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Primal
by Kari Mouke
may contain m/m/f/f so if that isn't your thing, please don't read

Buffy left the Bronze feeling a million miles away from pretty. What was it about Angel that sucked the confidence right out of her? It wasn’t the vamp in him. She went up against vamps every night. Dust. No problem. His age maybe? Did the many years of experience he’d had make her feel inadequate? Just a bumbling youth?

“Nah,” she mumbled as she kicked at an imaginary vampire, twirling through the air as she did so. If age was the problem then Spike would have already found a way to take her out. She ran and jumped over a tombstone, coming down in a summersault, finishing with one leg stretched out, elbow bent, stake in hand. It was a cool move. Shame there was no one here to see it. Her mind jumped back to the bleached menace. Spike didn’t make her feel inadequate. Nope. In fact, she felt fully capable of kicking his very British, very cute ass.

Buffy stopped and forced herself to shake that thought off like a wet dog. Thinking of any part of the evil undead as cute was definitely of the bad. What had gotten into her? Stupid Angel. This was all his fault for making her feel like… Well like less of a woman, or girl, or whatever. She remembered at that moment that she was supposed to be heading home and commenced to do so.

She arrived at Revello drive to find herself alone, as usual. Her mom must still be at the gallery. She headed upstairs unhindered by things like ‘how was your day’ and ‘are you hungry’. She walked into the bathroom and leaned against the shut door. Asylum. She ran a steamy bath with lots of fragrant bubbles. While she waited for the tub to fill she took off her dirt stained clothes. Ugh. Was that blood? She stood then, looking into the mirror. Who was she when she was naked? Stripped bare. Was it the Slayer? Was it Buffy? Was she even a person at all, or was she just a tool of the Council? A killing machine and nothing more.

Angel watched Buffy leave the nightclub in utter confusion. Was it something he’d done? Peripherally, he was aware of the beautiful brunette babbling like so much static at his elbow. It couldn’t be because of her could it? Was Buffy jealous? He didn’t understand jealous women. Darla and Dru had never been jealous, at least not in any way that affected him. If they had a problem with another woman, or man, they simply ripped their head off. Problem solved. Angel glanced at Cordelia. Still here. He supposed it was wrong to think of Buffy ripping the cheerleader’s head off. He made his excuses and left.

Darla was gone now, the disloyal bitch. Good riddance. Not Drusilla. He was painfully aware of just how not gone Dru was. She was in his blood, and her current presence in Sunnydale was wreaking havoc on his senses. He could smell her wherever he went almost as if she were purposefully leaving a scent trail for him. When he slept he dreamed of her, and when he awoke he woke with the taste of her in his mouth.

He really should go see Spike, talk him into leaving. He could play on the younger vampire’s insecurities. Now there was a jealous vampire! Angel couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face as memories of torturing Spike over the years rushed in. When would that boy realize that Drusilla belonged to her sire? Always had. Always would.

Angel walked into his lonely apartment and looked around. What did this place say about him? Angel. Angelus. Man. Demon. Dru’s sire. Buffy’s boyfriend. He gave a bitter laugh at that thought. Someone as old and jaded as he was had no right to the title of boyfriend to a teenage girl.

He stripped his clothing off and slipped into his red satin sheets. Red. Blood. Existential crises meant nothing when it came to blood. Maybe that was what he really was. Just so much blood and nothing more.

Drusilla leaned out one of the only un-boarded windows in the factory. Angel had been out tonight. His scent a gift from the wind itself. It was a lovely gift, and she would be a naughty girl indeed to not appreciate it, but she wanted so much more. She wanted the embrace of her sire. She loved the way he enveloped her. His size made her feel safe. The potential in his body thrilled her like no others. And the blood. Oh, the blood. Sire’s blood – there was nothing else like it in all the world. She felt her face shift, and she ran her tongue over her sharp fangs. If she concentrated very carefully, she could taste her sire in her own blood.

She looked down at the blue lines running underneath her skin. She wondered if the fairies stole the oxygen? Sucked it up like the greedy little tweedles they were. Taking the beautiful red fluid and turning it into a cold, cold blue. She’d tried to open all of her veins once, freeing them, letting them run red. It had made Spike very cross with her. He hadn’t let her out of his sight for months. She adored her dear boy, but oftentimes she found his presence smothering.

Spike wanted her to be his everything. She was his sire. Why couldn’t that be enough? Everything. How could she possibly be his everything when all she was belonged to Angelus?

“How can you belong to someone who doesn’t exist?” Miss Edith asked snidely.

Dru looked hatefully at the doll. Miss Edith was often snide of late. “He does exist. He’s trapped. Trapped by guilt. By conscience. It’s wrong. All wrong…” Dru moaned as she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.

Dru growled and took off her shawl. She picked Miss Edith up and began to wrap her tightly, like a mummy. “I’m not wrong. Not wrong! You’re wrong!” Dru accused the doll as she bound it tighter and tighter in the hopes that if she bound it tight enough it would cease to speak. She tossed the doll in an old trunk, slammed down the lid, and sat down upon it.

She rocked back and fort as she tried to dismiss the disturbing words of the porcelain miscreant. “Not wrong. I’m not wrong.”

“What are you then?” Miss Edith’s voice carried itself up through the layers of shawl and through the thick cedar of the trunk.

Dru did not answer, but the question resounded in the room, echoing throughout her crazed mind. Crazed. Maybe that was all she was and nothing more.

Spike found himself watching the Slayer from a distance as she mock fought and tumbled her way through the cemetery. Unbelievable, this one. Deadly and beautiful. It got his manly bits all tightened up. He gave himself a mental slap upside the head. What business did he have reacting to the Slayer like this when his Ripe Wicked Plum was waiting for him back for him at the factory? He concentrated on thoughts of his dark princess. He thought about the blue of her eyes and how the color changed with her moods. Mercurial, that one. It kept him on his toes. The kind of woman you could spend eternity with and never get bored. If you had her, that is.

Spike freely admitted that he was a fool for love, but he was not a fool. He knew Drusilla wasn’t his. The only claim he had on her was that of childe. She had never let him claim her as his mate, saying that she belonged to her precious daddy. Hell, he would have settled over the years for just having her lay a claim on him. He’d happily be her willing slave, but she hadn’t even been willing do to that. He guessed he just wasn’t worth it.

He never had been worth much. Couldn’t provide properly for his mum. Lousy poet. Beneath Cecily’s prospects. Beneath all of them really. Half-hearted vampire. Loving the fight and the kill, but never really embracing the whole ‘pain of the innocents’ thing.

He caught his last glimpse of the Slayer as she walked into the house on Revello Drive. Maybe if he killed this one Dru just might see him as worthy. No sooner had the idea cheered him then he remembered that tomorrow was Halloween. Nothing ever happened on Halloween. He’d have to wait a night before he could get his hands on the Slayer’s luscious little body. This time he went for a mental kick to the groin. Might work better.

He lectured himself all the way back to the factory. If he couldn’t even get his sire to love him, he sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking of the Slayer in romantic terms. She’d stake him before she ever let him put one of his filthy mitts on her. He should only be thinking of her in terms of killing. That and nothing else.

What kind of a monster was he to have thoughts such as these? Maybe he was a fool after all. Perhaps that’s what it all came down to – vamp or man, he was William the Bloody Fool. Unlovable to the last. A fool and nothing more.

“Hey, Giles. What’s the what?” Buffy asked as she and her friends descended upon the library.

It was funny how their presence changed the entire feel of the house of books. Giles gave a little smile as he realized that he actually preferred it when they were here. “A friend called today…”

“Friend?” Xander asked incredulously as he stuffed a potato chip in his mouth. “I didn’t know you had any of those.”

Giles gave the young boy a pained look. “Yes, well, in fact I have quite a few. This friend happens to be a mistress…” Once again he was interrupted by Xander.

“Ooh, a mistress. Like Elivra or like ‘who’s your daddy’?” Xander asked eagerly.

“I’m going to pretend that I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Giles said evenly before turning to Buffy. “She’s the mistress of a coven in England. She said that she was doing a sort of magical survey, checking to see what areas of the world were being most strongly influenced by magic. As you know the Hellmouth has a high level of magiks surrounding it at all times, and certainly she’s aware of this, but she saw a dramatic spike in the levels today. She thought she should warn us,” Giles explained.

“Huh, dramatic spikes.” Buffy’s mind trailed off to places it so shouldn’t go.

Willow, ever responsible, turned to Giles with a smile. “What can we do? Is there some way we can trace this locally. Some sort of locater spell or something?”

“Yes, actually.” Giles gave the young girl a smile of gratitude. It was nice to feel like someone was listening to him from time to time. “I took the opportunity of going to the local magic shop on my way here today. I have the spell prepared, but I do need some assistance in casting it.” He looked at the rag-tag group. “I suppose it can wait until after school, however. The three of you really should get to class.”

“No way!” Buffy said, coming out of her reverie. “Snyder is out there ordering people to act as escorts for a bunch of kids. Tonight is supposed to be my night off. Well, after I find this magic wielder and slay who or whatever it is.”

Hmm… She really had been listening. She never failed to surprise him. “Slaying might not be possible, I’m afraid. There is a good chance that this spell caster is human. Most are.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “That is so annoying. I hate when I can’t kill things.” She kicked her feet out in annoyance, accidentally hitting Xander under the table.

“Ow!” the boy screamed. “I mean really, ow!” He picked up his wounded leg and cradled it to his chest. He looked at Buffy. “You hurt me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” She gave him her most sincere look. The one that occasionally got her excused for missed chores.

“Well, if the tragedy is over, I would like to get back to the issue at hand,” Giles said as he lifted a little baggie out of his pocket and shook it.

“No thanks, man. I don’t do that stuff. Wacky weed will only bring you trouble,” Xander informed him.

“No, you idiot, it’s the ingredients for the spell!” Giles wanted to hit the boy. He really did. Perhaps just a little bruise on the other shin, so that he would sport matching wounds.

Willow got up and took the baggie from Giles. She sniffed it. “Hey, this actually smells kind of yummy.”

“It does, doesn’t it? I noticed the same thing myself while I was mixing it. All we have to do is apply a little alcohol, light it on fire, say a few words over a map of Sunnydale, and presto…” Giles waved his hand in the air.

“Cool. Very cool. How can I help?” Willow asked as she handed the baggie back to the Watcher.

“All three of you can help me with the chanting. There is power in numbers. I made photocopies of the words. They are in Latin, however, so I imagine a trial run on pronunciation is in order,” Giles said happily.

Xander and Buffy let out simultaneous groans. They had a feeling they would be here for a long, long time. Maybe Snyder’s little program wouldn’t be all that bad after all. Before they could get up out of their seats, before they could offer a sound protest, they found themselves repeating word segments and blends back to the librarian.

Several hours later an irritated Slayer grabbed the scorched map off the counter. “There. Map marked. Let me at whoever it is so I can get on with my night of no Slayer duties!”

“Not on your life.” Buffy pointed a finger at the group. “If even one of you goes with me, things will get complicated. I’ll end up at the Bronze, dancing. Or worse, escorting some human to the police station with Giles.”

“Let me worry about it.” Buffy turned and ran out of the building before anyone could stop her. She would have her night off, darn it.

She walked through town with one eye on the map and the other on the costumed cuties milling around her. It wasn’t even dark yet, but already they were emerging from their homes and meeting friends for the yearly candy cultivating festival. Eventually her feet took her to the place represented by the burn mark on the map. She looked up. Costume shop. Figures.

She walked into the shop. Empty. Apparently everyone already had their costumes. Buffy had a horrible thought. She sincerely hoped she was wrong. Magically enhanced costumes would not be of the good. A sense of urgency stole over her and she rushed toward the back of the store, bursting through the concealing curtain and knocking into a statue. The head-like sculpture warbled for a moment before it tipped over and crashed to the floor.

“Oops,” Buffy said, looking around. There in front of her stood a highly irritated man.

Ethan crossed his arms and stared daggers at the interloper who had in one fell swoop destroyed months of planning. This spell had been his masterpiece. Now its power lay uselessly shattered all over the floor before it could see fruition.

Buffy saw the look and pointed at the broken statue. “That is so not my fault. I mean, who leaves a statue in the middle of a room? Shouldn’t it be up on a pedestal or something if it’s so important to you?”

Ethan gritted his teeth, hard. “Yes, how silly of me. A pedestal. Though I feel strongly that someone of your caliber would not be put off by such a thing.”

“Hey, I think I’m insulted.” Buffy noticed for the first time the very spell casty look to the whole set up. “I take it you’re the big magic user that I’m here to stop.”

Ethan appraised the girl with new eyes. “You must be the Slayer. Rupert’s girl.” He placed his right hand briefly in his pant pockets, coating it with a powdery substance. He held out his hand to the bubbly blonde. “I’m Ethan. An old friend of your Watcher’s.”

Buffy put out her hand. She wasn’t going to give his a shake. Her purpose was to grab the little wizard and tie him up. Then she would call Giles and tell him where to find his ‘old friend’.

Ethan knew the girl’s intentions. Honestly, how stupid did she think he was? Right before their hands made contact he lifted his towards her face and blew. A fine powder coated her face and entered her eyes. “Blood, yellow bile, phlegm, black bile. Elements of self. Elemental self,” he chanted quickly, watching as the girl closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. He used the distraction to leave as quickly as he could. He knew exactly what was about to happen, and he wanted to be as far away as possible.

He kept that little dried concoction in his pockets for emergencies like this; when he was truly pissed off. The four humours were used in making the spell and they would demand to bring out the elemental self in four beings, starting with this blonde. One after the other they would be affected by the Slayer’s touch. It was definitely time to leave Sunnydale. The spell only lasted for twenty four hours, but with a Slayer in the mix, Ethan couldn’t be persuaded by Coyote himself to stay. Chaos was on its own tonight.

She looked around the room. No sense of belonging came over her. She slinked her way through the empty store like the shadows themselves. She moved silently. She was a predator. She walked into the night and lifted her head. She took in the fresh air of the dark. She loved the dark. It was her time. Her place to hunt. She broke into a trot, scenting her prey.

He was out there somewhere and he was hers. She avoided the strange little creatures that were running all around. She stuck to the shadows and the hidden places. She moved like a blur of darkness. A trick of the eye. Through the housing area she went, through the streets of the town, and into the industrial area. She was close to her prey. His scent was strong here, pulling her in.

She looked at the large factory building. She could feel the presence of several vampires inside. She scanned the building for open windows. There, at the top. She grabbed a hold of the corner of the building and easily crawled up. She slinked through the window. She passed a room with a woman who smelled heavily of him. It made her growl low in her throat. She went into the room, intent on tearing her rival apart.

Drusilla whirled around as she felt the shift in the air. Something was here. Something she had not been able to detect. “Spike!” she screamed just before the unknown creature attacked. Dru fought with everything she had, and then she fought with more. Gone suddenly was the weakness that had plagued her all these months. She was a fierce beast made to rip and bite.

Spike ran into the room in fear, but the sight that met him had the fear draining right out of him to be replaced by something much stronger. Lust. Hot, liquid lust. Drusilla and the Slayer were viciously fighting. Clothes were being torn. Bites were being made. Flesh scratched. It was the most unbelievably fucking beautiful thing he had ever seen. Neither woman capable of gaining the upper hand. They appeared equal in both their ferocity and their fighting skills. They were like wild animals. His painfully hard cock told him to jump in there while he could. He was about to do so, when suddenly the blonde stopped fighting. She threw the brunette to the corner of the room with a burst of renewed strength and turned to look at the prey she had only just now sensed was behind her.

Spike saw Drusilla fly backwards, and he would have gone to help her, but he was stopped by the look in the Slayer’s eyes. This chick was on something.

“Ah, Slayer, you’re actually kind of scaring me here,” Spike muttered as he edged carefully away from her. He spared a quick glance at Dru. Her eyes looked as wild as the Slayer’s. What had these two gotten into? But instead of joining Buffy on her path towards Spike, Dru slinked out of the room. ‘So much for help from that corner,’ Spike thought. The back of his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards on it. Uh-oh.

Buffy smiled a wide, feral smile and pounced. She held his head tightly and turned it sideways. She bit hard, straight through the skin, sucking in the delicious fluid pouring from his neck. “Mine!” she growled loudly for all the world to hear.

‘Fuck,’ Spike thought before something stole over him, ‘the Slayer just claimed me.’

Buffy began to rip and tear at the offending garments that were separating her from her prize. He was hers now. She’d claimed him. No one else had, and that meant he belonged to her. And she wanted him. She wanted him bad. Just as he was laid bare to her, he opened his eyes. Yellow eyes. Fierce, beautiful, yellow eyes.

Buffy felt herself being roughly turned over so that she lay beneath him. His knees parted her thighs as he rubbed his rock hard cock against her swollen mound. Not enough. She ground against him. Not nearly enough. She used her own hands to remove the last shreds of her clothing. Now he was pressed against her, skin to skin. It was close, but still not enough.

Spike knew what the girl wanted. She wanted him. All of him. And he’d give it, but not without getting everything she was in return. He bent down and nuzzled her neck, seeking permission. A shot of joy entered his heart as she willingly tilted her head, granting him access. He bit into her neck, savagely tearing her flesh to firmly mark it. “Mine!” His growl matched the intensity of her earlier one. Then, only then did he shove himself inside of her, tearing straight through her virginal membrane. The scent of that special blood hit his nostrils and he nearly blacked out.

She was his. Had never been anyone else’s. His. Finally, he had what belonged to him. He moved in and out of the girl at a hard, bruising pace. She matched him every bit of the way. Tiny little grunts of pleasure came out of her mouth each time he pushed inside of her. Soon they both reared their head’s back and howled at the night as they found their release.

Spike pulled her further up on the bed and crawled beside her. He began to carefully lick at all of her wounds. Cleaning her from head to toe. He took special consideration when reaching the crux of her thighs. Virgin blood. The blood of his mate. When he was done he lay down and pulled her on top of him. He brushed his lips over hers, with a purring sound coming from his chest. He was content. Replete. For the first time in his existence, he was truly at peace with himself.

Buffy parted her lips to allow him greater access to her mouth. She felt the first dart of his tongue and her breath hitched. He tasted like home. She eagerly began kissing him back, running her tongue over his, sucking on his lips. Hers. This man was hers just as she was his. She belonged. She was at peace. This is what she had been searching for all along. She’d found herself in this man.

Drusilla tore through the cemetery. She had to find him. She could smell him. He was everywhere here, and yet he was not here at all. She was about to slip into a howling despair when a singular signature finally made its way to her. She lifted her head in the air and began to trail it. Eventually she reached a building. She pounded fiercely on the door.

Angel heard the knocking. No, pounding. He set his book down with a weary sigh. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t a bunch of teenagers out for stale trick or treating. He really hated that. If you were old enough to drive to the store and buy your own damn candy, then do it! He flung the door open and was immediately thrown backwards.

She’d found him. She licked his neck, nipping and mewling in her throat to show him her pleasure.

Drusilla. Drusilla was on him. Licking him. He felt his cock respond and a shaft of guilt went through his dead heart. Buffy. She wouldn’t like this. He tried to pry Drusilla from his neck. No go. He caught sight of the still open door and swore. He got up, Dru firmly attached, and made his way over to shut it. That done, he returned his attention to Drusilla.

Dru wasn’t about to let her sire part from her. She broke away from his neck and looked into his eyes. Her own were a feral yellow. “Mine! My sire,” she growled.

Angel sighed. “Yes, Drusilla. Your sire. Now why don’t you get off me so we can sit and talk. Starting with what you took tonight?” He tried again to pry her off of him. “Okay, let’s just sit together then.”

He made his way over to his bed and sat down with her straddling him. He brushed her dark hair back from her lovely face. “So beautiful, my Dru. Now tell me, did Spike feed you some stoner?”

Dru could hear his words. She recognized only two. Her name and the name of her childe. She stared patiently at her sire, waiting for him to finish so they could play.

Angel realized that she wasn’t getting a word he said. He tilted his head back and sighed. One thing was for sure: she was a hell of a lot stronger tonight than she had been. He realized that he’d have to pay a call to Giles. If any other vamps-- most noticeably Spike-- were hopped up on this stuff with all of the kids running around, things would turn real ugly real quick. He stood up, Drusilla firmly wrapped around him. “Okay, Dru. Daddy’s taking you on a walk.”

Angel made it to Giles’ house, thankfully without catching sight of any more tripping vampires. He’d received only the occasionally odd glance from passers by. Dru was still firmly wrapped around his torso, but it was Halloween and there were weirder looking things out on this night. He knocked on Giles’ door. It was immediately opened.

“Trick or treat,” he said sarcastically to the librarian and his bowl of candy.

“Angel?” Giles said in surprise. “What are you doing here and why do you have a woman wrapped around your body. Is this Drusilla?”

“Yes to the last question, and the first relates to the second. I need you to help me figure out why she’s attached herself to me,” Angel said. “She seems to be drugged or something. I’m afraid that if Spike or any other vampires are like this, we’re going to have a bloodbath on our hands. Vampires normally sit this night out, but if they aren’t in their right minds, who knows what could happen.”

“Yes, quite.” Giles reached over and grabbed his coat and keys. He locked his door, leaving the bowl of candy outside, in the vain hope that it might last until he returned. “We should go to Buffy’s. We’ll need her help on this. Could you turn her around so that I could see into her eyes.”

Angel maneuvered Dru’s head, which had been buried in his neck so that she faced the Watcher. She gave the man a tiny warning growl and then returned to her neck nuzzling.

“I agree. She’s been affected by some substance or another. We’d best hurry,” Giles said as he walked the two oddly attached vampires to his car.

They arrived at Buffy’s to see Joyce handing out candy with a smile to a group of young children. Giles got out of the car alone and walked up to the porch. She waved the kids off and then turned to greet him with the smile slipping off her face.

“Ah, yes. I was wondering if Buffy was here?” he asked the woman. He’d really been hoping she would be at the gallery.

“Oh, no. Nothing of the sort. It’s just that many of the kids were escorting groups of children around tonight and I was wondering if she’d returned. We are trying to see how long it takes each year to, to, ah… time the trick or treating,” he finished lamely.

“Oh, okay. She didn’t tell me anything about this, but then again that’s nothing new. Sometimes I feel as if she’s leading this entirely different life that I don’t know anything about,” Joyce laughed nervously.

Giles smiled at her. “That’s ridiculous, of course. Well, if umm… Buffy returns please have her call me to tell me how long it took her to complete her rounds.”

“Certainly, Mr. Giles. Thanks for stopping by,” Joyce said, wondering if she should worry about the amount of time her daughter spent with the older man.

Giles gave her a tight smile and backed up towards his car. He turned around and got in with a deep sigh as he started the engine. “That woman thinks I’m strange. I could see it in her eyes.”

Angel gave a hollow laugh. “Cheer up. I could have gotten out of the car with my leach. That would have given her an entirely new outlook on strange.”

Giles actually laughed. It wasn’t necessarily a healthy laugh. “Let’s try the cemeteries. Maybe Buffy decided to patrol after she finished with the magic user.”

“Magic user?” Angel asked, absently petting Dru’s hair. Grinning as it made her purr. He’d missed that sound. He really had.

“Yes,” Giles said as he drove. “There was someone performing a spell around town. Buffy went to stop them.”

“Think there could be a connection?” Angel asked, pointing towards the woman on his lap.

Buffy and Spike had awoken, sated but hungry. They headed out into the night. Each looking for food, but unwilling to part from the other. Spike let his nose lead them. Soon he found exactly what they needed. A picnic. There were two humans foolishly lounging on a blanket, under the stars, gothed out, and sucking face. Spike held Buffy back with one arm as he moved soundlessly into the bushes to reach his prey. He was running on instinct, and instinct told him to kill the male quickly, drain the female, and then feed his mate.

Spike moved in. He snapped the male’s neck and sank his fangs into the female’s throat. He drained her rapidly and left her body on the blanket beside her boyfriend. Then he rifled through the food until he found what he was looking for – meat. His mate needed meat. He pulled the roast beef out of the sandwich and grabbed a bottle of water. He made his way back through the bushes where Buffy waited patiently.

He pulled her naked form down onto the cool grass until she was in a sitting position. Then he gave her a toothy smile as he dangled a piece of the roast beef into the air. Buffy had smelled the meat immediately. She could also smell the fresh blood on her mate’s breath. He’d fed. She was glad. She needed him strong. She opened her mouth and tilted her head back, allowing him to feed her. He repeated the process over and over until the last piece of roast beef was gone. Then he took a swig of the water and leaned in to press his mouth against hers, passing the water into her body. If she were a vampire he would feed her only upon his blood, and he sought a way to replicate this the best he could.

Buffy was satisfied on one front but feeling a pressing need on the other. She really needed to relieve herself. She gave her mate’s neck a nuzzle and then slinked off into the bushes. Spike knew what she needed and as long as he could smell her and hear her he was okay with her going a few yards away from him. He lay down on the grass and closed his eyes. He felt such peace. Full belly. Satisfied cock. Full heart.

The gang was trudging through the cemetery. Giles had rounded everyone up, worried that they were vulnerable with drug crazed vampires running around and a missing Buffy. The young people were being surprisingly resilient, though he did notice they kept stealing surreptitious glances over at the growth that Angel was still sprouting. Giles had to admit it was one of the oddest things he had ever seen in his life. The female vampire seemed to be entirely content to keep herself wrapped around the male, just waiting for him to finish his business and take care of her. He had a feeling he’d be spending a late night with his Watcher’s Journal when he eventually returned home.

The intrepid group rounded a bend in the cemetery wall that opened into a local common area. Everyone in the group stopped dead still. Even those with heartbeats. There, across the clearing, was Spike. A very naked Spike just lying on the grass.

Angel recovered from his surprise and started walking toward the vamp. He didn’t make it. Something tackled him from the side. Down he went to the ground. No sooner had it registered in his mind that it was an equally naked Buffy that had attacked him then he felt something take over. Something wild. He turned and flashed his fangs at her, Drusilla falling to the side in his haste.

Giles watched in horror as his Slayer tore into the big vampire she supposedly loved. She was vicious. At least he’d thought she was vicious. Once Spike joined the fray he realized what true viciousness was. There was scratching, growling, and the distinct sound of bones crunching and flesh tearing.

Giles caught sight of their eyes, including Angel’s, and he began to carefully back the humans out of the park. When they’d exited the cemetery walls he said as quietly as he could, “Run.”

They ran. They’d seen Buffy’s eyes. Whatever the vamps were on, so was she, and somehow that had been passed on to Angel. Not good. Really, really not good. They reached the other end of the cemetery and Giles’ car. Piling in they tore out of the area as fast as the sputtering car would take them. Giles headed over to Buffy’s. He ran up the steps and pounded on the door.

A sleepy yet panicked Joyce opened the door. “What? Has something happened to Buffy?”

“Yes, now get in. I’ll take you to her,” Giles lied. Now was not the time for explanations. Now was the time to regroup somewhere that the vampires did not have an open invitation to.

“Xander?” Giles asked as he and Joyce got back into the car. "Has Angel ever been inside your home?”

“Because we need to all get somewhere safe until we can figure out what’s going on,” Giles informed him.

“Wait! What? No way. Head to the decent section of Sunnydale. He doesn’t have an invitation to my house and it’s so much nicer than Xander’s it doesn’t even rate a comparison,” Cordelia declared.

Joyce was confused. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here? Where’s my daughter?”

“We’ll tell you as soon as we get to the Chase residence,” Giles promised.

Joyce calmed somewhat. Mr. and Mrs. Chase had commissioned several pieces from one of her favorite artists recently. They were terrible snobs, but normal. She seriously doubted there was anything normal to the man sitting next to her. She could call the police from the Chase’s.

They arrived at Cordelia’s to find her parents out for the evening. They parked the car and headed out to the pool house. Cordelia said the servants would just assume she was having an impromptu party. Apparently it wasn’t uncommon for her to do such things and they knew she’d expect them to stay out of the way.

She let the gang in and went into the bathroom to remove her cat costume and put on a nice, fluffy white robe. When she came out she saw Xander and Giles holding down Buffy’s mom. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Listen!” Queen C yelled. “Your daughter slays vampires. She’s the Chosen One. You should be proud. There’s like only one in the world or something. Get used to it. We all have. And really, shouldn’t you have figured some of this out by now?”

Joyce quit struggling. The girl was saying exactly what the others had said to her a minute before, but somehow coming out of Cordelia’s mouth it seemed… so final. So true. She looked at Cordelia. “So, Buffy’s not a gang member?” she spoke her deepest fear.

Cordelia threw her head back and laughed. “Buffy! Buffy Summers a gang member!”

Willow couldn’t help letting out a little giggle herself. It was silly, really. Buffy a gang member. “Mrs. Summers, I swear we’re telling the truth. Buffy fights vampires.”

“Where is she then? I want to talk to her myself,” Joyce said, shaking the men off her but not heading for the phone like she had tried earlier.

“She’s fighting,” Giles said quietly. There was no way he could explain this to Joyce. He didn’t even understand it himself. Though he had a pretty good idea that it must have had something to do with the magic user Buffy had been sent out to stop earlier. He ran a hand across his forehead.

“I have to go back out,” he announced. “I need to check out the place Buffy went to earlier tonight. I still have a copy of the map. I marked it. You all stay here. Explain things to Buffy’s mother. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He turned and headed for the door. “Listen, don’t let me back in if my eyes look… or if I need to be invited. Got it?”

He drove out into the quiet of the night. It was strange really. All of the kids had gone home. Trick or treat was done. The demons were safely nestled in their lairs. It was a very uneventful night if you discounted the fact that his Slayer had been last seen rutting and fighting naked in what passed for woods around here.

He came to the place on the map and stopped the car. A costume shop. A shiver of horror passed over him as thoughts of what could have transpired tonight entered his brain. Magic + costume shop = no good. The door was open so he pushed his way in. Silence. This place was empty. He’d grabbed a flashlight from under the passenger seat of his car and he was now using it to in an arcing motion across the shop floor. Nothing. He spotted an opening toward the back and moved determinedly toward it.

Giles walked into the backroom and a beam of light landed on the broken statue. Janus. Not good. He had a funny feeling about this. Broken statues immediately brought to mind his Slayer and her often surprisingly clumsy ways. Then he spotted something else, something barely noticeable if you hadn’t seen it before. Powder. Not just any powder. This was one of Ethan’s specialties. Damn him.

Giles got back in the car to head back to Cordelia’s. He knew exactly what had been done. He’d helped to create the spell in another life time. Another man. Not Giles. Ripper. Sounded kind of silly now. The foolishness of boys. Only Ethan wasn’t a boy any longer. It was long past time he be held accountable for his actions. Not tonight, however. Tonight he would wait indoors in what he hoped would be safety. The spell only lasted twenty-four hours. They’d have to wait it out. Wait out the deadliness of a primal Slayer and three vampires. Giles drove along with a song playing gently, achingly inside of his head. What a Difference a Day Makes…

Buffy had a nipple in her mouth. A flat, male nipple. The kind you really have to suck to get up and going. Lucky for her, or him, Buffy had enhanced muscles everywhere.

Spike held her head to him with his hands gripped tightly into her blonde locks. This was his. This girl. This creature. Words meant nothing to him. It was all just… her. Her mouth on his chest. Her nails embedded in his sides. Her cunny surrounding his pumping cock. “Aughh!!!” he screamed as he came, ripping her off the object of her current affections to sink his fangs into her neck.

Buffy’s own orgasm came crashing down onto her as she followed her mate and bit into his flesh. Home. Him. They were synonymous. It was all about him. A whispering wind broke across them, dissolving into them. Letting the hegemony back into their lives, their minds, their hearts.

Spike realized several things all at once. First, he had the Slayer in his arms, his fangs in her neck, and his dick buried in her heat. All of which would be good if he hadn’t noticed the other things. Like the fact that her mouth was equally attached to his own. And the claim. He was very aware of the claim.

Buffy first noticed that she had something in her mouth. Something incredible. Something she wanted like she’d wanted nothing else before. She let herself luxuriate in it for a moment until the knowledge of just what it was she had in her mouth hit her. Spike. She was… biting Spike? She let go and pushed away. A pair of intense blue eyes looked into her own. That’s when she also became aware of other things. Like that Spike had been inside of her in more ways than one. She scooted further away.

Spike looked down. He should be attacking her. Eradicating this mess. Vampires did not mate with Slayers. Not ever. He had Dru. Dru… “Fuck!” he yelled coming to a stand. He glanced around for their clothes. He wasn’t getting a very clear picture of the events of the last twenty four hours, but he was pretty sure that at some point Dru had run off with Angelus. He found clothes in a trunk and he threw them at the confused girl standing in shock behind him.

A strange feeling hit Buffy. It was like a cross between disappointment and pain. She was very confused. She hated Spike. Why had she done all of those things with him? Why did she feel the need to stay here? To be anywhere he was? Her hands started to shake. She looked at the clothes grasped in her trembling fingers and she put them on. Her body felt strange. It was extremely sensitive.

Spike was dressed before the frightened teenager. He turned around to see her slipping on the pair of too big, black jeans he had thrown at her. His jeans. His shirt. He couldn’t bear the thought of giving her anything of Dru’s. Fuck. Dru. He’d claimed the Slayer. He’d shagged the Slayer. Right. In. Their. Bed. It didn’t matter that the crazy vamp was probably banging away at her ‘daddy’. Spike wasn’t like that. He was loyal. He was her willing slave. Always had been. Oh, he felt the pull of the girl in front of him. But he wasn’t about to respond to it. He had over a century of control on his side, and he was going to exercise it, damn it.

“Do you know what happened?” Buffy asked in a small voice as she rolled the jeans up to fit her small frame.

“Nope. Don’t know. Don’t care. Just want you out of here. Gotta find my girl. Get things back to normal.” He walked right on by her and out the door.

Buffy’s chin was betraying her and she was glad he’d left. That he did not see as the tears poured down her cheeks. She didn’t know what had happened, but she knew that nothing would ever be the same. She turned and followed him out the door, making sure he was well in front of her. Dignity wasn’t much, but it was something.

He went one way. Buffy was pretty sure he was heading to Angel’s apartment. She went another. Home. It left a funny taste in her mouth -- that word. There was something really wrong about it.

Spike was grinding his teeth and since he was in full vamp face it wasn’t pleasant. His demon was pissed. The further it got away from its mate the angrier it became. This was not good. He somehow hadn’t expected it to be like this. It actually hurt. The damn demon thought it was in love. That was unexpected.

He made it to Angel’s apartment and pounded furiously on the door. A moment later it was flung open to reveal his grand-sire in nothing more than a pair of black slacks. “Come in, Spike,” Angel said in a voice heavy with weariness.

Spike walked in and looked around. “Nice place. Any new additions you care to show me?”

“Hello, Spike,” Dru said softly from the bed. She was curled up in a ball, crying.

Spike ran over to her. “Dru. My princess. I’m so sorry,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. A wave of revulsion poured over him but he fought it down and held on to the distraught vampire.

Spike gave Angel a dirty look. “Why the fuck do you do this to her?” he yelled.

Angel flinched. “The last time wasn’t my fault. Darla kicked me out. Not like the two of you were running after me. The way I see it, I was the aggrieved party there. Not you. And now this… This,” he sighed. “This isn’t my fault either. I was with Giles, Buffy’s Watcher, last night. He believes it was a spell. There was nothing any of us could do about it.”

Spike sniffed Dru. She’d had sex with the tosser. Lots of it. Angelus had always had a claim on the girl, and Spike could tell it had been renewed. “What are we supposed to do about this then?” he asked, moving Dru’s hair aside to expose the fresh marks on her neck.

“It will wear off in time. It always does,” Angel answered sadly, rubbing a thumb over his own neck. Angelus was howling in rage, but thanks to the soul he was locked in too deeply to go across the room and take his mate out of Spike’s arms.

Spike stood up with Drusilla in his arms. “Then you won’t mind if I just take the girl back then, eh mate?” He didn’t wait for Angel to answer. He just left, carrying Drusilla all the way home. He cleaned her up and laid her in their bed. He wished he’d had time to change the sheets. They reeked of him and the Slayer.

He went back into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. But the heat reminded him of the Slayer. He put his head against the shower wall. What was he going to do? Like Angel said, the claim would lessen. Though it would always be there. A thousand years form now it would be there, but its pull would lessen day by day. Until then? He had a broken hearted sire, and he had a broken hearted demon. It was going to take every ounce of control he had to stay away from the blonde Slayer.

Across town, in a still empty house, Buffy was struggling. She didn’t have any knowledge or experience to help her through this. All she had was a burning desire to return to him. She was in a corner of her room, wedged against two walls. Mr. Gordo was clutched firmly in her arms, her only lifeline to sanity. She gripped him tightly as she rocked back and forth, willing her arms and legs to still.

“She’s up here!” Joyce yelled in relief. Mr. Giles had made them all wait until daylight of the following day before going home. He’d insisted on coming in with her, just to be safe. She crouched down at her daughter’s level and reached out a hand to touch her forehead. A low growl had her snatching her hand back. She heard the librarian enter the room and she turned to him with a worried look. “Something’s wrong.”

Giles approached the girl slowly. He knew what strength she possessed. She appeared to be sweating profusely and that wasn’t a good sign. She was also trembling. Also not a good sign. It was as if she was suffering from withdrawals. “Back away, Joyce. She can be dangerous.”

“I can’t. I have to help her,” Joyce said, not moving an inch. “Buffy? Baby? It’s mommy. Can you talk to me, sweetheart?”

Buffy looked up at her mother with watery, overly bright, green eyes. “Mommy?”

Joyce put her hand to her chest as a sob caught in her throat. “Yeah, baby, it’s me. Can I touch you? I want to get you into bed.”

Buffy nodded her head, but when Joyce made another move to touch her she couldn’t help the warning growl that sounded in her throat. More scared than ever, Buffy looked beyond her mother to the man she could feel behind her. “Giles? What’s wrong with me?”

“I’m not sure, Buffy. We need to get you into bed. I might need to take some blood samples. I believe a man I used to know put a spell on you. It might be withdrawals. Angel, Drusilla, and Spike were also affected,” he explained, noting the way she twitched at Spike’s name.

“Okay, I’ll try to move. But, mom, don’t touch me. There’s something really wrong with me,” Buffy said softly as she forced herself to her hands and knees and crawled over to her bed. With difficulty she was able to get herself up and on it. A fresh bout of tremors hit her, however, and she started to convulse.

Joyce tried to help her, but was stayed by Giles hand. “Don’t. Just wait until they’ve passed.” He stood by the helpless mother, watching.

Buffy felt hot. So hot. The fang marks on her neck were throbbing. They felt like they were going to burst. She pulled her damp hand away so that they could breathe, headless of the sharp intake of breath from the humans in the room.

Joyce was shocked at the wound on her daughter’s neck. “Do you think she has an infection? Did one of those things bite her?” she asked worriedly.

Giles swallowed. “No. And it’s far worse than a mere bite. That’s a claim. She’s been claimed,” Giles said, placing his head in his hands. It was over. This girl’s life was done. The Council had very strict policies on claimed Slayers. They would send in a wetworks team immediately. Claimed Slayers did not act like claimed humans. Humans became mindlessly devoted to the vampire who had them enthralled. With Slayers it awoke the demon inside of them. They not only had a loyalty to the vampire who claimed them, but they became what could only be described as feral. They still held onto their humanity, but it wasn’t ever the same. They were changed.

“What’s a claim?” The voice did not come from the woman beside him. It came from the girl on the bed.

“It means the vampire who bit you now owns you. It doesn’t happen very often. A person cannot be claimed without being willing. I’m sure that the spell placed upon you last night had some bearing on this,” Giles said evasively.

“Owns me? But what if I claimed him first?” Buffy asked, thinking back to the hazy events of that night. She was pretty sure it was her who instituted the claim.

“I don’t believe that’s possible,” Giles answered her, daring to walk closer.

Buffy looked up at him. Sure now. “It is possible, Giles. I bit him first. Claimed him. Then he bit me,” Buffy said firmly.

Giles thought about this. A dual claim. There weren’t such things, were there? An impossible thought struck him. “Buffy, did you have sex with… this vampire?”

Buffy turned her head away, unable to look in her mother’s direction. “It was Spike, and yes.”

“I see. Not just a claim then. A mating.” Giles found himself trying to decide if that made a difference. It wouldn’t make a difference to the Council, but it did mean that Buffy was on equal footing. Spike could not mindlessly control her. Her Slayer side would be irrevocably stronger, however. A few Slayers had been seduced by a vampire and submitted to claims, but none had ever equally mated with one. Giles suspected that they thought that was what they were doing, but vampires were clever creatures. The Watcher realized it must have been the spell that had caused Spike to bind himself to a Slayer. Still, he didn’t expect they would receive much help from that corner.

“I have to go,” Giles told Joyce who was weeping softly to herself as she stared at her little girl.

“Where? Why? You have to fix this! My baby is hurting. You need to make it stop!” she yelled.

“I am going to do everything in my power to help her, Joyce. But I need… I cannot call the Council. They would kill her. She’s an unknown at this point,” Giles explained.

“Unknown! She’s not unknown! She’s Buffy. My daughter! Now you go and get whatever help you need and you come back and fix her!” Joyce yelled ferociously.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, woman. Now, do not answer the phone or the door. Do not speak to anyone of this. Not even her friends. No one must know. The Council is very powerful and they won’t hesitate to send assassins after her. Do you understand?” he asked.

“Yes. I understand perfectly.” Joyce didn’t look at the man as he left the room and her house. When she heard his car start she went into her bedroom and pulled a box out from under the bed. Then she went into her closet and opened up the safe. She took out a box of shells and relocked the safe. Then she went back into her room and opened the box. She took out the shotgun that her grandfather had willed to her when he died, loaded it and sent off a silent thanks to the grandfather who had so patiently taught her how to defend herself.

Buffy’s eyes grew wide as she saw what her mother held. “Mom! Since when do we own a gun?”

“Since before you were born. This Council. They’re human, right?” Joyce asked.

“Water would be good,” Buffy admitted. Wow. Her mom could be really scary sometimes.

Joyce came back in the room with a glass of water, a basin, and a sponge. She handed the water to Buffy who drank it down without taking a single breath. “I want to wash you down, sweetie.”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I seem to get kind of growly when you try and touch me.”

“I noticed. Can I try again?” Joyce didn’t wait for her to answer. She ran the sponge along one of Buffy’s exposed feet. No growl. Good. She kept it up. She noticed the black pants sitting in the corner of the room. Buffy was only wearing a t-shirt. No underwear.

Moving very slowly, she was able to clean her daughter up to some degree. The t-shirt stayed on, however. Buffy had gotten suddenly possessive of the garment. Joyce backed off. She went into the bathroom to rinse the basin off and refill it. She came back into the room to see her daughter’s eyes glowing. The growling had also resumed. Joyce followed the girl’s line of site. Giles was back and he’d brought someone with him.

“You must be Angel,” Joyce said, recognizing him from the description given to her by one of Buffy’s friends.

“Yes,” Angel answered, not bothering to look at the woman. All he could see was Buffy. What had Spike done? What had she done? This was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Giles had explained things as Angel huddled underneath a blanket inside the man’s car, but he still hadn’t expected this.

“It can’t be broken. It should weaken, but…” Angel trailed off. The eyes. Her mouth was closed but he expected there were teeth to go along with those eyes. He took a deep, unnecessary breath and walked slowly over to the bed. Her growling increased. It was a halfhearted warning at best. Low in her throat. Not reaching what it could be. Angel hoped that meant she was sensing that he was family. If he was lucky, she would also respond to him as an elder.

He reached out a hand and her growling increased. He growled back and she immediately responded. The growling ceased and turned into mewling. Angel let out a tiny sob of relief. He looked back to Giles. “It’s going to be okay. I can help her.”

Angel, annoyed, growled at the man, setting Buffy off all over again. This time her attention focused on the Watcher. “Giles,” Angel said. “The claim, as you know, is a mating, it cannot be broken. End of story. But it will lessen eventually. In the meantime she is willing to let me take care of her. This isn’t going to be easy, and I’m going through something similar myself. It would be best if you let me take her home with me.”

Joyce’s response was immediate. She cocked the rifle. “No. She stays with me.”

Angel had to hold back a smile. He could easily see where Buffy got her fire from, but he had a point to prove here. “Joyce,” he said. “Look.” He reached out a hand and pulled Buffy’s lips up to reveal her gums. There, nestled above her regular teeth, was a sharp pair of retracted fangs, just the tips showing.

“No, not a vampire,” Giles said. “Just changing. It happens to all claimed Slayers. Especially if they are fed blood from the vampire who has claimed them. It’s why the Council kills them. They are unpredictable.”

“Not this time,” Joyce said in a voice of steel. “Angel. Take her. If you need anything you know where to find me.”

Angel picked up the tiny girl and held her close. “I promise to keep her safe, Joyce.”

Chapter 8: Need

Angel was having a hell of time. He’d forgotten just how strong she was. Currently, he was spread out on his bed, doing his damndest to hold her down. Her fangs were fully distended and her eyes were glowing amber. She needed blood. The problem was that she didn’t need just any old blood. She needed Spike’s blood. Since his blood was Spike’s blood, he was trying to talk her into biting him. But she’d reacted on the violent side when he suggested it; hence their current situation.

“Buffy, you need it. You’re sick and you’re getting worse,” he yelled as he forced her down.

“No. Not yours. Not yours!” she screamed instinctually.

“I know it, baby. I know it, but I’m all you’ve got,” he cried.

That seemed to settle her down a bit. “I’m sorry, Angel. I really am. I just can’t seem to control myself. It hurts. I hurt. I… I need him. I wish I didn’t, but I do.” She started crying and Angel felt it was safe to let her go.

“You need to rest. If you drink, the demon will be satisfied and you’ll be able to sleep. Please, drink from me, Buffy. I can put it in a cup if the biting is a problem,” he suggested.

She wanted it. Some part of her. But she just couldn’t. It was wrong. She shook her head, letting him know her answer.

Angel got up and sighed, running a hand threw his head. “If I get his permission? Will you do it if he says it’s okay?”

Buffy thought about it. Once again she didn’t answer out loud, but she did nod her head. Ever so slightly.

“Okay. I’m going to go now. It’s dark out. Just don’t try to leave or anything.” Angel looked down at her. Fuck it. He walked over to the bureau and pulled out a roll of duct tape. He flipped her over and trussed her up in record, rodeo-style time. Of course she hadn’t protested. That made it easier.

“I’ll be bake in twenty minutes. I promise.” He left her there and walked out the door.

On his way back to the factory he ran several scenarios through his head. There had to be some way to convince Spike to give permission for the blood. Spike could just say no on the basis that it was Angel doing the asking. Sometimes he was perverse like that. He could be such a shit.

Angel walked into the factory, staking a few minions for good measure as he made his way unerringly to Dru and Spike’s bedroom. He flung open the door and immediately forced himself to tone down his sense of smell. The place reeked of Spike and Buffy.

“Nice of you to knock,” Spike said as he looked up from the bed.

“You’re sleeping late, Spike,” Angel responded, looking around for Dru. “Where’s the little woman?”

“You mean your little woman?” Spike asked, taking a cigarette from the nightstand and lighting it. “Hunting. Didn’t feel like going. Slayer blood fills you up for days, ruins you for anything else, really.”

Angel knew the young vamp was trying to get a rise out of him. It nearly worked. He reminded himself what he was here for. “I know you hate me, but I need something from you.”

Spike’s interest was tweaked. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” He blew a long stream of white smoke from his lips.

“It’s about Buffy, the Slayer. She needs blood,” Angel began.

“Take her to the soddin’ hospital then. They’ve got loads of the stuff. Right stingy with it, too.” Spike had no idea what Angel was getting at.

“Not human blood. She needs vamp blood. Our blood. I want to give her mine, but she refuses. She’ll do it if you give permission,” Angel finished.

Spike was surprised. More than surprised. He’d seen claimed humans before. They never needed blood. Course he’d never seen a human mated to a vamp before. “This usually happen when a vamp and human get drunk and hitch themselves up?”

“It isn’t about the mating so much. I mean it is… This is complicated. It turns out that Slayers are made from demons just like we always thought. And…”

Spike laughed, interrupting Angel. “And they are so damn sanctimonious, always chasing after us, killing their own kind.”

“That’s neither here nor there, Spike. Will you give your permission for me to feed Buffy?” Angel said, forcing Spike back on topic.

Spike looked at the glowing embers on his cigarette. He had no reason at all to deny Angel his request unless it was for pure spite. “Do it. Just do it,” he said quietly, knowing the only reason he actually gave in was because it felt so very wrong to do so. He wasn’t about to be controlled by this… this abomination. This mating to a Slayer. Hell no, he didn’t want Angel touching her. She was his. But he couldn’t give into his instincts on this. He refused.

Angel didn’t waste any time. He ran out of the room, out of the building, and into the night. There was some small part of him that was actually looking forward to this. He would never have done what Spike did to Buffy. He wanted her in the light. It’s where she belonged, but he couldn’t deny the strange feeling of peace and belonging he had having her beside him like she was now.

He walked into the apartment and removed his shirt. There she was, lying exactly where she’d left him. Beautiful. He walked over to the bed and turned her over, not bothering to take the duct tape off her wrists and ankles. “He gave permission, Buffy. You need to drink, sweetheart,” Angel told her as held her up so that her mouth was pressed against her neck.

Buffy still didn’t want to do it, but she knew she needed it. She could feel the saliva pool in her mouth as she scented the blood underneath the surface of his skin. She swallowed. She had to do this. She opened her mouth, ready to bite down…

The door to the apartment flew open. “Get the fuck away from her, Angel!” Spike yelled as he stormed in. “She’s mine!”

Angel turned to him with a slight growl. He didn’t even mean it. He caught himself and reined in the demon. He dropped Buffy back onto the bed and stepped away. “Yours,” Angel admitted. He wasn’t being that magnanimous. He knew damned well that Buffy wouldn’t let him feed her now.

Spike looked at the girl on the bed. She was still in his t-shirt. That and nothing else. Realizing that meant that Angel had gotten a good look at more than he should, he threw another roaring growl at his grand-sire. Then he turned back to the panting Slayer and removed the tape. “Don’t know why you’ve tied her up like this. Skin’s all chaffed. What were you thinking?” he yelled.

“I was afraid she’d follow me. Try to come to the factory. To you,” Angel explained.

Spike rubbed her wrists. She just looked up at him with glassy eyes. She was obviously sick. There was a strange heat coming off her skin. His demon was enraged at the shape its mate was in. Before Spike knew it he was in full game face and holding her gently to him. “Drink,” he commanded, and she did.

Buffy gratefully sank her fangs into Spike’s neck. There. That was what she needed. Blood. His blood. She swallowed several gulps of the elixir down and then she retracted her fangs and closed her eyes, soundly asleep.

Something happened to Spike at that moment as she collapsed against him. So much trust. So much tenderness. All wrapped up in this tiny creature. He couldn’t deny it any longer. She was his. He swallowed hard and looked at Angel. “What am I going to do?”

Chapter 9: Need

With his soul, Angel was able to feel something besides annoyance, possession, and disappointment with Spike. For the first time ever, he felt sorry for the younger vamp. “I honestly don’t know what you should do, Spike,” Angel said.

“I’m not going to be able to leave her, am I?” Spike asked, looking down at the sleeping girl in his arms.

Angel’s voice was soft, resigned when it came. “Probably not.” He looked up at Spike and gave a laugh. It was highly reminiscent of Angelus. “The way you stormed in here, boy. Taking her for yourself. It was really something.”

Spike laughed. Maybe he was finally being the vampire that Angelus had always wanted him to be. “Liked that did you?”

Angel pulled a chair up to sit near the bed. “Yeah, I did,” he answered. “You never did that with Drusilla.”

“Did what?” Spike asked.

“Challenged me for her. Not once,” Angel stated and waited for understanding to come to Spike.

The bleached blonde vamp repositioned himself so that he was lying on the bed, curled around his unwanted mate. He thought about what his grand-sire had said. He never had challenged him for Drusilla. His sire. The meaning of his existence. His dark princess. His ripe, wicked plum. Yet, he had barged in here, thoroughly intent on keeping Angel from taking this tiny little girl who he barely knew. It had been instinctual. Primal. He looked up at the elder vamp. “There’s something here, isn’t there? Something more than just the reciprocated bites?”

Angel didn’t like this part. He needed to talk to Giles about just what kind of spell they had all been under. “I think you’re right. When I saw you the night we… you know. I had Dru ridiculously attached to me. She was holding on for everything she was worth. Not gonna let me go.” Angel gave a smile. “I saw you in the distance. You were completely naked and lying on the grass. I was sure that you were affected by the same thing Dru was, so I walked toward you. I’m not sure what I would have done. Staked you or taken you home with me,” Angel said honestly.

“’S alright, mate. I understand,” Spike said, swallowing back old hurts.

“Not really. But things are confusing now. Letting you and Dru live is letting innocent people die. But I still care about you. I don’t know what to do or think. A part of me is actually relieved that you and Buffy are mated. It gives me a solid reason not to…” Angel trailed off, ashamed on so many fronts.

“I understand, Angel. I may be a demon but I’ve been around a long time. Got some wisdom going for me,” Spike said as he stroked the sleeping girl’s head, loving the way her golden locks glinted in the soft light.

Angel laughed. “I know you do, Spike. You always did. You were always different. It used to bug the hell out of me before. It just adds to my confusion and my guilt now. But anyway, what I was saying is that before I could figure out what I was going to do, Buffy rushed me. Entirely focused on saving you from me. It was intense.”

Spike smiled, remembering through the haze that had accompanied the spell. “That was pretty neat, wasn’t it?”

“That it was,” Angel agreed.

“No one but you has ever come to my defense like that before,” Spike said quietly. “Certainly not Drusilla.”

Angel gave his grand-childe a small smile as he got up from the chair. “I need to call Giles. Ask him about the spell.”

Spike didn’t answer. He just looked at the girl in his arms. His girl. Maybe his demon knew something he didn’t. Maybe it was more than just some spell induced mating. Maybe it went deeper than that. Maybe.

Angel picked up the phone and dialed Giles’ apartment.

“Hello?”

“Giles, it’s Angel. I want you to tell me everything you know about the spell that was used.”

“Yes, of course. It is an elemental spell meant to bring out the most base, primal if you will, natures in a person. Four persons actually as it uses the four humours of the body.”

“So it represents all basic elements of the self?”

“Indeed.”

“You realize what this means, Giles?”

“I do in fact. Every part of Buffy responds to every part of Spike, and likewise you with Drusilla,” Giles answered.

“It’s different with us. We were already bound. I certainly want her right now, but I don’t have to have her. I can do without. But Buffy can’t do without Spike, and I seriously doubt he could do without her, either,” Angel informed the Watcher.

“What are you saying? Is he there now? Damn it, Angel, we trusted you to take care of her!”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing, Watcher! Spike is the best way to take care of Buffy.” Angel slammed the phone down in irritation.

“Angel?” Buffy’s voice called lightly from the bed.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m a little edgy tonight,” Angel apologized.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. Thank you for bringing Spike,” she said, her voice so small it was nearly unheard.

Angel laughed as he took his chair again. “I didn’t bring…”

“Oi!” Spike hollered. “Leave it be, you great lummox.” Spike wasn’t willing to lay his own vulnerabilities out on the table. Mate or not. She was the Slayer and she was a woman. He hadn’t had the best of relationships with either over the years.

“What did Giles have to say?” she asked, turning over in Spike’s arms, luxuriating in the feel and smell of him as he surrounded her. Spike had to bite back a groan. Little twit brushed up against some highly sensitive parts.

“Giles explained the spell that was used on you. On us,” Angel told her.

“Go on,” Spike prodded, wanting to hear it all. He needed to understand what was happening to him.

“The spell did not force you to mate. The spell just got rid of all the extra stuff. Took you down to the basics. It let you act on your true needs and not the needs you have been socialized to accept,” Angel explained. “Does this make sense?”

Buffy gave a tiny shake of her head. “Not so much. I don’t remember anything clearly, but I do remember searching for Spike. I mean it was like I zeroed right in on him. That’s why I attacked Dru. She smelled like him. It made me so angry. Then when I finally got to him I…” she turned again, so this time she was looking up at Spike. There was a look of horror on her face and she pushed away, breaking his hold on her. “Oh, Spike. I’m so sorry.” She scrambled off the bed as quickly as she could go, tripping up in the sheets and landing on the floor as she did so.

Spike was tense. He didn’t know what was going on in that female mind. It usually meant something bad for him. “Sorry for what, Slayer. Giving it up to a soulless vamp? Letting someone so obviously beneath you to pop your cherry?”

Angel gave a low growl, letting the younger vampire know he wasn’t pleased with his harsh words.

Buffy just shook her head as tears pooled up and spilled over in her green eyes. “No,” she sobbed. “Sorry for forcing you. I… I raped you. I’m so sorry. I made you have sex with me and then I bit you. I did it. I claimed you. Obviously, basic Buffy isn’t a very good person.” She started sobbing.

Something in Spike’s heart did a strange thing. It broke loose. Feelings that he’d suppressed for as long as he could remember began to course through his veins. “Oh, kitten,” he said softly as bent down and lifted her back up on the bed. “You did no such thing.” He wrapped her tightly against him. “Didn’t you listen to a word the great Neanderthal said? It was about our true needs. When I ran into that room and saw you and Dru fighting, my first thought was of protecting Dru.” Spike stopped and laughed. “Okay, that’s a lie. My first thought was that the two of you looked right sexy fighting like that, but somewhere in there was the thought to protect Dru. But as soon as you touched me, passed on the mojo, I didn’t even notice Dru. It was all about you. It’s cliché but you can’t rape the willing, and I was very, very willing, Slayer. I didn’t have to reciprocate the bite, but I did. I wanted it, wanted you, as much as you wanted me.”

Buffy hiccupped against his chest as her sobs dwindled away. “Really?” she asked, every one of her teenage insecurities coming to the fore.

“Really,” Spike said as he stole a kiss. “This isn’t easy for any of us. I have to accept the fact that not only did I not want the woman I’ve been with for over a hundred years, but that she clearly didn’t want me either. As soon as you were distracted with me, she high-tailed it out of the factory and found her daddy. I knew I was never her first choice, but that’s not something I can try and explain away no matter how many times I’ve tried for the last several hours.”

Buffy’s eyes got big. “I don’t want Angel.”

Spike laughed. “Just realizing that, are you?”

Buffy nodded. Her whole world view and view of self had just shifted. “Wow. That’s just… wow!”

Spike chuckled again. “You said it.”

Angel got up and grabbed his coat.

“Where you headed, mate?” Spike asked.

“Think I better go talk to Dru,” Angel admitted.

“That you should,” Spike agreed.

Buffy wasn’t jealous in the slightest. In fact, she was relieved that Angel was leaving them alone together. She was pretty sure the item poking her in the stomach was also relieved. Buffy giggled as she made Spike groan by giving a wiggle.

As soon as Angel shut the door behind him, Spike pounced. “Mine!” he growled and proceeded to show her just what he meant.

Chapter 10: Where Do We Go From Here?

“Hey, Dru,” Angel said softly as he came into the bedroom. She was staring down at the empty bed.

“He’s gone to her, then?” she asked, not turning around.

“Yes,” Angel told her. “He didn’t have any choice in the matter. It’s not like a regular claim. It’s different. Something to do with the Slayer.”

“He’ll love her, Angel,” Dru said as she finally turned to him. She had tears streaming down her lovely face. “He’ll love her more than he ever did me in time.” She laughed, bitterly. “I couldn’t love him back the way he wanted. That’s no way for love to grow.”

Angel winced. “I know, my sweet. I’m so sorry for everything. I…”

“Why did you leave?” she asked, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

“Darla made me. Because of the soul,” Angel explained, holding himself back. He wanted so very badly to just go to her and hold her. To forget the loneliness of the last hundred years.

Dru gave him an intense look. “Is that really it? Is it really and truly why you left me?”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “Okay, then. You’re forgiven.” She opened her eyes. “But don’t do it again. I don’t like it, and it makes Miss Edith mock me so.”

Angel smiled back as he gave into his urge and closed the distance between them, pulling her into his embrace. “Think you can live with me like this? I can’t let you kill humans.”

Dru looked up into his brown eyes. “I know, and yes, I can. I can do anything if I’m by your side. I’m yours.”

“Oh, Drusilla. I’ve wasted so much time,” Angel cried.

“Time is something we have plenty of, my darling. Which is good, because it might take me awhile to learn to live like you want me to. Will you be patient with me, daddy?” Drusilla asked worriedly.

“Infinitely, my childe,” Angel promised as he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. “Well, not with everything,” he laughed as he devoured her lips in his own.

Quickly, he had them both naked. Bodies touching. Skin to skin, as it was supposed to be. He hovered a moment just outside of her wet folds, drinking in her beauty. “I love you, Dru,” he declared as he pushed his way inside.

Dru hissed in a breath as she threw her head back. “I love you, too. So much!” she yelled. Then she wrapped her pale legs around him, urging him to push against her harder. “Need you. Need you, Sire,” she growled.

Angel turned her head sharply to the side as he pounded into her. “Mine!” he growled as he savagely bit into her.

“Yours,” she cried as a bruising orgasm took her over.

Angel felt her walls close in on him, and his own release quickly followed. He gave them both a moment to recover and catch their nonexistent breaths. “Gather up your things. I’ll get Spike’s. We have to leave here,” he told her.

“Why? Are we all to stay with you?” she asked.

“It’s not safe here. The Watcher said the Council will try and kill Buffy if they find out what’s happened. I want to take you all somewhere safe. Eventually out of Sunnydale, but for now we’ll go to a place I found. It’s an old mansion. A bit run down at the moment, but I was able to get it cheap. I planned on fixing it up as a surprise for Buffy, but it looks like the surprise is on me,” he said as he captured her lips in a quick kiss.

Drusilla laughed in glee. She loved it when he was like this – playful. He’d never been very playful around Darla. It made Dru glad. She liked to think that she was the only one to bring this side of him out. She gathered up her things and directed Angel to the trunk where Miss Edith still lay. When they had filled it to the brim, they left, abandoning the rest. They dragged the trunk out to Spike’s car and then headed over to the apartment.

“Are you going to be okay around Buffy? With she and Spike being so close?” Angel asked as he opened the door for her and helped her out of the Desoto.

Drusilla gave him a gracious smile. “I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We’ll be like sisters. Somehow I think this one will like me more than the last. Not that Darla was unkind, just… less than patient,” Dru confided.

Angel looked down at the ground as he escorted her to the front door and opened it. “It’s probably a good thing she’s gone. She cared for us in her own way, but it was always about the Master with her.”

“Don’t even say that ugly git’s name!” Spike yelled as the two stepped through the door. He smelled them all over each other. He smiled. He should be jealous, but considering his limp cock was still buried inside of the drop-dead, gorgeous blonde before him, he was feeling anything but. “Everything good then?” he asked.

Angel brought Dru against his chest. “It’s perfect, but we need to leave. You guys get up. Buffy’s stuff is still packed. I need to put my things together and then we have to head out. There’s a new place for us all to hole up for awhile. It should be safe,” Angel told them.

“Safe from what?” Buffy asked sleepily. She sure seemed to be sleeping a lot.

“From the Council,” Angel said as he threw things into a suitcase Dru was holding open for him.

“Oh, that’s right. They’ll want to kill me now,” Buffy mumbled absently as she sat up.

Spike’s demon immediately came out, growling viciously. “What the fuck?”

“It’s Council policy to send an assassin team after claimed Slayers,” Angel explained.

“How the hell would they know?” Spike asked, getting up to help Buffy dress. His angry tone was belied by the gentle way he slipped the shaking girl’s clothes on her.

“Hopefully they won’t. Not for awhile. You know how these things happen, Spike. Eventually, they’ll find out. We have to be prepared. Convince Buffy’s mom it’s okay if she leaves with us. Convince Giles the Hellmouth stood here long before Buffy moved to Sunnydale without it being split wide open. We just need to regroup somewhere safe and make plans,” Angel said, zipping up the suitcase.

“You with us, Angelus? You gonna stay?” Spike asked.

“Yes, childe. I’m with you all the way,” Angel promised.

Chapter 11: Settling In

It was weird and yet it wasn’t. The entire drive over to the new place had a surreal quality that was underlined with a feeling of rightness. Dru sat up front with her daddy. Just as she liked. Spike sat in the back, holding the still adjusting Slayer. Things were not how he liked them to be ordinarily. He hated Slayers. Yet here he was, stroking her hair and giving her the occasional comforting growl. Her coming over was so different than a vampire’s turning. They did their changes while under a cover of death. For Buffy it was a process of life. An occasionally painful, lust driven, violent part of life. It hit him then. He was glad to be witnessing this. To be a part of it. To be the one to bring her into her full Slayerhood.

“We’re here,” Angel said as he pulled the car into a large garage that looked more like an old barn than a place you’d keep automobiles.

Spike looked down at Buffy. “Time to get up, pet. It’s movin’ day.”

Buffy stirred in his arms and let him pull her into a sitting position. She watched languidly as he opened the car door and reached in for her. There was no hesitation. She went right to him. There was some tiny part of her that recognized that she should be horrified. Relying on Spike went against everything she’d ever been taught as both a strong human female and as a strong Slayer. She laughed. She knew something the Council and her mother didn’t. She knew what it was like to really belong to somebody. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t flowers and candy. It was much more like a disease.

Spike scooped the little thing up in his arms. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her now that he’d let himself. Now that he’d tasted her again in every way; knowingly. “What’s so funny, kitten?” he asked as he carried her inside, leaving Drusilla and Angel to bring in the bags.

“You. Me. It’s like I’m sick and you’re the only cure,” she admitted, enjoying the feeling of her hands wrapped around his neck. She couldn’t help leaning in and giving his neck a little nuzzle.

Spike stiffened. “What you gonna do when you’re all better than? Stake me?” He was wondering how he could ever have been so stupid, to believe, if only for a little while, that she would be different than the others.

Horror washed over Buffy, hitting something deep inside of her. “Not even if you begged me,” she growled.

Spike’s arms tightened as he held her against his chest. “You mean that, luv? You staying with us?”

She shook her head against him. “No. I’m staying with you. The others are just a consequence. It’s all about you. That’s what the spell told me. I should have known. That night in the Bronze. I could feel something that night. It was why I was dancing like I was. I was dancing for you. Then outside. Saturday.” She giggled. “Oh, Spike. We’re quite a pair.”

He laughed with her. “Yeah. That we are.” He walked into the mansion and placed her down on a dusty old couch. At least it was red. He sat down beside her, smiling at the way she crawled into his lap. “Knew something was up. Knew I wanted you, but I figured it was pretty much just a lust thing. You’re slightly cute in case no one’s ever told you.”

She tilted her head back, looking up into his blue eyes. “Only slightly?”

Spike smiled, his tongue in his teeth. He let her dangle for a minute as he looked her over. Then he took her face in his hands. “You’re bleedin’ gorgeous and you know it.” He leaned down and kissed her soundly.

“Aren’t you just the most charming things?” Drusilla cooed as she came in with her hands full of bags. “Don’t you agree, my Angel?”

Angel came in and looked at the blonde couple on the couch. “I’m not sure I’d use the term ‘charming’ but they’ll do. Now let’s pick ourselves out some rooms,” Angel commanded.

Everyone immediately set to do as the big vamp requested. It made him feel like he hadn’t felt in a very long time: needed and strong. Angel and Drusilla chose the master bedroom suite, partly because of Miss Edith. Angel knew the doll needed room or she tended to crowd Drusilla’s mind. They brought in their bags and shut the door, but not before Angel reminded Spike and Buffy to be careful. They had no idea what Giles had told the Council if anything.

Spike nodded as he watched his sire shut the door. “Figures they’d take the big one.” He turned and started pushing doors open with his foot. One bedroom in particular caught his eye. It wasn’t particularly large but it had a bathroom with an old fashioned, claw footed tub. “What do you say, ducks? Good enough for the likes of us?”

“I could definitely use a bath,” Buffy replied as she surveyed the bedroom. “And who needs a lot of space? Not like I’m going to let you more than a few feet away from me anyway.”

Spike laughed. “Things really are bloody weird aren’t they, pet?” He reached down and started to unpack their bags.

Buffy walked over to the window and parted the heavy curtains. “I don’t think the sun will hit here much. There are lots of trees. None too close, though. I don’t think anyone could climb one and gain access to the house or anything. We should check that out tomorrow night, though. Maybe do some trimming.” She would have said more but she was suddenly swept off her feet.

“Listen to you nesting. It’s sexy,” Spike said as he threw her on the bed. The rest of the clothes could be put away tomorrow.

Buffy tugged on his arm, causing him to fall down on top of her. “I think you find everything sexy, William.”

“Not everything. That gangly friend of yours. The male. The one Angel offered to share with me. Didn’t find him sexy,” Spike said. “Don’t find those weird flat shoes little old ladies where sexy either. Or any cars accept the Vanden Plaz that were made in the 80s.” He took a fake breath as if to go on.

Buffy put a hand over his mouth. “Okay. Okay. I get it. Enough already. Now pleasure me and hold me while I sleep.”

Spike gave her a wicked grin and leaned in to take a nipple into his mouth, fabric and all, but suddenly there was nothing beneath him. He looked sideways at her retreating figure.

“Just let me close these curtains,” she huffed as she tugged on the dusty old drapes. She stood back, her hand on her hips. “Is that going to do it?”

Spike’s heart cinched. Fuck. He was falling in love with this girl. “Yeah, Buffy. That ought to be fine. I’ll wake up if I start to sizzle.”

She whirled on him. “That’s not funny. I feel… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before. I just have all these feelings, worries and stuff, about you. One moment I want to kiss you, the next I want to ask if you need anything,” she confessed.

Spike held out his arms as he rolled onto his back. “How about if what I really need is just a kiss?”

Buffy bounced on the bed and into his outstretched arms. “That would solve all my problems.” She slipped her tongue into his parted lips, running it along his teeth. His tongue followed suit, and soon both were caressing and nibbling on the other.

“Amazing what just one kiss can do,” Buffy breathed into his mouth.

Spike opened his eyes and looked into hers. “Amazing,” he agreed.

The next day they got up a little after noon. Spike and Buffy spent the following hour in the tub, playing and splashing. When Buffy expressed worry about ‘prunage’, Spike pulled out the stopper. He let her get out of the tub first so he could watch her dry off. Her golden skin and hair were absolutely blinding. He was surprised that just being in the same room with her didn’t burn him. She was sunshine. He was darkness. What business did he have with something so pure?

Buffy could feel a sudden chill in the air. She dropped the towel and turned around. “Spike?” she asked, worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t belong with you. You don’t belong with a bunch of vamps, Buffy. We need to fix you up and get you back home,” he said, refusing to look at her.

Buffy used her Slayer muscles to spring into the tub, straddling it with perfect balance. Her eyes were flashing a golden amber. Her teeth long and sharp. She cocked her head to the side with a low growl in her throat. Then she struck. She bit deep into the side of Spike’s neck, giving it a little shake as she went. “Mine,” she stated as she released him and licked the wounds. She pounced out of the tub, landing gracefully onto the ground and grabbed up her towel.

Spike was frozen. Completely speechless. The otherness that had come over her. It was palpable. The way she moved. The way she sounded. Hell, just the way she’d reacted. There was nothing human about it. A spark began to glow inside his long dead heart. He was thinking that maybe, just maybe, things would work out. That for once he’d get the girl and be able to keep the girl.

“If you’re done with your panic attack, we can head downstairs to talk game with Angel and Dru,” Buffy said saucily as she dropped the towel and flounced out of the bathroom.

“Minx!” Spike hollered after her as he finally found his voice. He hopped out of the tub not nearly with the same level of grace she had and grabbed the discarded towel. There was another towel but it was even dustier than this one. Damp was more appealing than grimy. He dried off quickly, tossing the towel over the tub, and ran into the bedroom to catch her pulling on a pair of jeans. She reached for a top and he growled.

“Don’t you dare!” He stalked over to her and pulled her against him. He bent his head down and sucked in a nipple. “This is going to be one of my favorite outfits on you, luv. I can tell.”

Buffy laughed as she pushed him away. “I can tell, too!” She stared pointedly at his protruding member.

“Gonna do something about that, kitten?” he asked, giving her a sly smile.

Buffy got down on her knees. Without breaking eye contact she licked her lips and then slid them over his rigid cock. She sucked in as she pushed downward, loving the little sound he made in the back of his throat as she took him in.

“Fuck. Oh, Buffy. Slayer. Love. My Buffy. My girl.”

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Fuck off!” Spike yelled.

“Wish I could, darling, but Angel wants us all downstairs. He just got off the phone with the Watcher. I’m afraid it isn’t good news. Miss Edith has spoken as well,” Drusilla called through the still shut door.

Spike gave a terrific sigh as he felt himself slip out of Buffy’s mouth. He turned to find his own clothes as his mate put on hers. “This had better be important,” he whined.

Buffy gave him a sympathetic smile. “I promise to try that again as soon as we get the chance, baby.”

“You’d better,” Spike groused as he opened the bedroom door for her.

Chapter 12: The Council

Spike and Buffy walked downstairs, hand in hand. It seemed to both of them that instead of backing off, the mating claim was growing. Each desperately needed to feel the other as much as possible. Their shoulders brushed, their hips bumped, and as soon as they came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs in front of Angel and Dru, Spike’s arm slipped around Buffy’s waist drawing her flush against his side.

“What’s up?” Spike asked his grand-sire.

Angel had watched them descend. Whatever was happening between them was different than a vampire mating or claiming. It was elemental. Angel realized that the pained feelings of loss he had felt yesterday were completely gone today. He accepted and respected Buffy and Spike’s relationship. He felt a tiny hand slip into his own. He looked down and smiled at Drusilla. Of course, it was much easier to take when he also got the girl. Just not the girl he had been expecting.

“Oy! Gramps! I asked what’s the what?” Spike reminded him, really just wanting to go upstairs and have Buffy finish him properly.

“I spoke with Giles and he’s coming over with Joyce, Willow, and Xander. They all want to see that Buffy is really okay, but I could tell from the Watcher’s tone of voice that there is something more. I don’t know. Just… I got a bad feeling about it,” Angel explained.

Spike’s sexual desire faded into the background as he gripped his mate tightly. “They aren’t taking her away from me.”

Buffy turned so she could wrap her arms around him, scared of the same thing.

Angel shook his head. Spike had seriously changed his tune from Angel’s earlier visit to him in the factory. “No, Spike. That’s not what I’m worried about. It’s obvious looking at the two of you that there is no separating you. Except by death.”

Spike and Buffy both looked at the elder vampire with yellow flashing eyes. “Like hell!” they yelled in unison.

Angel would have laughed if it hadn’t been so serious. “It’s not Giles or Buffy’s friends. It’s the Council. It’s policy to eliminate claimed Slayers. No questions asked,” Angel informed them as he led the tiny group over to the sitting area. Each couple chose an overstuffed chair, leaving the couch for the coming white hats, the females curling up on their mates’ laps.

“How would the Council know?” Buffy asked. “Giles wouldn’t call them.”

Angel looked down at the ground, entirely unsure about that. But then again he knew a lot more about Watchers and their training then the young Slayer did. “I don’t think he did, Buffy, but it is only a matter of time before they find out. The Council is big. Really big. They have offices in London, Spain, Slovenia, China, India, Brazil, and Canada. And operatives in just about every other country and prominent city.”

“Wow,” the Slayer said. “How come they don’t have an office in America?”

“They tried, pet. The Laisez Faire isn’t hands off enough. They still have operatives like Angel said though. Wouldn’t be surprised to find there are a few in Sunnydale, minding the Slayer and the Watcher,” Spike told her.

“That’s creepy,” Buffy said, thinking about all of the times she’d been doing things she probably shouldn’t. Like enjoying the fight. Patrolling with her friends. Arguing with her Watcher. Making out in the cemetery with Angel. She shivered. Funny how that thought now disgusted her.

A knock at the door pulled everyone from their thoughts. Each couple stood up and braced their shoulders. Angel walked over to the door and opened it. “Hello. Come in, everyone.” He stood aside and let the group enter. Then he shut the door and guided them to the sitting area. “Please, sit.” He indicated the empty couch. The four humans sat down on the long red sofa.

“Buffy! You’re holding Spike’s hand. Why is Buffy holding Spike’s hand? I thought this was something that would pass,” Xander cried, turning an accusing eye on Giles.

Giles was also watching the way Buffy was standing beside Spike. He saw much more than the boy did, however. He kept his silence as both master vampires sat down in the armchairs with each female curling into their laps. It was nearly synchronized. Giles got a sick feeling deep in gut. There would be no stopping this. No coming back from where Buffy had gone. Which meant he had no hopes of stopping the Council from killing her.

Xander’s mouth was open. His eyes were dry. He needed to blink. Willow reached over and closed his mouth, slipping her arm into his as a sign of support. “Let’s hear them out, Xander.”

The boy closed his mouth, but glared accusingly at the bleached blonde vampire across from him.

Buffy had enough of Xander real quick. “Stop it,” she said to him. “Stop staring at Spike like that. He didn’t do this. I did. I started this whole thing. I went after Spike, not the other way around. This is my fault.”

Spike liked that she was telling everyone that she’d chosen him, but he wasn’t too keen on the fault thing. “Not anyone’s fault, kitten,” he told her softly as kissed the top of her head. “Well, that wizard’s.” Spike turned in eye on Giles. “He a friend of yours?”

“Yes, he was. I’ll have to find Ethan and deal with him later. We need to concentrate on other things at this point,” Giles said evenly.

“What other things would that be, Watcher?” Spike asked.

“I received a call from an old acquaintance. A friend of my father’s, actually. She said that the Council knew something had happened here in Sunnydale. They are sending the other Slayer tonight to deal with it.” Giles sat back and waited for the fallout.

“What other Slayer?” Joyce surprisingly was the first to speak. “I thought you said there could only be one!”

“There can. Buffy died last year, Joyce. Briefly. Xander brought her back to life. At the time another Slayer was called. The Council didn’t say anything to me about it, but they knew of course. I had reported the drowning in my weekly update to them. They felt no need to interfere and were, in fact, delighted to have two Slayers on their hands,” Giles explained.

“Are there any records of Slayers being brought back to life, Giles?” Angel asked, a thought coming to him.

“No. Buffy is the first,” the Watcher admitted.

“Buffy,” Angel said, turning to her. “Did you feel any different after the Master bit you?”

Buffy felt Spike’s hold on her tighten. He didn’t like talking about anyone but him biting her. She ran a soothing hand over his cheek. “Yes. I felt different. Stronger. More focused on slaying than I had before.”

“What do you mean by ‘more focused’?” Giles asked. He certainly hadn’t seen any evidence of her being more focused.

Buffy buried herself into Spike’s neck. “It was like I needed to kill things. I’d go out patrolling even if I didn’t have to. I’d do it late. Sneak out of my bedroom window. In Los Angeles it was the worst. I didn’t have all of you to ground me. My dad was practically non existent, always at work. So I would tell him that I was meeting up with friends at night, but I was really out walking the streets. Killing things.” Buffy’s voice was barely above a whisper. She was ashamed of her behavior.

“I think it’s safe to say that Buffy’s Slayer side was awakened with her death. Then Ethan’s spell combined with mating herself to a master vampire… Well, she’s in a process of awakening. The Council won’t have it, Buffy,” Giles said. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “What I am about to say doesn’t leave this room. The Council will kill every one of us if they think I told you. Slayers usually die young so it isn’t an issue, but eventually as they get older the Slayer, the demon that makes the Slayer, gets stronger and stronger. If she is not killed by her duties than the Council steps in as soon as the Watcher sees signs that the demon is emerging.” Giles clasped his hands tightly.

“That’s so wrong,” Joyce said quietly, looking at her baby. “Spike. It is Spike, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I want you to take my little girl away from here. I didn’t bring any of her things. I was afraid someone would be watching, but I took the emergency cash I keep hidden in the basement. It’s a little over five thousand dollars. It should get you guys started somewhere. Just take her and go. Keep her safe. You seem to care for her.” Joyce’s voice broke on a sob.

“Oh, mommy,” Buffy cried, slipping off her mates lap and going towards her mother. The presence of others stopped her, however. Her body was loathe to approach them. “Uh, mom? I really need to hug you. Do you think you could step away from the humans?”

Every eye in the room centered on Buffy. “Did I just say humans?” Buffy backed away, suddenly not trusting herself near them.

Joyce wasn’t about to let her distance herself, however. She stood up and purposefully made her way to her daughter. She pulled the trembling girl into her arms. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all going to be okay. You were chosen for a reason. This is your destiny. Not to die young, fighting some demon in a graveyard. Not to be butchered by these Council bureaucrats. Not my girl.” Joyce ran a hand lovingly over her daughter’s face. “I always knew you were something special. You’ve never been like the other kids your age. Even at Hemery where you tried so hard to be one of the gang. I’d catch you in your room, just staring at the walls. It used to break my heart how out of place you were deep inside. Looking at you with Spike, for the first time, you seem to be where you belong. To be who you really are. Other than fat grand babies there isn’t much more a mother could wish for. Go. Be happy. And when you can, when things settle, come get your old mother.”

Spike stood up and walked over to the sobbing women. He wrapped them both in his arms, causing Giles to nearly fall of the couch. “It’s a promise, Joyce. I’ll take care of your girl. I’d die for her. She’s a part of me. When we can, we’ll come for you.”

Joyce only nodded.

Willow and Xander looked on. Everything they’d ever known about vampires was suddenly thrown into question. Their black and white world was now muted with grays.