Reactions & Ruminations sequel to Serpent’s Kiss

Lisa Y Drexel

Takes place immediately after A Serpent's Kiss. Now that the ceremony has been performed and Buffy's back to herself, she finds herself more confused than ever.
BSV note-Remains a WIP and most likely will not be updated 

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A pleasant familiar thrumming filled her mind as Buffy slowly woke up. Yawning softly, her eyes fluttered open to find herself looking down at a pale hand with black fingernails cupping her bare breast.

"What the..." she whispered, feeling her body tense at the realization she was in bed with Spike. How the hell did that happen? she asked herself when suddenly the memories of the night before flooded her mind.

The claiming, she thought to herself, as flashes of the night's activities ran through her mind. Angel and Spike...her and Spike...the bites...the words...the ritual...

Spike's hand suddenly began to knead her breast, causing her nipples to stiffen. Her sex tingled in excitement as she felt his hard cock press against her buttocks. Before she could even think of a protest, he lifted her leg and slipped inside of her, all the while suckling on her neck.

Moaning softly, she pushed herself against him—forcing him deeper inside of her—all the while promising herself that she would talk to him later about this...about them.

It just felt too good to stop.

His hand dropped from her hip to her clit and began to slowly roll it in between his fingers as he began to drive himself inside of her.

Spiraling out of control, she barely felt his fangs as they sunk into her neck, causing her to scream as she fell over the edge. She squeezed his cock with her muscles—pushing him into his own climax as he pulled his mouth from her neck and groaned softly.

Panting with exertion, Spike pulled out of her and rolled her over onto her back, settling in between her legs as he licked her bite marks, purring softly.

Buffy's mouth dropped open.

He was purring. The only time she had ever heard Angel purr was the night of her seventeenth birthday. Smiling to herself, she could remember the shock and wonder she had felt at the low rumble coming from her lover's chest. When she had finally found the courage to ask him what was going on, he had dropped his head and if he had been human, Buffy would have thought he had been actually blushing.

After a few moments, he had finally lifted his head and deep brown eyes met hers—filled with love—and he gave her a huge, pure smile before he spoke. "Most of the time, purring happens between sire and childe—there's a sense of trust, contentment—a type of love—where you know that there's no where else in the world you'd rather be...that's how I feel about you," he admitted softly. Buffy remembered crying at his words as the joy of their union filled her. To know that he—the soul—held her in as high of a regard as the demon did of his sire, killed any doubts she had about their love. It didn't matter that he was a vampire and she was the slayer—their love would conquer all...

And now, over two years later, she had made another vampire purr, and just like the time with Angel, the ramifications of such an act hit her...to know that she was that important to Spike...

That his feelings for her were nearly as strong as Angel's were...

Her eyes stung at the implications.

How could she do this? To Spike, to herself or even to Angel? In the space of a day, she managed to break Angel's heart, fulfill Spike's heart's desire and make herself a complete and total quagmire of confusion.

"Sounds like a good Buffy day," she whispered sarcastically to herself as she ran her fingers through Spike's hair.

When he didn't respond, she bent her head down to see if she could take a peek at his face; realizing that their positions prevented her from doing so, she began to softly speak his name.

Still purring, Spike didn't respond.

"Put him right back to sleep," she muttered to herself, letting her head fall back onto the pillow behind her in frustration.

The need to talk and understand everything that had happened the night before grew—nearly overwhelming her. She was worried about Angel, instinctively knowing that he was no longer in Sunnydale; she couldn't feel his presence.

Her eyes widened at that thought. I can't feel his presence? Since when have I felt Angel's presence further away than five-hundred yards?

Never, she answered herself.

Matter-of-fact, when had she ever been able to feel Angel, so-to-speak? With a soul, he never triggered her spider-sense like all other vampires did. That's why she had been shocked that night when he had first kissed her and slipped into his game face; she hadn't a clue that he was a vampire until that very moment. And afterwards, she could remember dozens of times when she had silently agreed with Xander's remarks about getting Angel a bell so he couldn't sneak up on them, because she didn't sense him either—and hadn't been able to until he lost his soul.

Then, like all the other vampires, Angelus had tweaked her slayer-sense.

And once he was returned from Hell with a soul, he fell back into the not-able-to-sense category until graduation...

Unitl he had drank from her.

"Son-of-bitch," she whispered, clenching her fist in anger as the surge to hit something overcame her. The answer had always been there—right underneath her nose and she hadn't a clue. Instead, Buffy ignored the signs that something had changed between them—wallowing in sea of self-pity in its stead.

The claim is what changed things...

It had to be that. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and began using those slayer mediation skills that Giles had taught her long ago, in attempt to find out if something had changed inside of her.

Maybe if you'd done this a year ago, we would've been in this position in the first place, that smart-ass part of herself snapped.

But even as she felt the connection between her and Spike—seeing it with her mind's eye—the tight rope-like tether that coiled out from her stomach to his—she knew that wasn't true. There had been nothing she could've done other than letting Angel die the year before to have prevented this mess.

And that she knew, even as she studied the stark effects of the claim in her mind's eye, she knew she wouldn't have done anything differently; Angel then and now, was too important to lose.

Plus, after hearing about the prophecies of Aberjian, she could only shrug at the events that had happened the year before. It had been written about—prophesized—that Angel would survive at least long enough to begin his journey to Shanshu...and if that were true, then couldn't it have been said that it had been her fate to find herself right where she was right now?

Groaning softly, she shook her head in denial—a part of herself hating the the situation she found herself in. It was almost as if she was letting go the last vestiges of her normal, human life—the girl she had been before Merrick had told Buffy of her destiny...

Before vampires, Lothos and her parent's divorce—when all she ever wanted was a good-looking guy to share the rest of her life with.

The normal life she had striven for—dreamed of—fought for—was all but gone. Being the slayer made it almost impossible to be considered normal. But she had tried, for herself, her mother, her friends…but most of all for Angel, who had given up his chance of being with her so that she could achieve that normalcy she had once hoped for. But how could anyone be connected to a soulless demon, live forever, and be considered normal by any stretch of the imagination? Even if that soulless demon was in love with her and would do anything for her?

There would be no picket fences or 2.3 kids for her.

There would be no normal things—such as paying the mortgage or having a life that wasn't filled with demons and vampires—not when she was bound to one herself.

At least with Angel it was different; after all, he had a soul. He had enough human-ness in him that she could pretend. But with Spike, there would be no play-acting involved.

He was a demon, albeit a vampire that could love, but still he was and probably always would be a soulless vampire. He lived for violence, death and blood, and since that the chip was gone, it would only be a matter of time before he would lose control.

And now, if she staked him, the claim would shift to Dru or Angel and suddenly she was back where she had been the night before—screwed.

Buffy knew that he wanted to placate her—keep his killings to those that slipped through the short arms of the law, but she wasn't as reassured as he would like her to be. She knew him. Although she had been somewhat cruel towards Spike for the past year—Buffy had still been reeling from his harsh words that day they fought over the Gem—that didn't mean she hadn't known how hard his life had been for the past seven months. To have everything that he had held dear, ripped so cruelly away from him, nearly destroyed the blond vampire. If Willow hadn't been there that night five months before, Buffy had no doubt Spike would've gone through with his suicide attempt.

If she had been in his shoes, she probably would've done the same thing. She remembered what it felt like to be helpless and unable to defend herself--to be prey to all those who were stronger and more able than her. How normal humans tolerated it, she would never know. She could never live her life like that and if by chance those drugs that the Council gave her hadn't worn out, she would've killed herself.

Of that she was sure.

Maybe not right off, but eventually she would have been in the same spot Spike was five months before.

"Pet, are you ever going to turn that bloody brain of yours off?" Spike asked her, his words brushing against her neck seductively.

She snorted softly, ignoring the thrilling chill that swept through her body and ran her fingers through his hair. "Excuse me if my re-evaluating my life has disturbed you, oh master-of-mine."

Snickering, Spike lifted his head and grinned down at her. "You better remember it, ducks," he said right before planting a gentle kiss on her lips. Rolling off of her, he sat up and tugged her languid body over to rest on top of him. Resting her chin on his chest, she watched as he lit a cigarette—following the billow of smoke that came from his mouth as it floated upwards. "So love, what did you figure out with this brainstorm of yours?"

Placing her cheek on his bare chest, she sighed in resignation. "You want a list?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well, one, I noticed that the bond is stronger with us than it ever was with Angel. I can only assume that it's because we had sex..."

"Twice."

She nodded. "Twice. Which means, somehow or other, the claim's strength is reinforced by not only biting, but by sex—which is unfortunate, because I want you now more than I ever did before."

"Forgive me if I don't think that's a bad thing..."

"Well, maybe you should," she whispered ignoring the persistent sting in her eyes. "I mean, how can I sort through my feelings about everything—when this urge to be with you is over-riding it all?" she said, sniffling. "As ironic as this sounds coming from me, I want to be fair to you," she paused, glancing up at him, inwardly noting that his eyes hardened as he pursed his lips. "And right now, I'm not sure if I am. I still love Angel. There's a part of me that still gets all gushy when I think of him. And not to mention Riley. Even though I basically pushed him as far away from me as possible without breaking up with—I still need to settle things with him. And you? I don't know what is real and what's because of the claim!"

Spike growled softly, angrily stubbing out his cigarette. "Slay—Buffy, I knew this—even before the ritual. I accept this," he said as he tugged on her arm, pulling her up to him.

"How can you?" she asked, still unable to look him in the eye. He was willing to give everything to her, and yet she still held back. Embarassment and shame swept through her.

Why was he doing this for her? Why didn't it make a difference to him?

"Because I meant what I said last night. I think you'll fall in love with me—given time. All the ingredients are already here," he said, placing his cool hand on her chest over her heart. "If you just turned that bloody brain of yours off and let things be, you would find that I'm right."

"I wish I had your faith," she whispered, turning back to face him. She looked up into his dark blue eyes and sighed softly at the love she saw in them. How did she miss that before? All those months of them fighting viciously—taunting one another—and the whole time he was in actuality, falling deeply in love with her...

How did she not see it?

And if she had realized his feelings at the time, would things have been different? Would it have made a difference to her if she had known that Spike loved her?

"God," she muttered, her eyes shutting against the intensity she saw in Spike's eyes. "I don't know what to do," she told him as she laid her cheek on his cool chest.

His arms tightened around her as his cool fingers skimmed her hot skin, saying nothing but silently protecting her...

Could she grow to love this vampire? She asked herself, feeling her body begin to warm under his attentions. Could she even come close to feeling for him what he seemed to feel for her? Inwardly groaning, she tried searching for the answer inside of her—knowing that they—the conclusions—like everything else as of late, were going to be elusive.

What she really needed was a Willow-talk. Or even a mom-talk, she decided as she felt Spike begin kissing her heating brow—sending welcoming tendrils of arousal throughout her body.

God, she thought to herself as she began kissing his chest. Her fingers lightly flicked his hardened male nipples, I could really get used to this...

Even as Spike flipped them over and began to pepper kisses along the length of her jaw to her neck, she knew she should stop this before the claim grew even stronger.

But her will faltered as her body started to sing under his amorous attentions—loving the feel of his lips on her nipples...his cool fingers as they made love to her...his hard cock as it slipped so deeply inside of her, she swore it touched her soul...

Helpless, she thought to herself. I'm as helpless now as I was before...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearly noon before Buffy could slip out of bed and get dressed. As she pulled on her shorts, she hissed softly at the sore ache in her muscles and blushed at its implications.

Five times.

She couldn't believe it.

They did it five times last night. That meant four of those times was just plain desire—no claim-induced frenzy—no wild hormones flying about—no nothing accept one naked Spike and one naked Buffy and a bond that grew with each coupling.

Five times.

Groaning to herself, she shook her head—wishing she could stop the raging lust she felt simmering in her blood—but she knew it was hopeless.

It was the claim.

Every time he drank from her—every time they made love—the bond just grew. Who knew how strong it would get? God, I need answers, she thought to herself as her eyes began scanning the room vainly in search of any of the artifacts that Angel had brought to perform the ceremony, thinking maybe Giles would recognize them.

Unfortunately, Angel had taken them with him when he returned to LA.

Spike had finally succumbed to exhaustion and was now curled up around the pillow Buffy had been previously using, as if it were an adequate replacement for her own warm body.

She grinned at that thought, remembering how she used to sleep with the leather jacket Angel had given her when the pain of missing him was so intense, she wondered if she would ever sleep again.

But like all things, Angel missage seemed to lessen with the passage of time. Even before the dreams, Buffy had noticed that she had gotten accustomed to her life without the souled vampire.

She never liked it, but she had grown used to it.

That was probably why those dreams shook her so much. Just when she felt as if she had a handle on all her emotions, she began to dream of him, and even worse, Angelus.

It was almost too much for her to handle.

And now, three months later, everything had once again changed—irrevocably.

Groaning silently at the direction her thoughts were taking her, she pulled on her shirt and went over to the bed to sit next to Spike's sleeping body.

At first, she had planned on sneaking away and returning before the sun had set, but as soon as that thought entered her mind, she felt a sharp tug on the bond, and knew she would have to wake him before leaving.

"Spike," she whispered, gently shaking his bare shoulder.

Almost immediately, the blond vampire's eyes blinked drowsily as he lazily rolled over to face her. "Pet?" he whispered, his eyebrows creased in confusion.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm heading off to home," she said, not surprised to see the frown on his face. But what she wasn't prepared for was the sharp shot of panic that she felt as it stabbed her heart. "Don't worry, I'm coming back," she said softly as she leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. "And if I don't, just tug on the bond and I'm sure I'll come running..."

Understanding flooded his eyes as he nodded. "You need to talk to someone, don't you? The witch?"

She felt her throat close as her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I need to understand what's going on," she whispered, unable to hide the desperation in her voice. "Willow's definitely the one at the top of the list, but Giles or my mom will do in a crutch..."

She felt his fingers gently clasp her chin, tugging it downwards. She opened her eyes, shocked to see empathy in them—a feeling she would've never associated with Spike before. How? She asked herself, knowing that this was just one more thing to add to the long list of questions she needed answered.

"It goes both ways, pet—the bond," he said, chuckling softly. "Maybe that's why they always told us not to do this," he said, his head falling back onto the mound of pillows behind him. "You know who might know more about this than any of us?"

"Who?"

"Anya—"

Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes at the suggestion. Anya infuriated Buffy to no end, but at the same time, amused her beyond belief...

"No, hear me out, pet. The bint's been around a long time and has seen more than any of us. Who's to say that she hasn't had to deal with claims before?" Buffy could feel his eyes on her as she stared unseeingly at the bedspread in front of her. "If you don't, I will," he added cautiously.

She finally looked up and met his gaze, sighing inwardly at the tug her soul felt just being with him. "Okay, I'll talk to Anya, then Willow," she conceded.

Grinning, his eyes closed as a look of pure satisfaction crossed his face, knowing he had won this round.

"Asshole," she whispered seconds before kissing his cheek.

"Bitch," he muttered back right before he reached up and grabbed her face—returning her kiss, but on her lips. He seemed to realize things could easily heat up—despite the numerous times they had already made love that night and morning—and pulled away. "Hurry back, pet," he whispered against her lips, nipping on her bottom lip playfully.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back and stood up, ignoring the flushed feeling coursing through her blood. "I will," she said, and quickly fled the room before she ended up naked in his bed once again.

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Chapter Two

"What do you know about claims?" Buffy blurted out as her eyes fluttered around Anya's tastefully decorated home. Where does she get the money? the slayer asked herself, recognizing wealth when she saw it.

"Claims? What kind of claims? Claims that higher demons make on lower ones? Claims that higher demons make on each other? Claims—"

"Claims that vampires make on humans," Buffy said, stopping Anya's verbal dissertation, as she watched a flicker of irritation cross the former demon's face at being interrupted.

Anya's brown eyes widened in realization as she step closer to Buffy and slowly circled the slayer—as if Buffy were a specimen underneath a microscope. "So, that's what happened," the other woman whispered softly. "I could sense that something changed within you—"

"What!?" Buffy felt her body tense as if she were readying herself for battle. "You could tell? And you didn't say anything?" Buffy yelled out as she felt a month's worth of frustration begin to bubble forth.

Anya rolled her eyes, obviously unaffected by Buffy's outburst and just stared at the slayer pointedly. "And why would I? Most people know when they’re bitten by a vampire...are you saying you didn't know? And you're a slayer? God, we're in a lot—"

"Anya! Of course I knew when I was bitten," Buffy snapped, inwardly wondering what it was that Xander found so appealing about a 1200-year-old demon walking around in a 19-year-old body. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and speak rationally. "I just didn't know I was claimed."

"Angel?"

Buffy nodded stiffly, feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment as she thought about what the other woman said. Anya was right. Buffy should've known. She should've been able to tell the difference between her Angel-sense and her claim-sense. Now that she could almost feel Spike inside of her, looking back at the past year, she realized the connection that she had felt with Angel had changed since he had bitten her—she just didn't pay any attention to it. She had been so overwhelmed by him being gone—leaving her alone to face the world of slayer and college—that she had mentally ignored all the signs.

What a fool she had been.

"Xander mentioned that—that he bit you last year..."

"I forced him to do it. He was dying," Buffy said softly as she fell onto the couch, closing her eyes against the memories. "You would've done the same thing," Buffy said, unable to hide the defensive tone in her voice.

"Yep," Anya said, sitting down next to her. "There is no way I would let Xander die. All those wonderful orgasms would just disappear. Can't have that," Anya said, seriously. "Besides, he's mine and it would hurt," she added softly.

Simple and direct, thought Buffy. Maybe I can see what Xander sees in her. "Yeah, it would hurt."

Buffy heard the former demon take a deep breath, and glanced over to her side in time to see Anya straighten her shoulders and face Buffy. "I had a client that wished that her vampire lover and she would switch places. She was claimed. I didn't normally take demon cases, but I made an exception with that one."

"Why? Why the exception?"

Anya smiled, her eyes distancing as she thought back to a time years ago. To have such a long life and look back at it with such different eyes, Buffy thought to herself.

"Because he deserved it. Demon or not—he was an asshole. He kept telling her that he loved her—fed all these false feelings through their bond to her and then used her blatantly. And the worst part about it was that she knew they were false feelings, and yet, she still loved him. Such rage. She nearly wished for him to be defanged, but then she thought of a reversal instead...make her the claimer and he, the claimee..."

"Did she stay human?"

Anya shook her head. "No, I made her a minor demon with some magical abilities. She kept her human form—to appeal to him—but instead of the brute force he used, she wielded some nasty magic to keep him in line. It was quite humorous," Anya added helpfully.

"What about the claim. What did you find out about it?" Buffy asked, ignoring the moral of the tale Anya just told her: don't ever trust a vampire.

Like I have a choice, she thought to herself. I’m bound to him for the rest of his life...

Anya sighed dramatically. "You have to be bitten at least once a year by him or members of his vampire family..."

"I know that. I also know you can pass on the claim—in a ritual—to another member of the same blood. And that the claim is strengthened if physical intimacy is involved. And finally, that the human will be compelled to follow not the vampire that did the claiming, but his family as well as time runs out," Buffy said, not able to meet Anya’s curious gaze.

"Spike, huh?"

Buffy felt her heart take off at the sound of his name and nodded once. "But here's what we don't know. What else is going to happen? Are my feelings real or are they claim-induced? Does it make a difference if the vampire loves the human? Once the claim has been renewed, either by it being passed on or by being bitten, will I still be threatened by other members of the same blood? And not to mention if the claim has been passed on, will I now feel connected to those of the second holder's blood—his childers?"

Anya's eyebrow arched as a small smirk crossed her face. "So, Spike didn't just bite you, he took over the claim."

Sighing in defeat, Buffy nodded and began telling Anya everything that had happened in the last day, silently wondering how many times she was going to have to tell this story before she and Spike had the answers they needed.

"All I know is about the bond," Anya said softly with a bit more compassion than Buffy thought she had. "You're right—it does get stronger with physical intimacy and biting. It finally ends up leaving the two with almost a lopsided telepathic link. Lopsided meaning the vampire holds most of the power." Anya sighed as she leaned back. "If Spike loves you, then I wouldn't be too worried. But if he doesn't or if Drusilla comes back, it could be very dangerous for both you and the world, considering you're the slayer."

Buffy could only groan in agreement. She hated hearing it from Anya, but it wasn't anything she hadn't thought of herself. The only shining light in the whole ordeal was Angel's trust in Spike as well as the younger vampire's feelings towards Buffy.

Everything else about it just plain sucked.

"What about Dru? And Spike's childers?"

"You'll be safe from them, unless the claim isn't renewed frequently. The more times he bites you and has sex with you—the stronger the bond becomes between you two—making it nearly impossible for even members of the same blood to break it. But if he lets it lapse—even a month—Dru or one of his childer could very well hold you in somewhat of a thrall."

"Oh God, I didn't want to hear that!" Buffy moaned softly. Just the mere thought of Drusilla holding any sort of power over her made the slayer's stomach curl in disgust. "Thank God, Darla's dead," Buffy muttered softly.

"Darla? You mean the master's favorite childe, Darla?" Anya asked, her interest once again peaked.

"Yeah, that Darla. She was Angel's sire. She's been dead for over three years now."

Anya chuckled, unable to hide the wonder in her voice. "Boy, you sure know how to pick them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Take two, Buffy thought to herself as she ascended the steps to her best friend's home. After she took a deep breath, she lifted her hand and held it over the doorbell—feeling almost as if she were dreaming the whole thing.

Anya's words were still haunting her...enthralled...bound...telepathic link with Spike and him in the driver's seat...

And then there was Angel. God, Buffy hadn't even dared to touch on her feelings towards the love of her life...her now very long life, she silently amended.

A part of her wanted to rage against him—for doing something that was so injurious that she couldn't even put it into words...and another part of her felt broken—as if a part of her soul had been ripped out and replaced with a living, evolving bond with his irascible childe.

How could she mourn for Angel's loss when that pain had been replaced with pleasure? And how could she allow herself to trust her heart as it warmed towards Spike when Buffy had no idea if the feelings she was experiencing were real or not?

Groaning, she thumped her forehead with the heel of her hand as if it would actually push the tension headache that had formed an hour before out of her head.

Too much, she thought to herself. It was just too much for her already weary brain to comprehend. Too much of her just wanted to run back to the mansion and jump into bed with Spike—ignoring the myriad of questions that were continuously plaguing her...

Damnit! she yelled at herself, resolutely depressing the doorbell. No more—not until I talk to Wills!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Claimed?" Willow asked, her voice taking on a nervous, but knowing squeak.

"You've heard of it?" Buffy asked as she turned to face her blushing friend.

Willow bit her bottom lip and nodded once. "You could say that. I read something of it in one of Giles' 'forbidden' books when I was looking for some spells last year."

"And?"

Shuddering, Willow took a deep breath and met Buffy's worried gaze. "And, it's not good."

"I know that!" Buffy said, shooting up from her spot on Willow's bed and began pacing frantically in front of them. "Tell me something that I don't know! Tell me that there's a ritual of sorts to break the bond before I find myself totally and completely besotted with Spike...ignoring five years of training on how vampires are bad...before I totally let go of Angel." She paused, her eyes shutting at that thought. "And finally, tell me that there's something I can do before I end up spending all my free time making whoopee with Spike. Wills, we did it four times after the ceremony before he finally fell asleep—exhausted!"

Willow's mouth quirked and Buffy could tell her friend was desperately trying not to laugh. "You wore him out!" she finally blurted out in between soft chuckles.

"Not funny, Wills," Buffy snapped as a grin curled her lips. Closing her eyes, she shuddered uncontrollably. "A part of me can't believe it! He loves me, Wills—it's incredible—outrageous! He looks at me the way we used to moon about when we saw him with Dru. That same look is directed at me now!" Her eyes closed as she saw in her mind's eye his face looking down at her—blue eyes darkened with passion as love as he repeated the words of the ritual. He loves me! "And I find myself wanting to just give in and return it! How could I not? And then I think of Angel and all these—these— feelings come forth and I just want to scream!

"How could he do this to me!" Buffy screamed out as all the frustration of the past month came bubbling forth. "I risked my life to save him—my blood—and he does this to me!"

This was worse than him losing his soul—or leaving her to move to LA—this claim changed everything. And the worst thing about it was Buffy had no idea where to direct her anger: Angel—for letting his demon out because the soul was too much of wuss, or herself—for forcing the issue when she had no idea that possible consequences of her actions, or Faith—for shooting the poisoned arrow that started the whole mess, or even fate—which gave her this destiny, brought her Angel and let her fall in love with a vampire.

The whole thing just sucked.

Willow jumped off the bed and ran in front of her friend, reaching out to steady the slayer. Grabbing her forearms, she shook her lightly, forcing Buffy to look at her. "Buffy, he didn't know. Angel didn't know," Willow said softly, her green eyes staring at the slayer imploringly.

Buffy felt something inside of her break at Willow's words. Tears streamed down her face and she fell into her friend's waiting arms. As Buffy's chest shook with a desperation that she hadn't felt since Angel told her he was leaving a year before, the blond knew that her friend was right. She'd known that since the night before, but it had been so much easier to blame Angel. He was there—available—to feel her wrath, unlike his demon which was scurried away in the cage the curse had built for it.

It wasn't until the tears stopped, did Buffy realize the significance of her outburst. And it once it hit her, she couldn't stop the giggles that bubbled forth, filling her with a mirth that she didn't know she could feel.

Laughing, Buffy stepped away from Willow and fell on top of the bed, her body bent as she held her aching stomach.

At first, Willow just stared at her friend open-mouthed, with a look of fear flittering across her pixie features.

All Buffy could do was laugh harder at the sight.

She couldn't believe it. Since the moment she had woken up the first time hours before in Spike's arms, she had felt lost in a sea of confusion—unsure of her feelings—wondering what was real and what wasn't, and the answer had always been there—inside of her, if she had bothered to look. Of course she still loved Angel. With all her heart—despite her rising feelings towards Spike. She wouldn't be so upset with the ensouled vampire if she weren’t still in love with him.

Only the people she let in her heart had the power to break it.

Looking up at Willow, she wasn't surprised to see the redhead begin to laugh as well as she laid down beside Buffy.

After nearly five minutes, the laughed subsided leaving a completely befuddled Willow in its wake. "And you're a happy Buffy now because...?" Willow asked in between chuckles.

Snorting softly, Buffy shook her head and rolled over onto her stomach, looking down at her friend. "Not happy. I just realized how crazy this is. I was so afraid I didn't love Angel anymore, that it didn't even occur to me until I started crying, that of course I still loved him."

"I could've told you that, Buffy," Willow said, her eyes twinkling at Buffy. "But—"

Sighing, Buffy nodded knowingly. "I know. I know. The claim. Drusilla. Being tied to Spike for the rest of my now long, long life..."

"Angel."

"Angel." Wipe her face, Buffy stared up at the ceiling and silently wondered if anything would ever be all right again. "And telepathy...the bond that gives Spike—Spike of all vampires—an incredible amount of power over me."

Buffy suddenly pictured Giles' face when she told of this newest addition to her unorthodox ways as a slayer and started giggling softly at the thought.

"What's so funny now?" Willow asked, exasperation lacing her voice.

"Giles."

"Oh boy, he's going to cluck his tongue at this!"

"I see lots of clucking in the future," Buffy added softly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Three

Giles looked across the table at the young woman sitting in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again and finally just sighed loudly.

"Giles, say something," Buffy urged, watching him as he took off his glasses and polished them for the fifth time in nearly as many minutes. "Anything! Yell. Scream. Tell me you're disappointed in me...tell me that you forgive me...tell me that you—you don't want to—to—to be—b—be my Watcher a—any—anymore...just say something," she said, begging softly as her eyes filled with tears.

God, she was scared. More scared than she had had been when she had faced the Master, or sword-fought with Angelus...almost as terrified as she had been when she realized that she would have to send Angel to hell...

To lose Giles would kill her.

"Oh dear," he whispered as he slipped his glasses back onto his face. "So—so this was what I sensed in the dream?"

Buffy nodded.

"Why didn't you say something?" He asked, his voice rising slowly. "I have repeatedly told you that I must know about your dreams. How can I protect you if you don't tell me everything?"

Buffy felt her face flush in a strange mixture of embarrassment and shame. Embarrassment for the content of her dreams and shame because once again, she let down her Watcher.

"Well?"

"Giles," Willow said, laying her hand on the older man's arm. "What would she have said? 'Giles, I've been having erotic dreams about Angelus, Spike and Drusilla?' Yeah right," the young witch snorted sarcastically. "Like any of us would share that little bit of information."

"Willow, if you would please refrain from interrupting—"

"Giles, she's right," Buffy whispered, interrupting him herself. "If it had been anything else, I would've told you!" Her voice getting louder as she began pleading her case. "I swear, I haven't been holding back on you when it comes to my dreams...but these? They were different. There was nothing prophetic about them. And half of the time—most of the time—I didn't even remember them—until hours later when a flash would hit me—and it was enough for me not to blush like a virgin at whatever I remembered! They were intense, Giles. Detailed. Enthralling..."

Buffy could feel her body warming at just the memories and inwardly groaned as she felt the bond tweak in response. "Great, he's up," she whispered, her head falling down on the table. Sighing loudly, she lifted her head enough to rest her chin on her hands. "Would you have been able to do anything? If I had said anything?"

He clenched his jaw, staring off to the side of the room. "Unfortunately, there isn't anything to be done, Buffy. A claim is forever," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "They warn us about this...the Council. If your Slayer gets bitten by a vampire and survives, they recommend that you call the them and they'll send a retrieval team to take care of the matter," Giles spat out, disgust lacing his voice. "There was a Slayer once—who had been claimed. She, with the help of her master, nearly decimated the entire council back in the 15th century."

"Oh my Goddess," Willow whispered, horror lacing her voice.

Buffy's eyes closed, but not before a few tears leaked out of her eyes. "That poor girl—to be compelled to go against everything she believed in..."

"Well, yes," Giles agreed, pushing back his chair and standing up. "A tragic situation all the way around." He walked into the kitchen and seconds later Buffy could hear him filling his tea kettle with water as her mind kept envisioning what it would've been like to be that Slayer.

To still have a soul and be forced to commit atrocities in the name of a vampire master that most likely she despised. *At least Spike loves me,* she thought to herself, desperately trying stave off the terror she felt. "What happened to her, Giles?"

"Who? The Slayer?"

"Yeah, the Slayer and the vamp."

He returned back to the dining room and leaned against the counter separating the rooms. "The details are sketchy, but from what we gathered from various sources was that she killed herself once the claim had been renewed—"

"Oh my God. And the vampire? What happened with him?" Buffy asked, easily picturing herself in the same position. That's what she would've done...

"She was in a similar situation to yours. She had no idea that she had been claimed until a few days before it would have been imperative that the claim be renewed," Giles informed them as he sat down with his cup of tea.

"So, instead of renewing the claim, the vampire compelled her to do all those things. Am I getting that right, Giles?"

He nodded once, staring into his drink. "The vampire that held her claim did this on purpose. He wanted to destroy the Council and had come up with an ingenious plan to do just that." He paused for a moment, and finally looked up and met Buffy's horrified gaze. "What he didn't count on was the reciprocal feelings he had once the claim had been renewed. From what we gathered, he had planned to keep her. She was a beautiful, innocent young girl and it appealed to his demon-nature to sully such a fine example of goodness. Instead, she corrupted him. Her feelings of guilt and horror, became his own. They killed themselves—together.

"She slit her wrists, laid in his arms, and together they greeted the sun."

Buffy suddenly pushed back her chair and stumbled out of it as her mind reeled with implications of the story. *That's what he meant about it going both ways,* she thought to herself, remembering Spike's earlier words. "Right before I left, Spike said something about it going both ways and, that maybe this was why they—sires, master-vampires—always tell the childer not to take on a claim."

Giles nodded solemnly. "He's most likely right."

"What am I going to do, Giles?" Buffy whispered out the question as she hugged herself—needing to give her tired body and soul some comfort. "I'm sure Angelus knew all this...that's why he did it."

She heard her Watcher stand up and walk behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "If what you say is true about Spike's feelings, then we don't have to worry about this—"

"But, it's Spike, Giles," Buffy said, turning around to face him. "No matter what his feelings are for me, he's still a soulless demon, who now has no chip to keep him in line!"

"He has you," Willow said, stepping up to the pair as she laid her hand on Buffy's arm. "Just like Giles and Spike said, it goes both ways."

Buffy looked over at Willow and Giles, unable to hide the doubt that clouded her features. Whom she didn't trust, Buffy had no idea. The Slayer part of her, feared the strength and need inside of herself—that wanted to believe in Spike and the woman in her—loved the feeling of being wanted, needed and desired—which was exactly what Spike gave to her.

Therein lay the problem.

Every time Buffy chose her heart over her Slayer instincts, disaster followed. Even with Riley—that need to be the normal girl that Angel wanted her to be—to have the sun, love, and intimacy that had been withheld from her when she had been with Angel—had been a choice that her heart had made, not her mind.

Even as she felt the tug of her bond begin to tug at her—compelling her to seek out Spike—she couldn't help but wonder what awful thing was going to happen to her and her friends if she accepted the vampire's place in her heart.

It wouldn't be good—of that she was sure.

***

Spike grabbed a cigarette and lit it, blowing out a lung full of smoke as he thought about the Slayer and the influx of feelings that were bombarding him: fear, trepidation, relief, need, want, desire, caring, warmth...all of them swirling inside of her, scrambling to try to get top billing—demanding to be heard.

It was enough to give him a bloody headache.

After nearly 200 years as a demon, he was finally getting a front row seat on the intricacies of human emotions, and it was not a lesson he had counted on relearning. That was part of the allure and beauty of losing your soul. You could basically pick and chose which emotions you wanted to feel. And with William, the only one that he had fought hard to keep was love.

Love gave him a reason to live beyond the senseless need to kill and destroy that his demon enjoyed. As long as he loved his sire, he would do anything to please Angelus. It also gave him a sense of power—beyond his demon into his self or whatever one calls the personality imprint that remains after you are turned.

It made him different.

As the years turned into decades, his emotions grew. After love, came fear. Not the usual type of fear—the fear of death or of the unknown—but the kind of fear that eats at you—spurring a whole slew of other, unwanted emotions.

And all of that because he feared being alone. He feared spending an eternity alone in this mortal world with no one near him that understood who Spike was. It was that fear and need for love, that made him frantically hang on to Dru after Angelus had abandoned them. It was also that fear, that kept Spike by his dark princesses side after Prague—that forced him to search out his sire and had finally brought him to Sunnyhell.

All for naught, he thought to himself as he could feel the Slayer's unease wrap its way around his heart. Drusilla was gone—claiming he had gone too soft for her. After nearly a year apart, Spike could finally understand why she would think that. Although he was a cruel and vicious vampire, he also was a gentle, caring lover.

Dru, in all her complex, maddening thoughts, couldn't resolve the dichotomy that resided in her lover.

Turning his attention to the Slayer, he closed his eyes and began concentrating on her—picturing her, naked, eyes closed in ecstasy—shuddering underneath him—and almost immediately he could see her in his mind's eye as she stood out in the sun—in front of her mother's home—glaring at her mother's car, a Suzuki Sidekick...

*She's home,* thought Buffy as she took a deep breath in a hopeless attempt to calm her raging emotions.

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Spike tugged on the bond—snapping her out of her thoughts. He could feel her whole body tense in reaction as she inwardly cursed Spike, mentally calling him a few things that not only he had no idea she had even known about, as well as making him grin in response.

A part of him wanted to encourage her—telling her to keep fighting him—like she had always fought him...

But he didn't.

Instead, he mentally urged her to return to the mansion. Once the sun went down, they could both explain to her mother what exactly had happened.

It was the least he could do, considering that he was, for all practical purposes, her mate now which meant Joyce Summers was now his mo—

Growling, he stopped that thought—

He could not and would not finish it.

At least not now...not before he held his mate's hot body in his—not until he felt those famous Slayer muscles squeeze him...not until her warm blood flooded his senses—and not until the bond was reaffirmed again.

Then maybe he would have the courage to allow himself to feel the rest of those pesky emotions flooding him.

After lighting another cigarette—Spike lay there in the dark—and couldn't help but wonder if it was some sort Pandora's box he had opened two hundred years before. By allowing himself that one little feeling—love—to enter into his psyche, he cracked the dam, allowing all those other pesky feelings to slowly seep their way into his heart.

***

It wasn't until she stepped inside the darkened bedroom, that the underlying tension that had been plaguing Buffy, left her.

All it took was one glance through the smoke-hazed room at the vampire—their eyes meeting across the room, and everything—her worries, inner turmoil, fears—fled in the face of the pair of warm and intense blue eyes studying her with an intensity that nearly took her breath away.

Shedding her clothes as she made her way to the bed, Buffy then crawled into the bed and curled her warm, living body around his cool, undead one—finally feeling at peace as he wrapped his arm around her after hours of fighting an uneasiness that only seemed to grow with time.

It wasn't until she had been at Giles' that she had realized what had been causing her edginess. At first, she had thought it was because she had to tell her friends of what had happened the night before. No matter what kind of pretty packaging she put on it, the harsh truth of her predicament could not be denied. She was now and forever bonded with an unsouled vampire...one of the very creatures that she had spent over five years killing. Even if Angel had kept the claim, it still wouldn't have made much of a difference in the big scheme of things.

In actuality, it might have made things worse.

At least Giles knew how he felt about Spike. With Angel, he kept seeing the demon instead of soul—never quite trusting the souled vampire, no matter how much Angel had done to prove otherwise.

With Spike, the Watcher understood the vampire's motives—it was clear and visible—even taking in consideration that Angel's childe possessed the ability to love—Giles still felt more comfortable in having to deal with Spike.

Giles understood him.

Groaning softly at her thoughts, she felt Spike's arm tighten around her, tugging her body over his. "Pet, are you okay?" he asked as his fingers brushed against her sensitive skin on her back.

"Yeah," she whispered, her eyes closing as her body began to warm under his touch. A sense of completeness filled her—almost as if the bond was reaffirming all the things she had learned earlier that day. Shivering, she pressed her lips against his chest, and ran her tongue across his skin—loving the way it cooled her hot tongue.

Groaning, Spike slipped his hands underneath her arms and roughly pulled her up so he could kiss her. As his tongue swept into her mouth, she rubbed her aching and wet mound against his hardness—wanting more than anything to feel him inside of her.

His fingers trailed down her spine until he reached her hips. He then lifted up and pushed her down—filling her...

Completing her...

Whimpering in need, she barely noticed when he flipped them over until she found herself looking up into his golden eyes as he took her...possessing her...owning her...

Claiming her...

Just the thought of that pushed her over the edge as she screamed out her climax. Seconds later, she felt the sharp pain of a pair of fangs as they slid into her throat. His growls sent shivers down her spine making her sex clench repeatedly and she found herself riding her second orgasm...her mind splintering and forming once again as she felt his cold semen shoot into her womb—temporarily cooling the burning fire that raged inside of her.

"So good," she whispered, caressing his hair as he purred loudly in her neck. "So fucking good..."

He pulled away from her neck and looked down at her—their eyes meeting—as Buffy felt a wave of tenderness from him wash over her even as he gave her one of his patented Spike smirks. *What a contradiction you are, Spike,* Buffy thought to herself as she lifted her head just enough to gently kiss him on the lips.

As he moved his mouth from hers and returned back to her bite marks—suckling them—Buffy knew she was in deep trouble...

She was falling for him.

Every time they made love, she cared less and less whether her feelings for him were claim induced or not...

And that's what scared her...pretty soon she would be Spike's...in every sense of the word. From her heart, to her mind to her soul—he would own her—and she felt helpless to stop it.

That is, if she even wanted to stop it by that time. As it stood now, she was having a hard time doing just that. It just felt too good and too right.

I'm in deep trouble, she thought to herself as her eyes closed in contentment. Deep trouble.

TBC

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