hand towards her fathers face. His eyes were as wide as hers, filling with tears as his lips moved to apologize to her. She tried to respond, but the only sound she could make was a muddle of gurgles as her lungs slowly filled with blood.

Hanks eyes watered the moment he tried to swallow, his throat constricting in pain from the bruises that marred his flesh. The crazed vampiress whose fingers had constricted him days earlier now sat opposite him in the small carriage he had been shoved into. He was never told where they were going or how long it would take to reach their destination, he was a mere prisoner. Held captive for their entertainment.

His body was covered in bruises and scars at all different stages of healing which were the result of constantly being beat on and punished for speaking out of turn or staring for too long. Sometimes Drusilla would punish him for things the voices in her head told her he had done, her insanity knowing no bounds.

Hank had become accustomed to her oddities, but for a creature such as she was; and one who was extremely unstable, Drusillas behaviour over the last few days had been concerning. Even now, as she rocked back and forth across from him he could hear her muttering under her breath and her words chilled him to the bone.

"I can't see her. I can't see... It's dark where she is. Kill her... Kill her for mommy!"

"For the millionth time Dru, we need her alive."

The frustrated growl that erupted from the vampire that sat next to him had Hank flinching in his seat.

Angelus; unlike his mate, was calm and collected. Hank knew from his books after his wife had been taken that Angelus was one of the most cunning vampires within the Aurelius lineage and almost always got what he wanted.

"You don't want to kill her, do you?" Drusilla's pale face tilted as she stared at her mate. "You want to hurt her... Just like you hurt me."

"Nobody knows me like you do, Dru."

What Angelus and Drusilla wanted was his daughter.

With narrowed eyes Hank glared at the floor of the carriage. He would burn in hell before he let Angelus touch his Elizabeth again.

The memory of his daughters screams filled his head and he closed his eyes, the thought too painful. For too long to remember he had been held captive in a darkened room that held no windows or natural light, just a single door. The room next to him was, on occasion, used to hold his daughter. A cruel joke constructed for Angelus's amusement.

He was kept bound and gagged whenever his daughter was in the room, unable to call out to her, unable to see her, but completely able to hear every scream and every sob that erupted from her body.

"I see such pretty fire." Drusilla's eyes gleamed with excitement before darkening, breaking Hank from his thoughts. "The sunshine won't come out so easily."

"We'll just have to go in and get her then wont we."

"The stars won't let us play tonight. Nasty William has cast us out!" Her fist collided with the bench beneath her, the cushions softening the blow, but the wood beneath still cracking.

"Oh she'll come out alright." Angelus grinned, his eyes turning gold as his hand grasped the back of the Hanks neck.

He was to be used as leverage then. Hanks eyes narrowed at the icy grip.

"That's a good daddy," Drusilla giggled, leaning forward. "Look at me dearie. Be in my eyes..."

He tried to squeeze his eyes shut, but knew his efforts would be futile for nothing could stop Drusilla's hypnosis and control.

"Be in me..."

"We'll get her back, my love."

"The young daddy is going to collect dollie for us! The stars have arranged a wonderful party..."

"Yes, ol' Willie is having a gathering."

"We're not invited." Her eyes narrowed, glaring at Hank as if it was all his fault. "Bad doggy!"

"Dru!" Angelus tried to stop her, but she had already slammed her fist into Hanks shoulder, the sound of bone dislocating echoing in the small carriage.

"He tries to bring the sunshine with him. Not yours to take! I can't see her. I can't see..."

Tears filled her eyes as she slumped back into her chair.

Hank collapsed back into his chair, the dislocated limb falling lifelessly to his side, body still swaying under the complete control of the crazed vampiress in front of him.

"We'll bring her outside. She won't be able to stay away from her father." Angelus slipped onto the cushioned seat next to his mate and let her whimper against him. "She'll come to us."

The carriage came to an abrupt stop a few minutes later signalling that they had arrived at the turning road that would lead to Spike's estate. Angelus was glad that Drusilla had calmed from her earlier outburst, holding out his arm for her to take as she descended the two steps from the carriage and into the snow. Her head tilting to the side as she stared off into the darkness, her eyes brimming with delight at a sight he couldn't see.

"Keep watch." He murmured to his guard holding the reins to the horses on the carriage.

"The flames are so pretty at night..." Drusilla hummed as she walked, fingers twitching and curling as she effortlessly called to her enthralled captive. "They dance, and the fire licks like a kitten." She let out small purrs, her tiny feet crunching through the snow. "Here kitty kitty..." Her lips kissed the night air and she giggled, turning to motion Angelus to follow.

"What do you see princess?"

"A golden kitten hiding in the dark." Her eyes were wide with excitement as she whispered, shoulders creeping up as they walked the pathway to the castle, slipping between the trees to sneak behind the castle and around to a small gardened area.

"We don't need another cat, you killed the last one." Angelus groaned, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back towards the castle.

He could hear the festivities of the gathering inside the castle walls and felt a buzz of excitement run through him, his demon itching to be let loose to run riot. There were guards stationed at each entry point as they slipped past the front gate, his eyes roaming the vast windows and doors looking for the best vantage point to sneak in unnoticed.

"You like our little songs, don't you dollie? Miss Edith always liked them, right from the beginning."

"You killed Miss Edith, Dru."

"You'll always be alone."

"I can't be alone with you around." Angelus shook his head, eyes rolling as he moved to step around her, but the arm that shot out across his chest jolted him still.

"Little ripples of sunshine in the air." Drusilla hissed, holding her hand up and pushing against an invisible barrier.

"Fucking witches!" Angelus growled low, eyes narrowing.

They were standing at the beginning of a pathway, a single post holding a flaming torch to his left. The giant glass windows that lined the wall of the castle were illuminated by the bright candlelight within. He could see the shadows and silhouettes of the castles patrons and with a frustrated growl his fist punched the invisible barrier.

"We're so close! It's right fucking there!"

"Little golden kitten hiding all alone in the dark."

Drusilla pushed the tree branches that hid the path from view and his eyes lit up.

He couldn't believe it.

There she was.

Little Buffy was outside and alone, standing on a small balcony overlooking the garden below her.

This was too perfect.

"Be a good daddy and bring the little dollie to mommy."

Drusilla was gripping Hank by the shoulders, her fingernails digging in deep to his flesh as she locked eyes once more, solidifying her thrall. Angelus bounced on the balls of his feet in anticipation as Hank slowly, but surely stumbled through the snow and through the invisible barrier.

His first few steps through the snow were on shaky feet, body trembling from the cold. His head seemed to drop forward, body stiffening before shaking it from side to side.

"No! You promised me!" Drusilla hissed at the night sky, watching Hank turn back towards them, a small grin forming on his face. "You're not playing by the rules! Bad daddy!"

Angelus growled as Hank turned back around and started walking faster, his voice rasping out into the night.

"No! You're supposed to bring her to me!" Punching the invisible barrier did nothing but enrage him further.

"The stars lied to me."

"Fuck the stars, Dru." Angelus growled, ripping the torch post from the ground next to them. "If I can't have her..." he threw the flaming torch from its top, the flame fizzing out in the snow with a hiss. "No one will!"

"Oh the screams, it's like star music. Kill her for princess? Do it!"

With narrowed eyes Angelus hurled the post through the air and straight through the barrier just as Spike came rushing out of the large windowed doors and onto the balcony.

With laughter bursting from his mouth, Angelus grinned.

"Couldn't have time that better."

"BUFFY!"

"Would love to stay and chat, but I've got places to be, people to kill. See you around Willie!" Angelus laughed, wrapping an arm around his giggling mate before pulling her into the darkness.

"Spike no! The barrier! It won't let you leave!" Giles shouted, just before Spike could charge forward.

"Ye two wae me. We'll see how that baw heided dolt is laughing when I'm finished wae him."

Deorsa shook his head, bringing his brachen demon forward and grinning through the spikes that covered his face. Oz was shedding his clothing, dropping it carelessly into the snow, eyes closed as he called his wolf forward. There was no time for modesty, just the wolf. He dropped into the snow with a groan, bones cracking as his demon surged to the surface to take control.

He would pay for forcing the change so quickly upon himself later, but for now he needed to give chase.

"Make it hurt." Spike growled, his own demon rushing to the surface as he nodded for Oz to follow Deorsa.

With a howl Oz ducked his shoulders and pushed off from the snow, nose catching the scent of the two vampires that were fleeing the castle grounds.

"N-no. Sweetheart, look at me." Spike fell to Buffy's side, his hands replacing Giles own under her head. "C'mon, luv." His hands were shaking as he wiped the hair from her face.

"It's not good."

His eyes filled with tears at Giles words, already knowing how severe the extent of her wounds were. He could hear the crunching of footfalls through the snow as Deorsa and his men gave chase to Angelus and Drusilla, but the one sound that was deafening was the sound of Buffy's gurgling as she slowly bled out in his arms. He cast his eyes southwards, face dropping at the sight of the pole that was pierced through her body.

"They'll no doubt be running back to their sanctuary." Giles was kneeling in the snow next to him.

"Sp-"

"Hush now, luv." Tears dropped from his eyes down to his cheeks and to the snow beneath.

Each drop of blood that slipped from her body felt like a gut wrenching bunch to his body as if it was his own. Their mated connection allowed him to feel every ounce and every agonizing second of her pain and it had him frozen in place. He felt ill looking at her, knowing that there was nothing that he could do to stop her bleeding.

His demon howled inside.

He couldn't lose her.

"No..."

"Sweetheart..."

The strength of her answer to the question he had yet to ask shocked him. She didn't want to be turned. She didn't want to be a vampire.

"N-."

The pole that pierced through her body was effecting her lungs, her breathing raspy and shallow and Spike motioned for her not to talk. If it weren't for the man who had been hit first, he had no doubt in his mind that she would have been killed instantly.

The man was taller than Buffy and therefore the pole had pierced through his stomach, not anywhere near his heart, but still managed to hit vital organs. Spike could hear his heart-rate slowing.

It wouldn't be long now.

"My dear friend..." Giles whispered, doing his best to slow the bleeding with an incantation, his hands pushing down on Hanks wounds to stem the bleeding. "Whatever have they done to you?"

"Hank? Her father?" Spike's eyes widened, taking a second glance at the thinly framed man.

"Yes."

"N-not like this." Hank wasn't listening to either of them, his eyes solely focused on his daughters. Buffy's breaths were coming in short gasps, bloodstains on her lips. She coughed, blood spattering onto his face. "My Elizabeth..."

Hank had known instantly upon seeing him who Spike was. Searching his face he was surprised to find a matching set of tears rolling down his cheeks. The vampire was as worried about Elizabeth as he was.

He searched his daughter's features in alarm. He could feel the warmth of her skin upon his and calmed, but when Spike brushed the hair from her face it moved it from her neck and there were scars there. Bite marks.

She was mated.

Glancing up from his sideways position he saw the scars of a mating bite on Spike's neck in the shape of human teeth and closed his eyes in sorrow.

They had claimed each other.

"You..."

Hank knew what those marks meant. He knew what was to come next and had held on to hope for so long, wishing that the prophecy wasn't about his Elizabeth.

But it was.

He had a task to perform.

"Rupert you have to help her. S-she's... I can'-."

"I don't know what else to do. I-If we remove the spear they'll bleed out. The prophecy-"

"I refuse to believe that this is how she ends!" Spike roared, hands shaking as he struggled to get a hold of his emotions. His fingers gripped Buffy's, squeezing them tight, getting no response in return.

With as hurried movements as he was capable of, Hank pushed the bloodied hair from his daughters face.

"Not like this." Whispering again, he turned his head to meet the eyes of one of his oldest friends.

"Sorry Ripper."

"Oh no you don't! You don't get to tap out on me now. Not after all these years!" Giles saw the glint in Hank's eyes.

"Revelare quod est maxime sacris mihi." With his fingers already dripping in blood, Hank traced a symbol on his daughters forehead. "S-sanguis ut sanguis. Ego vocare ad tibi. Revelare."

Reveal that which is most sacred to me. Blood to blood. I call to thee. Reveal.

Hanks eyes widened in fear when nothing happened, glancing upwards to Giles eyes before meeting Spikes. He pulled the hand that was entwined with the fingers of his daughters forwards and traced the same symbol on the top of Spike's hand.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Spike tried to snatch his hand away.

"Spike you should-"

"Ego vocare ad tibi. Revelare!"

Blood to blood. I call to thee. Reveal.

There was a glowing green light above them and then suddenly a small brown satchel fell to the snow with a thud. Motioning as best he could with his eyes and hands, Hank gestured to open the small bag.

"Fath-"

"Rupert!"

Buffy sputtered, more blood spilling from her mouth as she tried to form a word.

Giles turned the bag upside down and watched the contents spill into the snow, eyes searching for anything that could be of use. The enchantment that Hank had used to conceal the bag was old magic, dark magic, and one that could only be unlocked by the blood of family.

"Buffy, sweetheart stay with me. Please...please don't leave."

"I-I don't know what I'm looking for!" Giles fingers were going numb from sifting through the items in the snow, hands shaking with adrenaline.

"Amara..."

"You bloody devil!"

Giles eyes lit up with recognition and knew immediately what he was searching for in the snow. The golden band glistened against the torchlight behind them, calling out to him. The green gem encased in the gold band was warm to the touch and Giles moved to slip it onto his friend's finger.

"No!"

"But-"

"Buffy? No sweetheart, c'mon wake up! Buffy!"

Hank shakily pushed Spike's hands aside as he pulled his daughter's fingers to his own and slipped the ring onto her finger."T-take it out."

"She'll-"

"Do as he says." Giles whispered solemnly, knowing the sacrifice that Hank was making. Holding the form of his friend still, Spike moved to pull the pole from their joined bodies.

Giles helped ease Hank down to lie in the snow, his head cradled in his knees. Buffy's golden dress was a mass of bloodied marks, her abdomen covered in red. Spike laid her gently on the snow, his hands running up and down her body, eyes glancing at the ring on her finger and the bloodied symbol on her forehead and his hand.

What had Hank done to them?

Through his connection with Buffy he could feel her heartbeat slowly steadying, the rhythm beating even. Blood no longer pooled underneath her as if her wound was healing itself. His hands pushed down onto the area where her chest had moments ago held a gaping hole through it and found no wound there.

"Buffy?"

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up with a gasp, her hands rushing to her chest and abdomen. Her eyes were wide as she recalled the memory of the last few moments before turning in the snow to see the fallen form of her father.

"No..."

"I'm so sorry..."

"No!" Her features crumbled under Giles words, tears falling falling to the ground as she crawled through the snow to reach them. She let out a sob, leaning down, her father's eyes clouded and empty.

"Sweetheart..."

The scream that erupted from her had Spike pulling her into his arms. She screamed until she couldn't scream any longer and then she cried. Huge sobs that wracked her entire body while Spike gently rocked her, whispering small comforts into her ear that did nothing to ease the pain of her loss.

She felt arms embrace her from behind and the vibrations of a voice against her ear as it offered soothing comforts in sympathy. She didn't hear a word of what was spoken, her eyes tear-filled and unwavering as she stared at the sight in front of her. Her knees buckled, body threatening to fall to the icy snow covered ground from the weight of her sorrow, but the arms around her held steadfast.

Tears fell freely down her cheeks as she shook her head, wishing that what she was seeing was simply a terrible dream and that when she opened her eyes her father would still be alive. Her eyes opened and a sob escaped her. He was still gone. She brought her trembling hands to her face, her devastation striking her whole body. She didn't see the look on either of Giles or Spike's faces as they stared at her with concern and worry, but she felt the weight of their silence.

Spike eased his hands from her body and bent towards the snow while Buffy watched on with watery eyes as he started gathering discarded items from the ground that had been strewn all over. The brown satchel in which the items had fallen from; the one that Spike was hastily shoving things back into, looked to be brand new. The leather was so pristine in condition with not one mark or telltale bend or blemish in its folds to show that it had ever been used. She didn't know where the bag had come from or how long it had been there, but judging from the two looks of the men in front of her it wasn't either of theirs.

Her eyes drifted towards her father's body again.

His eye's cold and distant.

Her vision blurred as Giles delicately began lifting the frail and broken form of her father into his arms, her eyes instantly falling to the blood-stained blanket of white beneath him. All around her the snow was marred with patches of blood in the shape of bodies and she was struck with a memory. She recalled a time in her life when everything had been simple, surrounded by two loving parents, she couldn't have been more than four years old, but her mother and father were teaching her how to make snow angels. It was winter and they had their arms and legs brushing out against the fresh powder as they lay in the snow to create an image.

Buffy's face was motionless as Giles started walking, crimson drops falling from her father's body into the snow beneath him. Spike touched her lower back, satchel hung over one shoulder as he nudged her forward to follow, face flinching when he realized what she was staring at and wishing that they had walked ahead.

"Oh my god!"

"Is she ok?"

"There's so much blood...."

"Is he dead?"

"What happened?"

Buffy couldn't recall the walk from the snow up the short pathway back into the warmth of the castle, but the gasps and worried shouts that came from the tenants as soon as they walked through the large windowed doors only echoed in the background of her mind. Just like being in a deep sleep, the voices around her seemed to fade in and out in a clouded haze of incoherent murmurs.

She could feel her mates eyes on her, watching intently with concern etched on his face as he flooded her senses with his emotions and worry. She furrowed her brows, eyes brimming with tears as she pushed him out of her mind before slamming their connection shut.

"Give the lassie some room tae breathe."

Aileen's worried voice reached her just as Spike touched her arm causing her to flinch at the unexpected contact. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings by closing their link, but she needed time to process her own thoughts before she added his to the mix. How could she handle his emotions when she didn't even have a hold of her own? She briefly met his gaze before stepping closer to Giles and form of her father that he still held in his arms.

He looked so tiny. His face was gaunt, cheek bones slightly protruding, a defining attribution to the severe malnutrition he had clearly suffered. His hair was a matted mess, his beard scruffy, skin dirty as if he hadn't properly bathed in a while and his eyes...

Oh god!

His clouded eyes were still open, empty and lifeless.

Buffy let out a small hiccup, reaching forward to close his lids with shaky hands.

"Ceannard, you need tae calm your tenants before all hell breaks loose!"

"Angelus and Drusilla..."

Buffy flinched at their names.

"Take her upstairs. I'll be righ' behind you, luv."

"I-I'll help w-with Buffy." Tara stammered, already gently taking Buffy's arm through hers.

"Me too. Come on sweetie, let's get you cleaned up." Willow spoke softly, the free arm that wasn't cradling her child slipping around Buffy's.

"My father...."

"I'll take him to the library." Giles murmured, flinching when Buffy shouted.

"No!"

"Pet?"

"I-"

"Perhaps, given the current circumstances it would be best if I take him to Buffy's old room?"

Spike nodded his agreement, watching Buffy as she walked behind him, her eyes downcast and staring again at the small droplets of blood that were still dripping from her father's body.

"Christ..."

"Mo chridhe is still-"

"Oz and a few of the others as well....No one leaves until sun up."

"Ye best explain yerself then, before they all start fleein'. If it's nae safe out ye need to tell them why."

"Right."

Buffy could hear the whispered voice of her mate as she walked away, eyes watching the small red drops falling onto the marble floor of the ballroom as they walked. She hadn't seen Willow or Tara rush over when they had first entered the ballroom, but was glad they were with her. They did their best to support her walking up the steps of the castle, her body suddenly overcome with a crippling weakness, limbs not cooperating with her minds demands. The adrenaline from the event was running its course, leaving her weak and exhausted in its wake.

"C'mon sweetie, just a few more steps."

"I'll put him on the bed." Giles whispered, breaking the silence moments later when they reached the hallway that held the openings to the bedrooms.

"He's cold..."

She was met with silence, the gazes of those she had come to call family all staring at her with utter sadness in their eyes. Her fingers were lifting the stray pieces of hair that had fallen across her fathers forehead, her lip trembling as she fought off her tears.

"I-I'll warm a fire?"

Buffy nodded, a small smile gracing her features as Giles exhaled in relief, unsure if his suggestion had been appropriate. After all, a fire would do little for the deceased man in his arms.

Standing in the darkened hallway she watched Giles walk away, every step he took taking her father further from her and in that moment she felt more adrift than she ever had before.

A short while ago she had heard her fathers voice crying out to her in the night, a sound she had only heard in her dreams. He was there. He was alive! He had wrapped his arms around her in a hug that had instantly erased any doubts and fears that she'd had over the evening, for there was nothing that a hug from your father couldn't fix.

She had found her comfort, her home again.

And Angelus had taken it all away from her.

She felt numb.

Adrift.

Floating in a sea of darkness with nothing to hold onto to keep her from sinking into an empty abyss.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"You'll always be alone."

"This way sweetie."

Willow's voice echoed from down the hall as she ducked into a room. Buffy let Tara direct her down the familiar hallway and through the doors of the room she shared with Spike. The next few minutes passed in a blur as she was sat on the edge of the bed left to watch with unfocused eyes as the two witches flurried about with tasks in front of her.

Little baby Oliver gurgled behind her on the bed and she turned to see him sandwiched between two pillows so he wouldn't roll away. Buffy took the time to take in her own appearance while the witches worked and a fresh onslaught of tears flooded her. Her once golden gown was now covered and stained with red. The material was torn in numerous places, but the most damage having been made by the post that had ripped through her body. Her fingers touched the tender flesh of her chest, stomach tightening at the thought that she should be dead right now, laying cold and gone in the room down the hall with her father. Her eyes fell down to her hands and her blood stained fingers, eyes catching sight of the gold band wrapped around her pointer finger, a green gem set beneath it's entwined surface.

What are you?

Her hands were taken by both Tara and Willow as they helped her stand from the bed, noticing for the first time that a fire had been lit and a bathing tub set opposite it. She allowed them to slip the sodden dress from her body, letting it fall to the ground with a slop. A fresh set of goosebumps rose across her skin, not having realized how cold and wet her gown had been. There was steam rising from the tub, indicating the two witches had used their magic to warm it and she happily stepped into the hot water.

"What happened tonight?" Willow asked, brows furrowed as she watched Buffy's back dip beneath the water as she descended into the tub.

"Drusilla and Angelus got through the barrier." Spike spoke from the doorway noticing Buffy flinch when he said their names.

Stepping into the room he started unbuckling his jacket and belts, uncaring as he tossed them to the ground.

"What? How?"

"That shouldn't have been possible. We made sure of it!"

"They didn't get in, per se, but the sod threw something through the barrier." Spike rephrased, eyes lingering on Buffy as she stared at the hand that lay gripping the side of the tub, golden ring glinting in the fire that she was opposite.

It was unlike her to be so silent and now that she had shut him out from their connection he had no way of knowing what she was thinking or feeling. He knew she was barely hanging on by a thread, the brief glimpses he had seen earlier had her jumping from one extreme thought to the next and it worried him.

"The m-man Giles brought in... that was h-her f-father?"

"Held captive by Angelus and Drusilla for god knows how long."

Buffy's hand slipped back into the water with a slosh, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

"W-we should leave you two alone..."

"I'll bring something by in a little bit to help her sleep." Willow whispered, having already picked up her child from the bed.

"Thank you." Spike held their gaze, his words sincere and eyes full of worry for his mate.

The witches nodded, casting a glance to the woman crying her heart out in the tub by the fire as they exited the room. Spike closed the door behind them and continued to strip the clothes from his body, moving to the tub and stepping in to sit behind his mate. She collapsed against his chest as his arms wrapped around her, hugging her in a tight embrace.

"I'm here, luv."

"I'm so sorry."

"I've got you, pet."

He whispered words of comfort to her, covering her in kisses as his arms every so often tightened their hold to let her know he was there for her. After a while her tears seemed to ease with only the occasional sniffle, her face left red and blotchy from her crying. Spike started running his hands down her arms and legs, fingers brushing off the blood that marred her skin. He lifted her in the tub, turning her around so she sat in his lap, kissing her lips chastely before wiping the dried blood from her face where she had coughed it up. Her eyes remained distant the whole time as he washed the blood from her skin, face an empty shell of the woman who had danced earlier that evening without a care in the world.

Once she was clean he quickly dried himself off before wrapping Buffy in her nightgown and bringing her to stand in front of the fire. She swayed on her feet and he helped her into his chair. Pulling her feet up off the ground, she curled in on herself, the nightgown tucked over her knees as she moved to lay her head on the material of the chairs back.

"Buffy-"

There was a knock on his door and he quickly grabbed the pants he had worn earlier that day before dressing for the gathering. He met the grimacing face of Deorsa when he finally opened the door. After seeing the state his friend was in he raised one eyebrow, cast a glance behind him and stepped from the room, closing closing the door behind him. Buffy didn't need to see anymore blood tonight.

"Ceannard... How is the lass?"

"Not good. She... jus' tell me what happened."

"Aye well, we gave chase ye ken. They ran straight tae the road and tried tae get intae a carriage, but we caught up. There was a fight, little Benji didnae make it, but I got a good swing at the baw heided dolt for his doings. I tell ye, that wolf is sure good in a fight!"

"Are they dead?"

"Ehhh no."

"Did they escape?"

"Aye-"

"Fuck!"

"Aye, hang on a minute, I'm nae finished yet! Ye see, we got in a few good licks, that dolt sure does like talking oot his fanny flaps. Lying wee bugger! After Benji... I knew we didnae have enough strength tae take the two of them so we let them escape, didnae make it easy on them though."

"You followed them?"

"Aye!" Deorsa smiled, talking animatedly with his hands, still charged up from the fight. "They're in the village, hiding in a wee tavern."

"Daybreak will be soon."

"It will be safe for the tenants tae leave then, but I would like tae stay and help, ye ken."

"You've done enough, Deorsa-"

"Aye, well it's nae finished yet."

Spike knew better than to argue with a brachen demon about such matters and simply nodded his head in answer. He watched Deorsa tip his head in a small gesture of a bow before taking his leave, leaving Spike to stand alone in the darkened hallway. He could hear the chattering of his tenants below in the ballroom, all worried about the threat that lay outside his walls and the events that had transpired earlier. He knew they were scared and wanted answers, but he had none to give.

His demon was fretting within, feeling the turmoil its mate was going through and unable to ease her through their connection. Buffy had put up a wall, shut him out and barely spoken since he had pulled her up from the snow. Stepping back into his room he saw that the cause of his worry had not moved from her seat, legs still curled beneath her on the chair, eyes staring emptily at the fire.

"Pet? Would you like to lay down?"

Spike set about getting their bed ready, gathering Buffy's ruined gown from the flood and placing it in a corner of the room out of sight, she needed no reminders of the evening. As he pulled down the sheets and placed the pillows back at the head of the bed his mind was already formulating a plan.

"Buffy?"

Once daylight broke, Angelus and Drusilla would be stuck in the tavern in which they were hiding until the sun set on the next day. He knew that they would be gone the moment darkness came and Deorsa knew it just as well. Spike had known Deorsa for long enough to know that if there was ever a need for a fight that his hand would always be the first up to offer his services.

Buffy didn't speak a word as Spike helped her up from the chair, tucking his arms under her knees and back as he carried her to the bed. As soon as he placed her against the soft pillows she curled in on herself, face crumbling as a fresh onslaught of tears streaked down her face.

Crawling in behind her fully clothed Spikes eyes narrowed, Angelus would die tomorrow for the suffering he had caused her.

Willow knocked on the door a short time later, whispering to Spike as she entered. He asked about Oz, to which she explained that he had sustained a few minor injuries in the fight with Angelus and Drusilla, but was now asleep in bed.

Buffy had refused to take any powders or drinks offered to her, eyes narrowing in defiance at the suggestion. She didn't want to take anything that would put her to sleep or want her body to succumb to the clouded haze and heavy limbs that she knew the herbs would bring. Spike had tried his best to get her to take it as her tears still fell, knowing the exhaustion she was feeling, but unable to succumb to sleep. Buffy had shaken her head again, pushing away the mug in which he offered her and curled back in on herself. He thanked Willow for the powders, placing the glass and remainder of the herbs at the end of their bed within reach if Buffy should change her mind, but knew with her stubbornness that that was unlikely to happen.

Spike was worried about her. Buffy could tell from his constant glances and small sighs, but was glad that he had finally fallen asleep a short while ago. Her mind, however, wouldn't switch off. She kept running the evening's events through her head over and over again trying to see if she could have done things differently.

If she had only moved faster or looked up sooner things could have been different.

Her thoughts were mere fantasies, knowing deep down that nothing she did or could have done would ever change the outcome.

Her father was still dead.

She couldn't sleep, limbs restless as she tossed and turned in bed, but careful not to wake her mate who slept silently beside her. She wasn't ready to face him yet. She didn't want to see the sympathy in his eyes or more of the worried glances he had sent her since it had happened.

Buffy wanted to scream her rage to the heavens for what had been taken from her. She wanted to punch and kick anything that came within arms reach. She wanted to cry, but her eyes were sore and stinging from the buckets of tears that she had already shed. She wanted her father to wrap his arms around her just one last time.

Above all else, she wanted someone to take away her pain. She would do anything to alleviate the utter devastation and emptiness she was feeling right now.

With a tight chest, Buffy's feet slipped her feet onto the cool floor, silently making her way to the small chest in the corner of the room that her clothes were in. Her fingers grasped onto the cool burgundy leather of the outfit she was searching for, pulling it up and over her legs and hips before whispering her command into the darkness.

"Induendum vestes."

The suit tightened itself around her body within moments.

She had made up her mind the second she had caught a glimpse of Angelus and Drusilla's fleeing backs as they ran from the scene, her vision skewed and sideways as she fell to the snow.

If she survived, Angelus and Drusilla would suffer a fate worse than death.

Her eyes drifted to the sleeping form of her mate and Buffy made the decision to put on a gown over the top of her suit. Her hair was a matted mess, the gowns clasps catching in the tangled knots as the skirts fell to the floor. She pulled her hair free, slipping her arms through the long sleeves and pulling at the wrists to cover the leather that was exposed.

By putting the gown over her fighting gear she drew less attention to herself which would ultimately allow to her to hopefully slip away unnoticed. She knew the others were worried about her and knew Spike could feel her thoughts jumping from one extreme to the next which is why she had closed their link. Her decision had already been made.

Angelus needed to die and she was going to be the one to do it.

As if the suit knew what her mind commanded, the leather bindings around her fingers began to unwind, the gloves opening and blending back into the leather around her arms. At first glance it looked as if her arms were simply covered by the material of her gown, but she knew better.

With the suit on she felt safe, protected... guarded.

Buffy's features changed, her mouth forming a determined line. She was not going to sit around idle waiting for Angelus to attack again.

No.

She was once and for all going to end his existence and that of his insane mate.

Spike began to stir, his body turning in the bed to seek out her warmth. His arms grabbed two handfuls of the pillows she had been pressed against, nuzzling his head into them while breathing in her scent. A small smile graced her face before tears came to her eyes.

This was not his fight.

It was hers.

Angelus and Drusilla had taken everything from her, leaving her with nothing left in this world to hold onto. Everything that she had cherished had been burnt to the ground, while everyone she had ever loved had been killed or taken before her eyes.

Everyone she loved died because of her.

She couldn't ask the people; the people she called family, to fight her battles for her.

"No more death."

She whispered, walking into the dimly lit hallway and silently closing the door behind her. She found herself pausing at the door to the room her father was in a few steps late, her fingers shaking above the handle in hesitation.

Tears instantly begun falling down her cheeks when her eyes caught site of her father's body. He was in the center of the bed, lying with his arms folded neatly across his chest. He was so thin. Frail. Broken.

"I'm so sorry..."

A small sob escaped her, bending to sit on the bed next to him. Her small hand came to rest over his cool fingers as her eyes looked over his body. Angelus and Drusilla had destroyed any and all parts of him that they could see. He was a mere echo of the man who had been her father. His arms were covered in bite marks and bruises, his neck purple and blue. Markings she recognized as fingers. He had been strangled. His limb; she knew without looking, would be covered in scars of wounds old healing.

"Why did you give it to me?" Slipping the gold band from her finger as she cried, Buffy's face crumbled. "Why didn't you use it on yourself?"

Placing the gold ring on one of his figures she waited with wide eyes for a miracle to happen. When nothing happened she crumbled into a fresh set of tears, her head falling against the two hands that lay across his chest. Buffy could feel the ribs poking through his chest, his body so frail and malnourished.

His arms would never again wrap her in his warm embrace.

His breath would never again whisper her name.

"Why couldn't it have been me?"

She lay curled up against his body, hearing the faint footsteps of someone walking in the hallway moments later. The footfalls were light, not a male presence and she closed her eyes, shoulders tense as she waited for the person to pass by the door.

"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth..."

Aileen's soft whispered voice echoed down the hallway as she sang, rocking the tiny babe in her arms back and forth. The air in the hallway was chilly and she dared not take the restless bairne back into her own room, not with Deorsa and her other children fast asleep. Her eyes caught sight of the distant glow of a fire from within the crack of an open doorway and made her way towards it.

"Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan..."

Seeing Buffy curled up against the deceased form of her father stopped Aileen in her steps, eyes slightly startled at the site.

"It's nae good tae sleep above the covers lass."

Aileen spoke after a few moments, eyes softening after Buffy's tear streaked face met her own.

"I needed to see him. He-"

"I ken ye. I dinnae know what I'd do if mo chridhe ever... I ken ye." She nodded her understanding and slipped the blanket from her shoulders, moving to drop it over Buffy's form.

"No! You need it more than I do."

"I'm nae leaving ye alone in this state lassie. I'll warm the fire."

Buffy sat up when she saw Aileen bending down, arms outstretched and waiting for her to take the child from her arms. Her eyes were wide with alarm when Aileen stepped away, muscles relaxing only when she saw that she was moving towards the fireplace to put a few more logs in it.

"My mother used tae sing tae me as a wee bairne when I couldnae sleep. It's the rocking motion tae, I think that relaxes them so." She took her child from Buffy's arms a few moments late, smiling as she ran a gentle hand through the soft red curls on her head.

"My father used to read to me..."

"Well I dinnae have any books on me, but I dinnae mind singing if it will help ye..."

"What do you sing about? I don't understand your-"

"Gaelic... Mo chridhe and I speak gaelic."

"What does mo chridhe mean?" Buffy did her best to pronounce the words.

"My love..."

"It's a beautiful language."

" 'Tis." Aileen agreed, rocking from side to side in an effort to calm the babe in her arms whose eyes were wide open. "The song you heard is about a mhaighdean, eh... a maiden. Noble and fair is she." Her eyes drifted down to her child, a wistful smile forming on her face.

"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth
Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan
Ar righinn oig, fas as faic
Do thir, dileas fhein
A ghrian a's a ghealaich, stuir sinn
Gu uair ar cliu s ar gloire
Naoidhean bhig, ar righinn og
Mhaighdean uashaill bhan..."

Little Baby Hear My Voice
I'm Beside You O Maiden Fair
Our Young Lady Grow And See
Your Land Your Own Faithful Land
Sun And Moon Guide Us
To The Hour Of Our Glory And Honour
Little Baby Our Young Lady

Buffy tried to keep her eyes open as Aileen sang, knowing that daylight wasn't far away and that she needed to go, but the soft tones of her voice as it echoed off the walls of the room coupled with the crackling from the fire as the logs burned pulled her into a calm and deep slumber.

Aileen stroked the soft red curls on her child's head, smiling as her defiant little eyes began to drift lower and lower. She sat in the chair next to the fire, eyes casting a glance at Buffy who was curled up in the blanket on the bed, her hand touching the shoulder of her deceased father.

"Rest now my wee mhaighdean."

In the dark barely-lit library, Giles sat with sad eyes staring at the items strewn across his desk. The brown satchel his friend had called to him through blood magic rest in the center of the mess.

Lifting his glass to his lips a lone tear fell from his eyes.

"To you, my dear friend."

Half of his bottle was gone, the drink doing little to ease the pain and constriction he felt within his chest. He hadn't bothered to change clothes after leaving Hank on the bed, body still covered in the blood from the event. Before him on his desk, lay the last remnants of a secret extremely well hidden. A secret which Hank and protected with his life and Giles was determined to see that whatever the items were, he too would see that they never got into the wrong hands.

Along with the ring, which Giles knew to be on Buffy's finger, was a bundle or parchments and small vials. The bag held other knick-knack's which looked to be of little value to him, but he would have to ask Buffy in the morning if she recognized anything.

"That poor girl..."

His eyes closed, remembering the scream that had torn out from Buffy's lips when she realized her father was gone. No child should ever have to watch a parent die.

Especially a death like Hanks.

Sometimes the world was cruel.