A Serpent’s Kiss - Lisa Y Drexel

My first foray ino slash fiction...I'm so proud of myself. What happens when Angel discovers that when Buffy provoked his demon to drink from her to save his life during G2, that there was a lot more to it than just a bite...B/S, B/A and A/S...NC-17!

Chapter one

The dreams came first.

Always the same—hot, erotic scenes of her and Angelus entwined in a lover's embrace...

Angelus fucking her...feeding from her. Buffy needing to feel his hardness slice its way into her yearning channel...needing to feel his cool breath as his ridged forehead tickled her temple and his fangs sunk into her neck...

Sometimes, they weren't alone—

Drusilla and Spike would join them—their pale bodies wrapped around with Buffy's and Angelus'—Spike's whispers in her ear as he slammed into her—finally possessing her the way he had always wanted to. Dru, with her hushed murmuring and her soft hands—cooing at Buffy—urging the slayer to explore the darkness that was inside of her...'come on, my pretty...you are ours,' she would say right before her fangs sunk down on her breast and the vampire would proceed to nurse from Buffy.

'Ours,' Spike would say, looking up from her neck—her blood staining his teeth.

'Mine,' Angelus would growl as Buffy's body would finally peak and her orgasm would wrack her body...helpless, she kept thinking...

'I'm helpless...'

And then she would wake with only dark, foggy memories of a dream that seemed so hauntingly familiar and right. Weeks before, she had taken to sleeping over at Riley's, reveling in the feeling of waking up in someone's arms. Something that had been denied to her with Angel.

Most of the time, she could ignore the fact that Riley's touch was too hot—too human—for her, by reminding herself that this same hot human loved her and wanted to be with her, when the other hadn't.

Most of the time she could enjoy the differences inherent in mating with a mortal versus mating with a vampire...

But once she had that first dream, she could no longer say that. What Buffy once had welcomed was slowly becoming repugnant to her. Every time Riley would hold her—their bare bodies joined in a lovers’ union—Buffy would feel another part of her self slip away—almost as if making love with him was paramount to losing her soul.

But once the sun rose and the dreams dissipated along with the mist of the falling darkness, she would begin to forget why she was feeling so out of sorts and she would continue on as if nothing was wrong.

That's what she did for all those weeks—pretend.

She pretended that she still loved Riley; pretended that she was still all that was light and right with the world; pretended that Spike's mere presence in her vicinity didn't send her body spiraling in a massive, tumultuous bundle of need, want, desire, love, hate and blood.

It was in this state of mind that she battled and defeated the cyborg-demon Adam, and brought the Initiative down to its knees...

And it was this state of mind that her friends experienced when the spell was cast to give her the strength to beat Adam...

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

"Buffy? Are you alright?" Willow asked her friend.

It was the day following the big battle at the Initiative headquarters and the ensuing fight against the First Slayer. Giles and Xander both had left earlier that morning to go to their respective homes. Buffy was sure Anya was having a fit. It seemed as if the former demon couldn't go a whole day without seeing Xander or she would lose whatever purchase of rationality she seemed to possess. With Giles, it seemed anytime time spent around her mother sent her watcher into a fluster of emotions. She could almost see the panic on his face when her mother handed him a cup of hot tea that morning. Just the threat of domestic bliss terrified him. But thankfully Willow had decided to stay and Buffy was grateful for her friend's presence even if she knew that the Wiccan would want to talk—about Riley, the fight—the oddness that rested inside of the slayer.

After nearly five minutes of silence, Buffy finally opened her eyes and sighed softly at her friend's concern. She could almost feel it—feel Willow—as if her friend's spirit was still connected to Buffy's.

The slayer shrugged as she turned her head and began to stare at the ceiling. How many nights had she spent in this bed counting the various flaws and cracks above her? "I don't know...something's off."

"I know," Willow whispered as she turned on her side—facing Buffy. "I could feel it. And, it's safe to say, so did Giles and Xander. It wasn't that obvious—it was more nebulous—"

"Skaty kind of," the blond said, interrupting her friend. "Like it was dodging any direct thought or inspection..."

"Yeah, but it scared me, Buffy. It was dark."

"I know. Could it be the First Slayer? Could I have caught her attention way before this spell and somehow she settled herself inside of me—to haunt me or something?"

"I don't know. I could research it and see what comes up. What else do you think it could be?"

Buffy didn't answer, fearing the truth that her heart was telling her...that somehow it was related to Angel—or, more specifically, Angelus. Unconsciously, she lifted her hand to touch her neck, tracing the raised scar as a tendril of arousal filled the slayer.

Groaning, Buffy dropped her hand and sat up. What the hell is happening to me? she asked herself as she fought the urge to rub her thighs together to aleviate her discomfort. Looking down at her friend, she gave Willow a strained smile. "Come on, Wills, we need to go back to the dorms and pack. Also, Riley's leaving today and I want to say good-bye to him."

Willow frowned, her eyes never leaving her friend. Buffy could tell the young witch was torn between pushing the issue and letting it go. "Are you sure?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Besides, doesn't Tara leave today too?"

The slayer watched as her best friend's face lit up at the mention of the blond witch. "Yeah, she is. I'm going to miss her..."

"I know, but she's only going to be gone for about six weeks, right?" Buffy asked as she grabbed her purse and waited for Willow at the door.

"Yeah, she's visiting her sister and her niece..."

Buffy opened the door, listening to her friend's rambling about the redhead's newest love interest—grateful for the normality it represented—and smiled to herself. This is why I fight, she thought to herself as she began to walk down the stairs. This is why it's worth it...

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

Three hours later, she stood on the sidewalk, ignoring her wet face, as she watched Riley pull his car out onto the street and head out of town.

Wiping her face, she sighed, actually wondering whom she was crying for—herself, Riley or the tattered remains of their relationship. He was still reeling over everything that had happened in the past couple of days—being controlled by Adam, haunted by the zombie-like caricatures of his friend Forrest, Maggie Walsh and Dr. Angleman. And, Buffy's distance.

That same distance that seemed to grow daily as she pulled back into herself. She wished she could stop it—or stop dragging him down with her—but she felt helpless underneath its pull. Almost as if it was inevitable that she would fall under the river of darkness that she had swum in since having been called.

As she stood there, watching his car as it turned a corner, leaving her sight, she thought of Angel and their conversation earlier that day. Willow had just left for her parents’ home with her first load of belongings, leaving Buffy alone in their nearly empty room when the impulse had hit to speak to her former lover.

Whether it was the slow demise of her relationship with Riley, the smuldering ruins of her 'normal' life or just the plain ache that Riley's ensuing departure was uncovering, she had no idea. But whatever the reasons, or if it were all three of them, Buffy knew that as soon as the thought of hearing Angel's voice entered her mind, she was helpless against the impulse to dial that number she had memorized the month before when he had handed her that small slip of paper with his cell phone number scribbled on it.

She just had to hear his voice—and once she did, that restless need inside of her dimmed somewhat—welcoming the warming tones of his familiar voice.

For a half an hour, the two warriors of the light talked of the most recent events that had turned their lives upside down again. Angel's office had been bombed and Wesley had been hospitalized after being caught in the explosion. And Cordelia had nearly been driven mad by a demon's curse that inflicted an endless stream of visions on to her psyche.

But like Buffy, Angel had saved his friends and himself—which in itself pleased the slayer to no end. Maybe this meant they would survive the coming years—each victory brought that reality closer to fruition...

Maybe Angel could come home to her...where he belonged.

And then, suddenly, in the midst of Buffy telling Angel of the dream she, Willow, Xander and Giles had had, involving a fight to the death against the First Slayer, she felt herself shudder as a wave of want filled her. For just a moment, she could've sworn she was somewhere else, sitting on a couch talking on the phone—the room was bright and airy, even with all the window's covered, with hardwood floors and white painted plaster walls. Buffy could feel love and concern fill her as she concentrated on the voice at the other end of the line...

Angel... she thought to herself.

And then, in a blink of an eye, she was back on her bed, with the phone in her hand, talking to Angel.

It was as if nothing had happened.

"What the—"

"Buffy? Are you okay?"

"Um? Yeah, jeez, it must be an after-effect of that spell. I've been feeling really off for a while."

"For how long?"

"A while, Angel. Dreams—not slayer dreams," she confessed, unwilling to share any more details with her former lover. Whether it was because of her own personal embarrassment about the subject or fear, or even because she knew if she told him, he would be made uncomfortable as well, she didn't know. But whatever the exact reasons were, it was enough to keep her from telling him everything. "Nothing important. It's just that I've been feeling a bit spacey...restless...as if something's missing." Buffy had said, sighing softly. "Willow's going to look into it for me. It might be the First Slayer—I could've caught her attention a bit earlier than yesterday."

"Are you sure?" he had asked, his concern nearly palpable.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Everything's fine, Angel," she said out loud, inwardly screaming that she needed him—wanted him—couldn't live without him. "Just fine."

"Well, if you are, I've got to go," he said. "I hope you feel better," he added softly.

"Thank you, Angel," she whispered just as Angel hung up—leaving her with more questions than answers.

Shaking her head ruefully, she sighed softly as she made her way back to her dorm room to finish packing the last of her things.

It was time to go home.

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

~~Dusk~~

It wasn't until she found herself standing in front of Spike's crypt, that Buffy even realized that she was in what the slayer had dubbed months before as 'Spike's cemetery'. She stared at the stone chamber, absently noting that Spike had taken off the cross that had adorned the top of the crypt and chuckled softly. She held out her hand and touched the rock, tipping her head to the side.

He's not there... she thought to herself. Her heart sank in disappointment as she turned around and fell against the crypt. She needed to see him—maybe he could...

"Could what?" she asked herself, nearly jumping at the sound of her voice. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Her eyes stung as she felt her heart sink...something was wrong with her. Why would she go and seek out Spike, for god's sakes? She hated him. And as soon as she thought that, a flash of his blond head buried in-between her legs, came to mind. She heard herself moan softly, oblivious of the tears that ran down her cheeks as she pushed herself off the stone wall.

Something was wrong.

Something was horribly, terribly wrong.

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Chapter Two

"What now?" the blond vampire growled as he stomped into the mansion. "You've summoned me, oh great one, so tell me what you need."

Angel looked over his shoulder at his childe and sighed softly. "I have a proposition for you," he whispered as he thought about his plan. It was risky, dangerous—most likely it wouldn't work, but what other choice did he have.

Her life depended upon it.

"What kind of proposition?"

"I can get the chip out for you—matter of fact, I need you to be chip-free for this to work."

Spike's head shot up—staring at Angel incredulously. "What? You want me to off Commando-boy for you?"

Angel couldn't help but smirk at that as he felt his demon squirm at the thought...mine...mine...mine... "No," he said, sighing airlessly. "Something else."

Spike stood there, hands on his hips as he inclined his head at Angel—obviously waiting for an explanation. "Well? Are you going to tell me what it is you want me to do?"

"Have you seen Buffy lately?"

Angel watched as Spike's head shot up and an expressionless mask fell over his features.

"I take that as a yes. Have you sensed her lately—more so than normal?"

Spike nodded slowly as his face lost its mask, becoming more interested despite himself. Angel felt something inside of him shudder in relief at the sight—his childe cared for the slayer. Angel had been suspecting it for a while now—why else would the vampire continue to come back to the same place that had nearly destroyed him a multitude of times? Spike had always been a survivor, and his actions for the past couple of years were far from being those of a person who desired his life above all else.

Unless that said vampire was in love.

And when Spike was in love, every ounce of self-preservation he usually displayed just disappeared once the younger vampire's amorous emotions were involved.

"Good, this may work then," Angel whispered, more to himself than to Spike.

"What will work?" his child asked, running his fingers nervously through his hair.

"Haven't you figured it out, Spike? What do you feel around her? Me maybe?"

The blond stilled as the implications of Angel's words sunk in. "Bloody hell, you claimed her, didn't you?"

Angel nodded, unable to stop the grimace of pain that crossed his face. "Almost a year ago—right in this room. The Mayor tried having me killed. I was poisoned. The only thing that could cure me was a slayer's blood." Angel found himself pacing as the words poured out of his mouth—the pain, the horror...and then the bliss..."Buffy first went after Faith and ended up putting the other slayer in a coma, but didn't get her blood. So, she did what she's always done—risked her life for someone she loved—and forced my demon to come out and play. I nearly drained her in this very room, but more importantly, it was a claiming bite."

"And it's almost time, isn't it, mate?"

Angel nodded. "If I, or one of my childer, doesn't bite her within a couple of days, she will die." Swallowing hard, Angel looked off to the side of the room. "Which would be fine and realitively easy if I were just another run of the mill vampire or she was just another mortal, but that isn't the case with either of us."

"And she doesn't know, does she?"

Angel shook his head. "I didn't even realize it until I talked to her earlier today. He hid the memory from me. Another poke at my soul. Another way to bring me down to my knees."

The elder vampire watched Spike shake his head in disgust. "He always was a devious bastard, wasn't he?" Spike asked, lighting a cigarette. "So, what's the problem? Tell her, make an annual date out of it, bite her, and then go your separate ways."

Groaning, Angel's shut his eyes against the simplicity of the question. Didn't Spike realize how much Angel wanted Buffy to be his—to be claimed? Didn't Spike realize that if Angel did this—now—as a healthy vampire—that he just might lose his soul in the process? It didn't take making love to break the curse. It took one moment of ultimate happiness and Angel couldn't think of anything that would please him more than claiming his mate...

"I can't. The curse."

"Fuck."

"Agreed. Fuck just about sums it up. I'm emotionally destroyed if I let her die—and I lose my soul if I bite her. The prick sure as hell knows how to make my life a living hell." Angel took a deep, unneeded breath as he reined in his errant emotions. Control, he thought to himself. He needed to be in control to say this to his childe...to offer what he was offering.

"So, I have two choices...I can get the chip out and have you bite her—yearly even—to keep her alive and the claim to remain with me. The problem I see with this solution is incentive—yours specifically. What's to keep you coming back for that damn bite every year?" The elder vampire asked his childe—wondering if Angel was imagining Spike's concern. "Nothing, as far as I can see. So, then there's the other option."

Spike stilled, his face suddenly blank and emotionless. "I don't know if I like where you're going with this," he said, glaring at Angel.

Angel ignored him and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Or, I can pass on the claim to one of those of my blood. And," Angel paused as his voice cracked. "And, who better than my favorite childe who, let's say, has just as an unhealthy interest in her well-being as I?"

The blond vampire's head jerked up at Angel's words, clenching his fists to his side. "What?" Spike growled.

Angel could feel the younger vampire's anger singing through the childe-sire bond, and for a just a moment, Angel almost regretted his words. Spike, for all his emotional bluster, was in fact, a very private person. Whatever feelings his childe had for Buffy, Angel knew Spike didn't care for his sire bringing them out into the open. Not only was it unnatural for a vampire, especially a soulless vampire, to harbor positive human emotions, such as love or empathy for anything, it was considered abhorrent for a vampire to have those feelings for a human, and even worse when the said human was the slayer.

It was wrong. On so many levels that Angel couldn't even begin to list them. The only thing that saved Angel from feeling the type of shame that he was sure Spike was feeling, was because Angel had a human soul. His soul excused him—even in the demon community—whereas Spike wouldn't have that excuse.

Spike would be considered a deviant—an aberration—in the community. Only if Spike played his hand right, would he come out of this unscathed.

Angel could only hope his childe still possessed those brains that Angelus had fallen for nearly 200 years before. They just may save his life.

"You realize what you're asking?"

Oh my childe, I do know, Angel thought to himself as he nodded once to Spike. But you love her..."I'm asking you to take over my claim."

"No!" Spike yelled, his demon face sliding over his features, as his voice rose in anger. "No, you're asking me to get the bloody chip out of my head only to become a sodding nancy-boy like you are! You're asking a demon to not kill just for some piece of ass that I would've been so much better off never seeing in the first place!" Spike whipped around, pacing in front of Angel. "I can't believe this! What a joke. Might as well have a fucking soul if I do what you ask!"

"But you'll have her. And, I'll never interfere again," Angel added softly, inwardly hoping that Spike's feelings for her would override any common sense that the younger vampire still possessed. What a dangerous game you're playing, Angel, he thought to himself as he watched Spike's mouth curve into a sardonic smirk as he snorted ruefully.

"And you think she won't seek you out, you sod?" he asked, incredulity lacing his voice. "She loves you! They all love you, you fucking prick!"

"Spike!"

"What? It's the bloody truth," Spike snapped. "How can you ask me this, sire?"

Angel's eyes shut at Spike's painfully entreaty and nearly called off the whole damn thing. And then, just as he was opening his mouth to tell Spike to forget it, he remembered the confused and hushed tones of Buffy's voice...

This was the only way.

"Damnit Will, if I could think of a better solution, I would! And if we don't do something quick, she will die. And as if I don't have enough problems as it stands, I think the rest of them know something's wrong with her as well."

"Why? Did she tell them?"

Angel rubbed his forehead wearily as he shook his head no. "That spell they did last night—to fight Adam—it joined their spirits. Willow asked Buffy today what was going on. Buffy says that she thinks it’s the First Slayer. They apparently had a run-in with its spirit last night after the fight." He looked up to see Spike sitting on the coffee table, his head in his hands as he repeatedly shook his head. "But she knows it's not that. While I was on the phone with her—suddenly she was inside of me—just for a second. It's like she's seeking me out."

"I've been noticing her arousal every time we are around each other," Spike said softly through his hands. "I've also been having dreams."

"So am I and so is she. And if we are, then Dru is too."

"What about Penn?"

"He's dead, Spike. He was killed six months ago in LA."

"Was it you...?"

Angel shook his head, noting the relief on his childe's face. Angel really couldn't blame him for wondering; he did kill Darla. But Darla was his sire—Penn, Spike and Dru were his childer.

They were his. His progeny—his legacy—be it the soul or the demon.

"I can't believe I didn't put two and two together. It's just that you've never claimed a human before. Hell, none of us have ever claimed a human. I always thought that part of you that I sensed in the slayer was from you two being intimate..."

"I know," Angel whispered. "Claiming a human is something that only a fool or someone in love would do."

"They're the same thing, mate."

"Aye, they are. To have a human bound to you for as long as you desire—to change or to keep human...Damnit! I hate this curse! Spike, I don't want this—but damnit, I don't want her to die either. When I realized today what had happened, I nearly had my one moment of true happiness right there," he paused and then whispered, unable to hide the excruitiating pain that seemed to emanate from his soul. "Forever. She could be with me forever." He shook his head, desperately fighting the despair that was clawing his gut. "And then the reality of the curse came slamming down on top of me as I felt him squirming gleefully inside." Angel hung his head down and took a deep unneeded breath. "I can't let him win. We can't let him win, Will," he said, looking up at his childe. "You hate him now as much I do. If we let her die, then he gets what he wanted...both of us miserable or him free."

Spike said nothing as he stood up in a flurry of motion and began pacing the length of the floor once again. The elder vampire could almost see the wheels turning in his favorite childe's head as Spike thought of everything that Angel had just told him. How many times had Angel watched Spike do the same thing he was doing right then? Thousands, Angel answered himself as memories of the past flooded his mind. When the younger vampire had been human and was in the midst of scheming a new and better plan to secure his future...after Angel had turned him and the then brown-haired William would anxiously wait for the sun to set—needing to leave the strict confines of their shelter for the freedom the night promised...and those times when Dru would go out hunting by herself and Spike would wait anxiously by the door for her return.

"I won't stop killing," Spike said softly, interrupting Angel's revere. "Even if that means that I have to leave and come back once a year for the event. If she can't accept me as the demon I am, I can't stay. But, if I do go through with this, I won't ever hurt her or her friends and family—I can promise you that."

"What about killing murderers and such? Have you ever done that? It's actually quite satisfying. The hunt is more intense. And killers are so much more arrogant than innocents."

"Then why did you stop?"

"I was bored. It was before I got my soul. It was just something to do—something different than stalking my usual prey."

"Why didn't you do that after you got a soul?"

"Because, I couldn't deal with the possibility of making a mistake," Angel said, walking over to Spike. "So, will you do this for me...for her?"

Growling softly, Spike nodded. "I'm probably going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Not if you play your cards right," Angel said, picking up his leather coat from the chair. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Cordelia's home phone. He looked back up at Spike. "I've got to tell the doctor it's a go. He's here—in Sunnydale—and is ready for us now."

Cordelia's tired voice spoke through the phone and Angel found himself sighing once again. If they went through this—everything would change...

"Hi Cordelia, do you have that number of that doctor that David Nabbit gave you? I forgot it. Ask Dennis, he was there when I was writing it down..."

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Chapter Three

Angel shouldn't have been surprised when he felt her presence as she neared the mansion. It was only a matter of time until she would find herself inexplicably drawn to him or Spike as the needs of the claim became more overwhelming.

He still couldn't believe that his demon hid this from him for nearly a year. Although there had only been a few times that Angelus had completely surfaced since Angel regained his soul nearly two years before, Angel was still somewhat in control of his demon's actions. With the exception of the happy pill he had been slipped earlier this year, the soul had always been in charge. At least, that was what Angel had believed.

Obviously, it wasn't true or none of them would be in this position now. Maybe it was the near death of Angel's body that gave Angelus the control he needed to pull this off. Or it could've been the taste of her blood—her essence and her love that cleansed his body and blood—maybe that was what gave Angelus the impetus needed to claim her and keep that knowledge from Angel.

And to think he had nearly succeeded. If Spike hadn't agreed to take over the claim, the only option Angel would have had was to go ahead and do it himself and have Spike stake him. After his little jaunt with happy pills this spring, he was reminded all over again why Angelus was not a good thing—for anyone involved.

But even Angel's death wasn't really a solution, per say.

Claims were funny things...hated and yet revered by the oldest of vampire clans. Everyone that was considered of old blood knew of them—how to do them, sketchy details of what happens to the human once the claim is made and, the commitment involved in making a claim.

Lifetimes...forever. The act was even more of an undertaking than the making of a childe. At least with childers, a vampire didn't need to bite them yearly to guarantee their existence. Once a vampire brings across a childe, other than teaching them, that was pretty much it. Whatever else the sire did was of his or her own choice.

With claims it was forever. Which was why most humans that had been claimed were eventually brought across or killed. Humans weren't worthy of that kind of attention, and yet, the process, the spell...it was still taught to all those childers coming up in the vampire world. As someone who for nearly a century has straddled both the demon and human world, Angel didn't understand why it was still taught...other than that devilish pleasure of having a human obedient to a vampire's every wish and whimsy.

Claims were also inheritable, hence the dilemma. If Angel died, it was just passed on to his eldest living childe, which was Spike—unless Dru bit Buffy before the blond vampire did and then she would be the claim holder—and there would be nothing Spike could do other than asking Dru to participate in the ritual to hand over her claim to him. And Angel knew Dru would kill Buffy right off instead of keeping the slayer alive and under her care or passing the claim over to Spike. There was no love lost between the two women—which once again was his fault.

Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he watched as the young woman who held his heart in the palm of his hand stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Angel?"

"Right here, Buffy," he said softly, turning on the lamp beside him.

Buffy's eyes widened as she saw an unconscious Spike, with a bandage wrapped around his head, lying on the couch. "You—he—you got the implant out?" she asked angrily. Angel could hear the rage and desire in her voice and nearly groaned at the sweet smell of her arousal as it drifted towards him. Spike was right, he thought to himself.

"I had to," Angel said softly, clutching the arms of the chair in desperation as his demon screamed for him to go to her...take her...

mine...mine...mine...

"Why?" She began walking towards him.

"Stop! Don't come any closer!" Angel demanded, noting that she did just that. "Sit next to Spike, but don't jostle him. And be careful," he added. "He should be waking up pretty soon, and he'll be hungry—he needs blood to heal," Angel said, taking a deep, calming breath as he relaxed his grip on the chair. "Just stay there, and I'll just go and get some for him."

She nodded, obviously oblivious to her apparent docility. No matter how much her actions bothered Angel's soul, he couldn't help but feel aroused at her compliance. It appealed to his demon's need to dominate and control, and Angel could feel it squirming inside of him—rejoicing in her subservience.

The elder vampire could only shudder at that thought. His soul—what was once Liam and now Angel, had always disliked weak woman—and that was one of the things that had always drawn him to Buffy. She was so strong—emotionally as well as physically—and yet still held a vulnerability that tugged at Angel's heart.

Any other time, Buffy would be bombarding him with questions...why he was there, why he was even in the same room with his errant childe, why she was drawn to him...and yet, she asked nothing and just obeyed because of the call of blood she felt zinging through her veins. Another effect of the claim as the time nears...she'll hate that Spike has that power over her...

Angel fled the room in a near panic as he felt his demon screaming against its confines. God, he wanted her...so much. Pictures of that forgotten day flew through his mind as he flung open the refrigerator door. She was like a goddess—her naked, hot body sinking down on top of his...her eyes closed as she lost herself in pleasure...the way her unfathomable strong legs clenched his body impossibly close to his...the sweet taste of her slayer enhanced blood as it slid down his throat...

Growling, Angel slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, welcoming the ache in hand that followed.

"Angel? He's waking up," Buffy voice broke through his haze of longing.

He grabbed the two blood bags that the doctor had given him, plus cut another quart of pig's blood that he brought with him from LA and left the kitchen.

He returned to the living area to see Buffy hovering over a now bareheaded Spike. He glanced over at the coffee table and saw the bloodstained bandages that were once adorning Spike's head. "Angel's coming with some blood," she told his childe, her fingers gently caressing Spike's bare arm.

Clearing his throat, Angel stepped in front of Spike and handed him the human blood first—absently noting the wound had all but healed. "It's cold. I didn't have a chance to warm it," Angel said apologetically.

Spike nodded, saying nothing as he sank his fangs into the plastic and quickly drained the bag. Angel handed him the second one and watched as Spike did the same with it. Just as he was getting ready to give him the pig's blood, Spike shook his head at Angel.

He leaned back against the arm of the couch and lit a cigarette, his eyes darting from Buffy to Angel. "So, did you tell her, mate?"

"Didn't have a chance. She just showed up here."

"Tell me what?" Buffy asked as she began inching closer to Angel.

Angel back-pedaled, unable to stop the look of horror that crossed his face as he realized all it would take is one touch, and everything they had planned for would be for naught.

A flash of pain crossed her face..."Angel?"

"Buffy, come here," Spike ordered, holding out his hand for her as he sat up.

Angel almost growled at his love's unknowing compliance as she took Spike's hand and let him pull her body down on top of his, her back against his chest as his free hand wrapped itself around her waist.

"Why? What's going on?"

Angel heard Spike snicker as his hand caressed her stomach. "Angel...Sire, tell her."

Ignoring the stab of pain the sight of them together brought, he fell back down into the chair that he had been occupying and closed his eyes in defeat.

"I claimed you last year."

"What do you mean, you claimed me?"

"What he means, pet, is that his demon claimed you last year when you made him drink from you."

"And that's why I feel the way I do?"

Angel nodded, opening his eyes to see Spike nibbling on the back of her neck. Did she even realize what he was doing? Did she even see how her body was responding to him and Spike?

"Tell her," Spike demanded once he lifted his head up from her neck. "Tell her before I combust."

Angel groaned as his head fell down into his waiting hands. "It's complicated. You made the demon come out—that was the only way I would bite you. He had to do it, because my soul wouldn't. Well, he did and claimed you in the process. Not all bites are claims..."

"Just certain ones, love. They have to be deep. There has to be feelings there—between the two. Not necessarily love, because not very many vampires can love—"

"And there has to be an exchange of blood as well. Not the way you would if you were going to bring someone across, but..."

"I didn't drink from you!"

"You didn't have to, pet. All he had to do was cut himself once he pulled away and rub his blood into your wound— thereby sealing the claim. And whisper a little incantation."

"And you did that?" she asked Angel, incredulity lacing her voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know. He hid it from me. It wasn't until we spoke today that I realized what happened."

"But why now? Why do I want you and Spike and Dru. I've been having erotic dreams about Dru!" Buffy yelled out, struggling to free herself from Spike's grip.

"Pet, quit it!"

Buffy stilled.

"Why?" she asked in a small voice.

"Because he has to bite you at least once a year or you die, Buffy. The clock's ticking and it'll be a year in...?"

"In two days," Angel supplied. "The upside of it is that you're for all practical purposes immortal, unless I or whomever holds the claim dies," he added softly, hinting to what their solution was. "You'll heal even quicker than you normally do...you still get the sun and the daytime, you're just tied to me and my family for the rest of your life."

Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head in denial. "That's why I've been pushing Riley away, isn't it?"

Angel nodded.

"So, bite me and get this over with—before I end up making smoochies with Spike on the couch right in front of you!"

Spike chuckled softly, as he ran his tongue across her bite marks. "It'll be more than smoochies, pet..."

"I can't...bite you, that is. The curse...my soul."

"But you did it last year!" She nearly screamed. "I know! I was there."

"I was nearly dying and he was in control then! I didn't feel that one moment of true happiness, but I'll guarantee you, Buffy, if I were to bite you now, I most certainly would!"

"It won't stop at a bite, pet. You're a walking hormone machine right now and have been for almost a month..."

"You mean, you can smell that?"

Spike chuckled as he handed her the cigarette. "Put that out, love."

Angel watched as she obediently leaned forward and stabbed the cigarette out into the clean ashtray that was sitting on the coffee table. He looked over at Spike and couldn't help but snarl at the look of glee on his childe's face as the slayer obeyed his commands.

Rolling his eyes, he glared at Spike. "You realize, once this is over with—she's going to hate you," Angel told him, enjoying the instant panic that crossed his childe's face.

"Why? What? I don't understand what's happening to me!"

Angel noticed that Spike's hold on her tightened as he wrapped his free arm around her waist. "Love, it's like a self-preservation mixed in with a demon's intent. When the need for the claim becomes this strong—the mortals find themselves not only drawn to those of the same blood as their mates', but they also feel compelled to obey them. It's like you're in our thrall—for lack of a better term. It keeps you compliant so the claim can be renewed."

"That's why I can't tell you to shove it?"

He laughed out loud, nodding his head. "Exactly. So, do you want to know what our solution is?"

"I have a feeling I already know. Angel got your chip out so that somehow you could do the claiming...am I right?"

"Yes, that's right," Angel said.

"What about afterwards? What about you and killing, Spike? What's going to stop you from killing me or anyone else now that the chip is out?"

"This is why no one claims slayers!" Spike growled out.

"Well, obviously he didn't do it so that we could all live happily ever after!" Angel snapped, finding himself not wanting to take the blame for this..."Listen, you two talk about this—I'm going to go into the other room and make sure everything is set up and ready."

Angel forced his legs to move as he made his way into the bedroom. God, it took almost everything out of him to even be in the same room with her. How was he going to be able to sit through the ceremony?

But, he added silently, maybe it won't be so bad...Spike will be there to alleviate some of Angel's discomfort. Something Angel needed desperately.

Sighing dramatically, he began setting the items up that he brought with him from LA. Things that he had never, in his 248 years as a vampire, ever thought he would use...

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Chapter Four

"So what does this mean, Spike?" Buffy asked the blond vampire once she turned around in his embrace to face him.

Spike bit back a moan as he felt the tips of her nipples scrape his chest. Even with two shirts between them—it was almost as if they were already naked. "Damn dreams," he said softly, opening his eyes in time to catch her in the midst of biting her bottom lip. "Stop that, love or we won't make it to the bedroom," he told her gently as he watched her release her lip with a soft pop.

"I want you...I've always wanted you," she whispered, her head falling on his chest. "After that spell, I just acted that way because it was expected..."

"Because it was wrong," he said, remembering her words from that fateful night at the Bronze nearly three months before.

"What?"

"Don't you remember that night? At the Bronze? When you practically molested me in the middle of the bar? It was about the time that the other slayer woke up."

"Oh god, what did she—I say?"

"You don't remember?"

"Refresh my memory."

Spike watched the slayer's eyes widen in embarrassment as he repeated the words back to her verbatim. Suddenly, she was shaking her head no, muttering how she wanted to kill Faith all over again.

"What?"

"She had some device and switched our bodies. That wasn't me. That was her in my body that said those things. The worst 24 hours of my life—at least since Graduation," she explained, her eyes dropping as she began plucking at his shirt. "So, was she right? Do—did—"

"Yes," he said, interrupting her—knowing instinctively what she was asking—did he want her? Gods, was she that blind not to honestly see the effect she had on all the men in her life? "Yes, I do. But pet, I can't stop killing. I'm a demon—without a soul. I'm not Angel. He talked to me about this—"

"What did he say? Or you?"

"He suggested that I hunt killers...rapists...child molesters. You know, the dreds of society. He said he it did for awhile when he didn't have his soul. He liked it. It's either that, or I feed outside of town or I just leave and come back once a year."

"But will I feel this way about you after this? I mean, I love Angel—I did before and after the claim. I guess, what I'm saying is, will I want you around? Is this real? These feelings or are they the claim or whatever?"

Spike sighed as his hand slipped under her shirt and began caressing her bare skin. Her soft whimpers were almost music to his ears, but it wasn't enough. He needed an answer to her question nearly as much as she did. He knew what his feelings towards her were. She was the reason he kept coming back. She was the reason he never left after the implant.

She was the reason he lost Dru.

His hand stilled as the question spilled from his lips. "Do you want Drusilla?"

Her face blanched as she shook her had no. "But if she were here—"

"There would be a part of you that did," Spike finished for her. "And me? Be honest now, pet. Before the claim, think, how did you feel about me—other than being your mortal enemy and everything."

"I used to think about you after Angel lost his soul. I knew that he was drawn to Dru when he had a soul, so I could just imagine what it was like with you three together. Especially after finding how much of an asshole Angel is without a soul..."

Interesting, he thought to himself, remembering back to that time two years before. He used to think of her too—every time Angelus would return without the slayer's death under his belt, Spike found himself admiring her a little bit more. He didn't necessarily fall in love with her then, but he did begin to respect her—as grudgingly as it was.

"...and afterwards...after I sent Angel hell, I used to wonder about you and Dru. Whether or not your plan worked and you got the girl or not. A part of me really wanted you to be successful, because someone deserved to be happy after that spring, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be me." Her face broke into a small grin. "I remember telling Wills that you were sexy after meeting you that first night. You were the first vampire, other than Angel, that I was attracted to. Before that, I had thought that my attraction had to do with Angel having a soul, but when you came around, I discovered it wasn't just that. And the way you loved Dru—such an anomaly—but so true. That time at that club—when you had all of us surrounded and I managed to subdue Dru? Remember that?"

He nodded. "I couldn't believe I was just seconds from bagging my third slayer and you turn around and do something like that. For just a minute I couldn't think straight. That stake was so close to her heart and I knew nothing would be worth it if she died..."

"I could see that. No matter what you did after that, I couldn't help but remember that look in your eyes. You loved her. To be loved like that—well for a sixteen-year-old innocent girl, it was incredibly romantic," she said blushing furiously.

"I think we just answered your question. You may not love me yet, pet, but I think the potential is there. You need to get to know me—who I really am instead of just your mortal enemy..."

"And you? Do you love me?"

Yes, a part of him wanted to yell out into the night. Yes, of course, you bloody nit—why in the hell would I be here—ready to take on a commitment that could last lifetimes, if I didn't love you? Groaning softly, he dropped his hands to her hips and lifted her up in the air as he sat up and turned around. Her legs dropped effortlessly on either side of him, and he nearly swore out loud at the heat emanating from her crotch. Bloody hell, I'm ready to shag her right here, he thought to himself as he stared into her hazel eyes—so open and soft. The last time he saw her eyes like that was when he had the Gem......when they fought in the daylight. He was so angry that she had actually fucked that useless prick of a boy, he couldn't think straight. How dare she finally get over Peaches with the first bloke that came along and ignore him in the process? Spike wanted to be the center of her world—not some sniveling mortal that could die with a well-placed punch to his chest. How dare she be the way he had dreamt of for over two years—vulnerable and needy—with someone else?

He nearly killed her because of the raging jealousy he had felt at that moment. Now that he thought about it, he may've not just been reacting out of his own personal feelings, but because somewhere in his subconscious he recognized her scent and Angelus' claim underneath it.

He realized that her face fell as the silence continued and sighed inwardly. Time to fess up, Spikey-old-boy, he thought to himself as he lifted one of his hands and cupped her face, urging her to meet his eyes. "Why do you think he asked me to do this, pet? He knew my feelings. Probably before I did," he added, unable to prevent the slow grin that spread his lips. "So, are you ready to get the show on the road?"

"Will you stay?"

"Only if you want me to pet. If not, I'll leave and just come back. I don't think I can stay here and not be with you, though. Once the claim is passed over to me, that urge to be with you will even be stronger than it already is."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "I'm ready," she whispered against his cool skin as he stood up and began to make his way to Angel's bedroom.

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Chapter Five

As Buffy clung to Spike, she tried to make sense of everything she had learned that night, but found that the needs of her body were making her too thick-headed to contemplate much past the point that she was finally getting what she had to have. After weeks of being haunted by nebulous thoughts and desires, of dreams that she had been too embarrassed to contemplate in the light of day, all she could think of was that it was finally coming to pass.

Once Spike placed her on the bed, her eyes immediately sought out Angel and found him sitting quietly in a chair across the room, his head bowed in his hands. She could feel the tension radiating out from him, and Buffy felt her heart go out for him.

If this was hard for her, it had to be nearly impossible for him. She didn't know much of vampire etiquette, but what she had discovered told her that what he was getting ready to do was going against nearly everything that he was—soul and demon alike. The soul loved her—unconditionally and completely. Everything that Angel—the soul—had done in the past four or five years was because of her. Even this last act—passing his claim to Spike—was because Angel loved her.

And Buffy just knew—if only from her own experiences with Angelus—that the demon had to be screaming against the magical bonds which held it at bay—hating that the soul was giving up something that the demon believed was his. The demon was a possessive, controlling sort—raging against Angel and Spike for going against its wishes.

The demon would've much rather seen Buffy die than the claim being passed on.

"Angel?" she whispered after kicking off her shoes and hugging her legs close to her chest.

He lifted his head and Buffy nearly gasped at the red streaks that adorned his face. He's been crying, she thought to herself and was making her way towards him before she even realized it.

"Stop it, Buffy," Spike's familiar voice commanded.

She halted her movements instantly, innately knowing that it was imperative that she obey him...he...they...were the masters in her world—if only for just a little while. Now that she understood the claim a bit better, the compulsion didn't disgust her as much as it had earlier. Maybe that was because on some level, she trusted the two vampires with her—knew that they were doing everything possible to take care of her, whereas others wouldn't be so prone to worry about the health and happiness of a slayer.

Others meaning Drusilla.

Buffy couldn't help but shudder in fear at that thought. The female vampire blamed the slayer for the loss of Angel, and most likely for Spike as well. Even though Drusilla wasn't around this time, what would stop her from appearing in her life next year at this time? The ability to wield such power over a slayer, over Buffy, would be a dangerous feat—especially in the hands of the mad Drusilla.

Sighing, Buffy looked up at Spike and nodded in Angel's direction, silently imploring him to go to Angel and comfort him.

Spike tensed and Buffy could see the rebuke in his angry eyes. Determined, Buffy employed her very own 'resolve' face—her eyes not leaving his.

The tension in the room was nearly tangible and Buffy wondered if things would ever be right between the three of them. Things were always so complicated with Angel and Spike. Angel, guilt-ridden, more often than not associated Spike with everything evil that his demon had done...regardless of the older vampire's more positive feelings towards his childe. Up until that night, most of the interaction she had seen between the two had been laced with anger, disappointment and guilt. As she watched them work together, despite all those feelings, she now realized that they still loved each other...even though Angel had his soul.

She never gave much thought to the nuances of their relationship, at least not while the elder vampire was still Angel, but now she could see the glaring truth: Angel would always be Spike's sire—soul or not—and Spike would always be Angel's favorite childe—soul or not.

Yet Buffy could almost taste Spike's resentment and anger towards his sire. From what little she had gathered from the blond vampire, it wasn't just that his sire had a soul that had pushed the younger vampire away, but other things as well. Spike, despite his demon or maybe even because of it, loved with all his heart, and if his reaction towards Dru leaving him was any indication, Buffy guessed that the younger vampire didn't take too well to being abandoned. And that's exactly what Angel did when he never returned to his childer after being cursed: he disappeared—without a word or note—leaving Spike to fend for Drusilla and himself. Now, nearly a century later, Angel was still paying for that transgression he made against his childers.

She couldn't help but wonder how different things would be now if Angel had returned to Spike and Dru. Even if Angel had ended up leaving them again at some later date, would things have turned out as they had two years before? Or would they possibly have been worse?

Add Buffy to the mix, and she couldn't help but think of how explosive the situation could end up being. Angel and Buffy were in love...they possessed a kind of love that very few mortals ever had a chance to experience, and yet they could not be together. The fates decided a long time ago that Angel's soul should pay the price of his demon's actions, and part of that price was his inability to be with Buffy.

And Buffy and Spike were mortal enemies. What did she tell him that night of Acathla? 'You vampire, me slayer, mortal enemies...ring any bells?' God, she was naïve back then. It was all still so simple to her then, and yet she couldn't deny the tumultuous thoughts that came from allying herself with Spike. Lines that she had drawn so heavily in the sand suddenly seemed so nebulous.

Spike—just by his mere presence—obscured almost everything. Vampires were not supposed to be able to love...they were not supposed to want to do everything—even go against their very nature—in the name of love. They weren't supposed to take joy from life, which Spike did. Although it wasn't the kind of joy Buffy could ever understand, he still enjoyed himself.

And finally, vampires were not supposed to be in love with their mortal enemy, the slayer, and Spike was.

Buffy wasn't sure how long the silent tug of war lasted between her and Spike as she stared into the dark depths of his blue eyes when he finally bowed his head in acquiescence. But all she could do is give him a small smile in thanks as she watched him kneel down beside Angel's chair and look over at his sire. "Is everything a go?" he asked softly, his hand finally touching Angel's taut arm.

God, she hoped so, she thought to herself. She was so anxious to get things moving again—unable to deny the need for completion and release that was thrumming through out her body. All she wanted was to make love to both of them until her body would finally just give out. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing her heart, she forced herself to pay attention to the two vampires, praying that the distraction would be enough to keep her from losing whatever grasp of control she had and throwing herself onto both of them...

The elder vampire nodded slowly as he turned to Spike—surprise at his childe's attentiveness. Spike just shrugged in response, keeping his face expressionless.

Angel then looked over at Buffy, their eyes meeting in almost a silent goodbye. As tears silently flowed down her face and her body flushed under his examination, she nearly kicked herself. How could she be feeling two opposing emotions so strongly? A part of her wanted to sob at the sorrow of saying good-bye to him and the other part—her body and that claim that was wrapping itself around nearly everything that was herself—just wanted to screw them both and do it now. Never before had she felt so out of control—even that time Riley and her were stuck in the frat house, screwing like two rabbits in heat, was nothing compared to the riotous feelings scorching through her mind and body at this moment.

Not to mention how Angel's mere presence, even under the most normal of circumstances, could make her blush like a virgin all the while feeling as if she were the most beautiful and desirable being on the face of the planet.

He always got to her. His beautiful brown eyes—so intuitive and intense that they seemed to be able to see into her very soul. Shaking her head— desperate to get this over with and to go on and let her lick her wounds later...to finally force herself to let Angel go—something she hadn't been able to do for over a year—needing something...anything to happen...she yanked her attention away from Angel and glanced over at Spike and nearly fell back in the bed in surprise at what she saw there.

For just a second, she caught that same intensity that she had always associated with Angel in Spike. The younger vampire's blue eyes burned into hers—searing her soul—and she felt herself falling into them—welcoming the salvation they promised.

"Are you okay, Buffy?" Angel's voice broke through her reverie and she dropped her eyes, unable to handle the connection she felt with Spike at the same time as she was talking to Angel. It felt wrong—as if she were betraying her love and yet, like everything else that had happened in the past few weeks, she felt helpless...

She nodded yes as she wiped her face. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and concentrated on her feelings as she sorted through the chaos in her mind and heart. Suddenly her heart clenched and she nearly sighed in relief when she recognized the familiar stirrings of her heart breaking. This she knew...this she had experienced before...three times with the same man who was now asking her if she was okay. Each time her heart broke was etched in her soul and she could nearly see them being played out to her in her mind: the day after her seventeenth birthday, the night she sent Angel to Hell and, finally, the night of the Ascension—when she watched him disappear into the mist, leaving her for what she thought was forever. And now, this time. Will it kill our love? she asked herself. Will I wake up tomorrow and suddenly feel all these feelings towards Spike?

She doubted it, but there was still enough of a question in her mind to make her want to reassure Angel, and by doing that, herself. Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes to fleetingly meet his, she gave a small smile. "Angel—whatever happens after this—I love you. You do know that, don't you?"

She watched as he momentarily shut his eyes in relief and nodded slowly. "It's just that you'll love someone else too," he whispered, and Buffy could hear the pain in his voice.

God, I wish there was something I could do, she thought to herself as a sob threatened to break through.

But she was as helpless with this as she was with everything else as of late.

"Maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you will. And when that happens, you won't just be mine," he said, glancing over at Spike as his eyes flashed angrily. "You'll be his too," he ended, unable to hide the resentment lacing his voice. Who he was angry at it, Buffy could only guess...the Fates, the gypsies that cursed him...the clause...even Spike and Buffy themselves...and Buffy couldn't begrudge Angel any of those feelings, having felt them herself just moments before.

"I don't know how I'll feel about Spike tomorrow," she whispered. "Or even how I feel about him now, but the one thing I do know is the only thing I have known," she said, pausing as her voice caught. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She needed to say this—for herself and for Angel. "For over three years, I have loved you and nothing will ever change that."

"Thank you," Angel said softly, breaking eye contact with her as he looked down at his clasped hands.

Buffy nodded once, feeling a flash of regret flood her heart as she noticed Spike's body stiffen at her words. Her eyes stung and whatever purchase she had on her emotions, was lost as guilt began spinning through her.

Damnit, she silently cursed. Help one, hurt the other, Buffy thought to herself as she watched the blond vampire purse his lips and turn away from Angel—glancing over at the table which looked liked it held some ceremonial items.

Shuddering, she could feel herself spiraling out of control—emotions piling up on top of another...filling her and tearing her in half...guilt, want, need, desire, arousal...they all returned, leaving her once again in that cloudy haze that she had been in earlier that night...

"I'm ready," Angel said, breaking the uneasy silence that had blanketed the room.

Still expressionless, Spike nodded, pulling off his tee-shirt as he stood up. Once bare-chested, he glanced over at Buffy. "Pet, you need to undress now and why don't you just stay there—on the bed—once you're finished," he told her gruffly.

She nodded as she began undoing the buttons on her blouse, ignoring the battling voices in her head...slut—whore...need and want...sorrow and pain...apprehension and excitement. She knew a part of her should be horrified at getting naked in front of the two vampires, but the need in her was so strong, she didn't think anything would break through the haze of want in her heart and body.

She heard Angel stand and glanced over to see him begin to unbutton his black silk shirt as well and felt a tendril of confusion worm its way through the foggy confines of her mind. "Spike...what exactly is going to happen?"

She couldn't be having sex with both of them—wouldn't that pretty well send Angel's curse into la-la land? She asked herself as she observed Spike who began unlacing his boots.

"Pet—the rest of your clothes," Spike reminded her softly after he kicked off his shoes, ignoring her question.

Frowning, Buffy stood up and unzipped her shorts, her eyes glued to Spike as she watched him undo the buttons on his jeans and begin pulling them down.

He goes commando, she thought to herself as his hard cock popped out of its binding. She felt her sex tingle in excitement. That's for me. Her mouth watered just thinking about what he would taste like...

Shaking her head, she quickly shed her shorts and took a deep breath before pulling off her sports bra, freeing her breasts. Suddenly embarrassed with her nakedness, she quickly tugged down her panties and fell onto the bed, her eyes shut in fear of their possible rejection.

Although she was far from the near virgin she had been the year before, these two creatures had nearly 500 years of combined sexual experience compared to her measly year and a half. After all those years, they had to have slept with some beautiful women...Darla and Dru were the first ones that came to mind. Buffy had none of the poise or classic beauty of either woman, and she couldn't help but feel a bit unsure of herself.

And, she added silently, unlike both of them, she had only slept with Angel once and made out with Spike that one time when they were both under the influence of Willow's 'do-thy-will' spell. Spike and Angelus, on the otherhand, had been involved intimately with one another for nearly a hundred years.

It was more than a bit intimidating for a young woman of only nineteen years...

"Buffy," Angel said softly, breaking her train of thought.

Her eyes opened slowly to see him sitting once again in the chair, although this time he was as naked as she was. Her eyes shut in pain at the sight. Can't look, can't want... she kept telling herself, trying to deny that part of herself that wanted to hop out of the bed and touch him everywhere—to revel in the excitement surging through her body.

"We need to explain the ceremony to you," he continued, his voice cracking.

Buffy nodded, feeling oddly reassured that he was obviously experiencing some of the same problems. Finally, she opened her eyes and forced herself to look into his sad brown eyes—smiling when she saw the love for her in them.

Spike flopped down on the bed beside her and before she could even squeak in protest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her body over to his.

A wave of relief filled her at Spike's touch and she couldn't help herself as she pressed her hot body closer with his cool one. Although she didn't understand it, Spike's touch somewhat calmed the raging storm inside of her and she welcomed it, enjoying the clarity of thought he brought. After resting her head on his chest, she lifted her eyes to meet Angel's. "Go ahead," she told him, surprised at the calm she heard in her voice.

"It's like this, pet. See that cup over there?" Spike asked pointing to an ornate silver goblet covered with rubies and onyx in a beautiful, patterned design. "With that dagger right beside it, we each cut ourselves and bleed into the cup. Once that's done, Angel here will whisper a few incantations—he'll mix some herbs, pour a bit of our blood in the mixture and light it in that bowl next to the dagger...you know, like a spell, except this is a ritual instead. After he's finished with that, we all three drink from the goblet. Once that part is done, he lays down on the bed next to me and says, 'I, Angelus, childe of Darla, Order of Aurelis, with my free will, blood to blood, I pass my claim of Elizabeth Anne Summers, to my eldest childe—"

"And favorite," Angel added, interrupting Spike.

Buffy felt Spike's muscles instantly loosen at Angel's admission and smiled. Maybe this war would eventually end, she thought to herself.

Clearing his throat, he glared over at Angel. "Can I finish now?" he asked, acting put off, but Buffy could see the humor glinting in his eyes.

Angel nodded, grinning unrepentedly at Spike. "Go ahead."

"As I was saying, he will say, 'I, Angelus, childe of Darla, Order of Aurelis, with my freewill, blood to blood, I pass my claim of Elizabeth Anne Summers, to my eldest and favored childe, William the Bloody, Spike. From this night forward, let it be known to all in every world that she is his.' After that, Angel and I boff, making a point to exchange blood at the height of our pleasure."

Buffy felt her face redden at just the mere thought of watching Angel and Spike together and could feel her desire for both males skyrocket. How in the hell can I make it through this? she asked herself, pushing her pelvis into Spike's thigh in an attempt to alleviate some of her discomfort.

Spike's cool fingers skimmed her back before his hold tightened and he kissed her sweaty brow.

Buffy sighed.

"After that part of the ritual," Angel said, his voice shaky, "Spike then turns to you and says, I, Spike—William the Bloody, childe of Angelus, Order of Aurelis, blood to blood, accept the claim of Elizabeth Anne Summers from thou sire, Angelus. From this night forward, let it be known to all in every world that she is mine!' And then, you two will make love and at the height of your pleasure, he will bite you in a claiming bite. It'll probably hurt, but remember that with you being claimed, you heal even quicker than you did with just your slayer powers. Finally, after he's done, he will cut himself and bleed into your wound, sealing it."

"Apparently, there's a big boom of magical energy that gets released and then it's finished."

Despite her preoccupation, she caught the uncertainty in Spike's voice and raised her head off his chest. "You mean neither of you have done this before?" she asked, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

Angel sighed, his eyes closing in pain. "Buffy, I've never claimed anyone before. Hell, I don't even think Darla ever did. This ceremony is passed on to the older vampire clans with a warning attached—not to do it."

"This is something that only master vampires do," Spike said, picking up where Angel left off. "Minions don't count. Angelus was Darla's childe. Darla was the Master's. Dru, Penn and I were Angelus','" the blond vampire explained. Buffy made a mental note to ask who Penn was and why she had never heard of him before this night.

"Part of a childe's coming of age is the passing on of the dagger with the copy of the ceremony included," Angel said. "Also with those items cut is a verbal list of dire warnings of why a vampire shouldn't take on a claim."

"Do you have one, Spike?" Buffy asked the blond vampire as she ran her fingers across his chest.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, stilling her. "Yeah love—mine's in a safe-deposit box in London—"

"Safe deposit box? You have money to pay for a safe deposit box, don't you?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

"Well yeah, pet. I've been around for 200 years; of course I've got the money," he said, matter-of-factly.

She sat up, yanking her hand from his as she glared down at him. "Then why the hell have you been living in a crypt for god's sake? And charging my watcher for your help. And...complaining because you didn't have any money… And you were scaring people to rob them! And all this time you had the funds!"

Angel snickered softly and Buffy glanced over at him to see his chest shaking with mirth. "What the hell is so funny? I don't understand vampires..."

"Fuck you, Peaches," Spike said, snatching Buffy's wrist and tugging her back down on top of him. "Well, first of all, I had no money or a place to make a call. And then once I got free reign at the Watcher's, I was..."

"He was doing it on purpose, Buffy," Angel said, interrupting Spike. "Since he couldn't terrorize you guys, he was irritating you the best way he knew how."

"Angelus!" Spike snapped at his sire. "That's not the only reason, pet. Once I decided to go on my own, I decided to wait it out and find out if I even needed to make the call. I'm a vampire, slayer! I don't have a soul and a crypt is just fine."

Buffy shook her head incredulously. She couldn't believe Spike. "We're talking about this later," she told Spike as she took a deep breath and forced herself to stay on track. No matter how much in control she appeared to be on the outside, inside her emotions were churning at an unbelievable pace...not to mention adding anger and perplexion at Spike into the mix...it was a wonder she could manage to follow the conversation, much less participate in it.

"What about the bowl and cup? Did you get those handed down to you as well?" she asked Angel, ignoring the blond vampire that was currently caressing her back. God, this feels good, she thought to herself as his cool fingers not only calmed the confusion, but nearly made her purr in enjoyment.

"I bought them at a magic store before I left LA tonight," Angel said, still grinning at his childe. "The dagger I've found among Darla things. That, and a bunch of other things I had thought were gone after I lost my soul. Once the Master was dead, I went down to her lair and sorted through her things. She must've kept it all these years," Angel added, shrugging slightly.

"Why do sires tell their childer not to do this—the claiming?" she asked, silently agreeing with that thought.

"Because a claim is a commitment—especially if the person you claim, remains human. It lasts as long as you—I mean, the vampire—does," Spike clarified.

"It also reeks of love," Angel said in a voice reminiscent of his soulless counterpart. "At least that's what my demon thinks. And we all know how he abhors any type of human emotion."

"One last question," Buffy said as she propped her head on Spike's chest. "Why do it, then? I mean why not just bring whomever across? Why even come up with this type of ceremony if no one likes it?"

"Tradition," Angel said. "There's not much left of that nowadays...especially here in the States. In Europe, I wouldn't be surprised at meeting a few people who've been claimed that are still alive. Logically, if applied correctly, the human could prove useful in quite a few areas that vampires are still held back from...daylight, holy items, invitations."

Buffy nodded, knowing that there were still a few questions that remained unasked, but she couldn't seem to get her mind to function properly to ask them. Although just being in Spike's and Angel's presence had calmed that raging need that had been plaguing her for weeks, it still wasn't good enough. Being this close to them all the while knowing that soon she would be satiated was also nearly her undoing.

She needed this now.

She lifted her head up and saw that Spike had been watching her. His fingers played with her hair, sending pleasurable chills down her spine. "I think someone's a bit anxious," he said, turning to Angel.

Angel nodded stoically as he stood up and walked over to the table where the dagger and goblet sat. Spike let go of her hair and smacked her softly on her bum. "Up we go, love," he said, sitting up. Buffy pulled herself up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Once we drink from the goblet, you can sit in the chair, Buffy. But nowhere else—we need to remain in the circle."

Buffy's eyes dropped to the floor at Angel's words, not remembering seeing a circle and was surprised to see an even line of salt curve around the room—even going behind the bed and the chair and ending at her feet.

Shaking her head, she walked over to the table and stood next to Spike—intuitively understanding Angel's need for her to remain out of his reach. After nearly nine months of being around him the year before—of seeing and not touching—she could only imagine how hard it was for him right now—to be in the same room with all three of them naked and the smell of desire permeating the very air she breathed.

It was nearly impossible for her.

Turning her attention to Angel, she watched as he sliced the palm of his hand and held it over the goblet. She felt her mouth water at the sight of his thick, deep red blood and decided to ask them about this later on. Buffy had expected to feel repulsed, not enticed, but she found she didn't have the energy to pursue it. Instead, she just watched as it poured into the cup for nearly a minute before he pulled up his hand and licked the wound. Spike followed Angel's lead, repeating his actions and a minute later Buffy was holding the dagger in her hand.

Taking a deep breath as she prepared herself for the pain, she quickly sliced her hand—forcing herself not to flinch—and held it over the goblet.

"That should do it, love," Spike said a moment later, lifting her hand up as he wrapped a clean cotton cloth around her wound.

Angel dumped a bunch of herbs into the bowl, and whispered a few Latin phrases before picking up the goblet and pouring a dollop of their mixed blood into it as well. Lighting a match, he dropped it into the container as well, his voice rising with the incantations. Suddenly a bright, white flare erupted as Angel spoke the last phrase. He then picked up the goblet and took a deep draught of the blood, his demon face sliding over his features. After he finished, he handed the cup to Buffy, motioning her to drink.

Although she had tasted blood before—more specifically her blood—she knew this was going to be different—and the slayer part of her feared what was going to happen to her.

But despite her innate fear, all it took was one serious glance from Spike and she lifted the goblet to her lips and let a substantial amount pour into her mouth. Before even swallowing, she handed the goblet to Spike and took a deep breath through her nose, quickly allowing the blood to slide downwards.

She expected nausea, maybe repulsion but never the wave of power that surged through her as she suddenly became poignantly aware of the two vampires with her. It was as if just for a second, she could sense them even more than she had since this whole thing started. Angel's love of her and of Spike—Spike's unspoken devotion towards her and his reluctant love for his souled sire. And just barely tickling her awareness was the raging hatred of Angelus directed towards all three of them.

Her eyes closed as she felt a cool chill envelop her. Fuck you, Angelus, she silently taunted the vampire. You didn't win—I will live.

Suddenly, Spike's hand was tugging on her arm, prodding her towards the chair. Nodding, she fell down on top of its cushions and waited.

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Chapter Six

Angel took a deep breath and closed his eyes—reveling in the power that their combined blood brought.

He could do this.

I have to do this, he thought to himself as Buffy's scent nearly overwhelmed him. It was everywhere—in the air—in the blood he had just consumed—yearning for something that until a couple of hours before, she didn't even have a name for. And now that she knew what she had to do to give her peace, he could almost feel her need—stretching out from her to them—begging both of them to just do something—anything to break its hold on her.

Angel knew it would only get worse if he didn't follow through with the ritual.

And yet, just the thought of saying those words out loud, shattered his soul.

After this night, he would no longer have any claim on the love of his life...she would belong to another...to his childe. The same childe that spent over a hundred years fighting Angelus' ghost for Drusilla's heart. The same childe that once again was taking up the lead in cleaning up after one of Angelus' messes.

How could Angel ever thank Spike enough for doing this, and yet, at the same time, how could Angel ever forgive him either?

Another double-edged sword his demon gave him—deepening the respect and alienation he already felt for his childe. Damned either way...

Shuddering, Angel opened his eyes to see Spike watching him—his dark blue eyes flickering with a strange combination of understanding, need and anxiousness.

"It's time, sire," Spike whispered, stepping into Angel's personal space. "The chit's not going to wait forever."

Angel risked a glance at Buffy and wasn't surprised to see her once again hugging her knees as she rocked methodically back and forth in the same chair he had just occupied minutes before.

He could tell it was taking every bit of strength she had in her to wait—not to reach out and touch them...so she could have the claim reinforced.

Just as his own need to make her his was pushing his control to the edge.

The elder vampire sighed softly and turned back to Spike. He held out his hand for his childe to take. Spike grabbed it, visibly shivering at the contact as he kept his eyes locked on Angel's while the elder vampire spoke the words:

"I, Angelus, childe of Darla, Order of Aurelis, with my freewill, blood to blood, I pass the claim of Elizabeth Anne Summers, to my eldest and favored childe, William the Bloody, Spike. From this night forward, let it be known to all in every world that she is his."

As the last words slipped from his mouth, Angel could feel the magic in the air stir—swirling around the three of them, pushing him closer to Spike.

Buffy forgotten, their lips met and in a flurry of pent up emotion, they embraced, falling onto the bed behind them.

It had been so long since Angel had touched his Will in anything other than anger, that he nearly cried out in relief at the familiar taste of his childe's mouth. Even when he had last lost his soul, their reunion had been anything but pleasurable.

His demon despised all human emotions—especially those feelings secretly harbored by Angel—and saw Spike as a weakness. Despite the fact that the demon had cared for Spike as much as any sire could care for his childe, when Angelus came into being the second time, the rage and fury of being suppressed for so long in the cage the curse made for him, pushed Angelus' to the brink of madness. He rejected everything that his soul held dearly, despite its own desires. Angelus' may've still wanted his childe, but because his soul cared for Spike, Angelus saw his only choice was to punish the blond vampire—just as Angelus had been punishing the slayer.

Angel couldn't help but see the irony in that, knowing that it was Angel's demon's rejection of Spike that led his childe down the road that eventually stopped at a truce being made with the slayer. If Angelus had treated Spike better than he had, so many other things that had gone wrong during Angelus' four months of freedom, wouldn't have happened.

As Buffy would say, 'Ain't life a bitch?'

He could only agree.

But as he ran his fingers down his childe's cool and taut body, Angel whispered a thanks to whomever watched out for souled vampires for allowing him this opportunity to show his childe how he really felt about him. It wouldn't take away the heart-wrenching pain of losing Buffy, but it could make the suffering a bit more bearable.

That was all he could ask.

"So beautiful," Angel whispered as he lifted his head up, breaking the kiss. "It's been too long, Will."

The younger vampire groaned at the sound of his given name—his hands touching Angel everywhere—conveying something for more than just the sexual union required by the spell—something more than the frenzied, blood-filled sex that used to be a part of Angelus and Spike's life together—something more than the respect that Spike always sought after.

No, Spike wanted Angel's love and Angel was determined to show his childe how much he did care for him. With that thought, Angel's need grew even stronger, and he finally could stand it no more, breaking away from Spike's enticing mouth. Slowly and methodically, he began nipping and kissing his way down his childe's face to his neck—pausing for a moment to suckle that area around the jugular which was an especially erogenous zone for all vampires.

Spike bucked up—pressing his hard cock against Angel's—groaning audibly once Angel moved away from his neck down towards his collarbone. After running his tongue across the hollow part in Spike's collarbone, Angel heard a soft moan and realized it was Buffy.

For a second, he stilled.

Spike growled softly in his ear. "Angel," he implored, as he clasped Angel's hard cock in is hand and gently tugged on it.

"You've always been an impatient thing," Angel said, laughing softly.

"Fuck you," Spike shot back, chuckling ruefully. "Now, are we going to worry about the slayer all night or do something about it?"

"Good point," Angel said, as he quickly dipped his head down and ran his tongue across his childe's erect nipple.

"Shit..."

How long had it been since Angel heard his childe's soft curses in the bedroom? He asked himself as kissed his way down Spike's chest to his stomach, stopping to run his tongue along the edge of the blond vampire's bellybutton. Angel heard him hiss as his stomach muscles rippled in need. Deciding he had tortured his childe enough, he quickly licked and nipped his way down through his dark patch of hair to Spike's groin, growling softly at the sight of the younger vampire's hard cock.

Angel lifted his head enough to see Spike's face and grinned at the picture his childe made: his blond head thrown back, his eyes shut in anticipation as his face flickered from his human mask to his demon countenance...

Spike looked like a vampire ready to come undone.

With that in mind, Angel nearly dived for Spike's cock—ignoring his own needs—instantly running his tongue around the head as he lapped up the precum that had already seeped from its slit. Angel groaned softly at the taste and the thousands of memories it brought with it. How many times? he asked himself again as his mouth closed in on Spike's cock, nearly swallowing it.

Relaxing his throat muscles, Angel found himself for the first time since he had a soul, thanking his vampiric being when it came to sex: he didn't need to breath, he couldn't choke, so it was much easier to train himself in the art of deep-throating...and his senses were so much clearer and intense than they had ever been as a human...

Spike tried lifting his lower body, and Angel quickly grabbed his childe's hips, stilling him, reveling in the power he had over his childe at that moment.

Another growl filled the room, and Angel couldn't help but chuckle softly around Spike's cock, causing the younger vampire to groan even louder as his arousal increased. Taking pity on him, Angel began moving his head up and down at a quicker pace, moving one hand down to cup Spike's balls.

Spike’s growls and moans were becoming more frequent and Angel knew that his childe would be coming soon and decided it was time to begin preparing Spike for the next step. Angel moved his hand up from Spike's sack to his cock, covering his forefinger on his downward swoop of his mouth, wetting his finger. Once that was done, he quickly placed it at the small, puckered opening just below Spike's balls and slowly entered him, groaning as he felt his childe's body clench him. God, he missed this...

That was all it took to push Spike over the brink, and Angel felt his undead heart lurch at the sound of his name on his childe's lips.

Sighing softly, Angel lifted his head from his childe's crotch and sat up, grinning at the look of satisfaction on Spike's face. As he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the lube that he had brought with him, he couldn't stop the regret he felt as it curled its way into his heart. He didn't want this one reunion with his childe to be it. He wanted more times with Spike—more times to add to all those memories his demon had of the years spent with the blond vampire.

Even as he berated himself for not reaffirming the sire-childe bond that he and Spike had before this, he understood why he hadn't done something like this before now.

No matter how much he cared and loved his childer, he couldn't deny the clawing disgust his soul felt at the thought of his progeny continuing the legacy of death and violence Angelus had begun. Such a dichotomy of feelings swirled inside of him every time he thought of Dru, Penn, and of course, Spike—that it pushed him into doing nothing. Never showing Spike or Penn the desire that their presence still spawned in him nor the confusion these emotions created in his heart.

As he squirted a generous amount of lubrication on his finger and began preparing Spike—enjoying his childe's moans and purrs—he forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing—their pleasure—wanting, despite everything, to make this time to be memorable. After teasing the small puckered entrance, Angel slowly eased his finger inside—grinning in anticipation at how it would feel to finally be inside of Spike...after all the years. Once Angel was satisfied that Spike was taken care of, he ran his hand up and down his cock with his already slick hand, enjoying the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine caused by his own touch.

He looked down at Spike, still smiling, and met the younger vampire's intense gaze as he patted the blonde's leg. "Turn over," he commanded softly, inwardly reveling in his childe's eagerness as Spike rolled onto his hands and knees.

Just as he was about to enter Spike, Angel found himself suddenly needing to see Buffy. This whole thing was ultimately for her. He would've never been here—with his childe in front of him—ready to be taken by Angel—if it hadn't been for the elder vampire's love for the slayer.

She had shifted positions since the last time he looked her way. Now she was sitting in the chair with her legs down and crossed at her ankles as her hand's clutched the wooden arms on either side of the chair. Her breath was rapid—a thin line of sweat was covering her brow—as wave after wave of her unique and aroused scent filled the air. She lifted her head and their eyes met—startling Angel with the wild, almost uncontrollably need he saw her hazel depths. He could see, touch and feel her arousal as if it were his own and the desperation that lingered underneath the surface.

For her, he thought to himself. This is for her...

Spike broke the eerie silence that had suddenly settled upon the room as the younger vampire growled loudly, impatiently backing into the brunette vampire.

Angel turned away from Buffy and chuckled softly at Spike's wiggling bum. "Patience, my childe," he whispered, lightly caressing the blonde's pale bottom.

"Patience my ass, Peaches! Quit staring at the bint and get to it! You're driving me batty here!"

"I'm sorry, Will," Angel said, positioning himself at Spike's entrance, readying himself for the act. He had planned on taking things slowly—it had been so long since he had been Spike and Angel who knew when they would have this opportunity again—but once again, his childe's impatience blew whatever intentions Angel had out the window. Once Spike felt the tip of Angel's cock pressing against him, the blond vampire unnexpectantly lunged backwards, forcing his sire's cock all the way inside until Angel's pubic hairs were plastered flat against Spike's tight buttocks.

Angel growled, nearly losing whatever control he thought he had.

Once again, Spike took control when Angel paused, trying to catch his breath, and began moving forward. Angel's hands gripped Spike's hips, stilling his childe before he could move again. When Angel was sure he wasn't going to lose it, he first began to move at a steady pace, but not even a minute later, he realized how futile that hope was...

Too many things were against him. Buffy's scent, which had nearly taken on a cloying quality—filling the room with her desire and need—as well as his childe's receptiveness, it was just too much for the nearly celibate Angel to remain in control. He looped his arm around Spike's waist and grabbed the younger vampire's hard cock as Angel felt the telltale signs of his impending orgasm.

If he hadn't heard Buffy moan, he would've forgotten to utter the last stanza of his part of the ritual. Glancing over at the young blond woman that would forever hold his heart, noting that her whole body was now shaking in need as her glazed eyes stared—mesmerized—at Angel and Spike, was all he needed to remind himself. Seconds before he came, he whispered the six words that signaled the end of his claim to Buffy: "Let it be sealed by blood."

Quickly, he dropped his other hand down to Spike's mouth as he himself sunk his fangs into his childe's neck—spurring one of the strongest climaxes Angel had ever experienced in his long unlife. As Spike's rich blood flowed down his throat, Angel felt sting of his childe's fangs as Spike bit him. Seconds later, the younger vampire bucked up underneath Angel, squeezing the brunette's spent cock as Spike came in Angel's hand.

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Chapter Seven

"Bloody hell," Spike whispered as his knees collapsed and he fell forward onto the bed, dislodging his sire.

Rolling over onto his back, he glanced over to see Angel sighing softly, licking his lips. "I concur."

Chuckling, Spike leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed his coat, digging through its pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. Once he had them in hand, he looked up to see the slayer staring at him as she wiped her sweaty brow. "Come 'ere, love," he called out to her, holding out his hand.

Buffy jumped out of her seat and into his arms, nearly squishing his cigarettes in the process. Holding her tightly against him, he felt her shaking body press itself against his as she burrowed her head into his shoulder. "Did you enjoy that, pet?" he asked, already knowing the answer, tasting the sweet scent of her arousal in the very air around him.

She nodded jerkily. "Not enough," she said, her voice low and husky.

Spike laughed, nodding in agreement. "I know, love. Let me smoke this fag here while Peaches over there gets his cute ass off the bed and into the chair, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Peaches?"

"Umm...I'm moving." Angel grunted, rolling off the bed onto his feet. As Spike lit his cigarette, he watched his sire move across the room, circling the bed as he carefully remained within the circle, only stopping to retrieve his clothes.

"How are you feeling, Angel?" Buffy asked, her voice muffled by Spike's body.

"Better," he whispered. "I think I can manage okay."

Spike nodded, having already felt the change in Angel as he inwardly gave a nod to whoever it was that wrote the ritual in the first place. By giving Angel his release with Spike, coupled with the exchange of blood and the incantations, his connection to the slayer had dimmed somewhat—taking away that edginess that had been present in Angel since he had seen him earlier that evening.

And because the spell hadn't been completed, Spike still wasn't as connected to the slayer as Angel had been—leaving him with a relatively clear mind and body.

But the slayer, that was a different story.

It was almost as if she were on the edge of an orgasm—unable to reach a satisfactory conclusion—hanging there at the precept—dangling between unspoken pleasures and excruciating agonies—just waiting for someone to take her away.

"A moment more, pet," he said, unable to quench the wave of tenderness he felt for her as his fingers played with her hair. He nearly groaned out loud when he heard her small whimpers as she squirmed even closer to his touch—instantly feeling his own arousal begin once again. Giving up on his cigarette, he looked over her shoulder at Angel and held out his cigarette. "Take it," he whispered to his sire as he watched the older vampire lean over and snatch the burning stick from his fingers.

Nodding his thanks, he tightened his hold on the shaking blond in his arm and rolled them over, Spike settling in between her legs.

He heard himself groan softly as he felt her heat and nearly said the hell with the ritual just so he could sink himself into her wanting body. Taking a deep, calming breath, he looked down into her troubled eyes and gave her a small smile. "Ready?" he asked her, still in awe at her vulnerability at the moment. It brought out all his protective instincts—something that was so rare in regards to the slayer. She was so self-reliant and independent...nothing like the women he had known as a human as well as a vampire.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Buffy nodded, her hot hands caressing his back in almost a frenzied pace.

Settling down, he braced himself on his forearms as hands cupped her face, stilling her, and began to speak:

"I, Spike—William the Bloody, childe of Angelus, Order of Aurelis, blood to blood, accept the claim of Elizabeth Anne Summers from my sire, Angelus. From this night forward, let it be known to all in every world that she is mine!"

As soon as the words left his lips, he swooped down and kissed her. Almost immediately, she opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue as her body surged forward, pressing impossibly closer to him.

Even as he ran his hands across her hot, mortal body, a part of him couldn't believe he was actually finally making love to her. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when he first saw her at that club, dancing with Chubs and Red. Even then, she had called to him. Of all the slayers he had faced and the two that had died specifically at his hand, none of them had captured his interest and, let alone his heart, like Buffy had.

Whether it was the worn and emotionally spent young woman of two years before who’d faced the demon that had worn her lover's face; or the angry woman that told him she didn't care that his girlfriend was a big 'ho; or finally the same young woman that for one short night months before, he was going to marry because he couldn't imagine his life without her; it didn’t seem to matter. They were all the many faces of Buffy Anne Summers—the only human that had ever seduced him with just her spirit.

And now to know that once the ritual was finished, he would be tied to this young woman, who was making his 200-year-old undead body sing unlike anything he had ever experienced before, until he died gave him that one moment of true happiness his sire had feared for the last year and half. No wonder he lost his soul, Spike thought to himself. Buffy might actually be enough to make up for all the bad things that had happened to him in the past couple of years.

How eerily prophetic that spell of Red's ended up being.

As he moved his mouth from hers and began kissing his way down her face to her breasts—those same breasts he often had found himself staring at while having been forced to participate in the various Scooby Gang meetings, those same nipples he had fantasized about for hours while chained up in the Watcher's bathtub—he couldn't help but feel happy.

Whether his contentment would last an hour or day or year, he didn't care. It was enough to know that for the present, he was at the only place he wanted to be.

So responsive, he thought to himself as she began losing herself to his touch. Her small little hands were everywhere on his body—overwhelming him—and when she grasped his prick, he nearly came in her hand. "Slayer," he moaned, pulling his head up from her chest. "Let me do this for you," he implored, secretly fearing that if she continued to touch him, everything would be lost. Before they had started, he had thought that having found his release with Angel would've taken the edge of his desire; it appeared that he was mistaken. Spike wasn't sure if it was the magic swimming in the air, the call of her blood to his as they lay entwined on the bed or just plain old lust, he wasn't sure. But whatever it was, his body was feeling near manic urgency to join with the slayer—to complete the claim—and to do so as soon as possible.

She nodded impatiently. "Just hurry, Spike," she pleaded as she released her hold on his cock and moved her hand up to rub his ass. "I need..."

"I know, baby," he whispered against her skin, tasting her sweet skin as he worked his way down to her sex. A part of him was ecstatic at hearing her pleas, remembering his words to her two years before: 'I bet you're not the begging kind.'

Groaning at the thought, he continued to kiss her, not stopping until he reached the source of the beautiful aroma that had been teasing him since he had first woken up from his surgery. Dropping his head down, his tongue lapped at her sex, and if he hadn't been holding her down, her reaction would have been to buck him off, her pleasure was so intense.

"Oh God," she moaned, pushing her sex into his mouth. Hearing the neediness and the pain in her voice, he took pity on her and sinking his tongue into her hole, making sure to hit her clit with his nose as he shivered in delight at her taste. Her juices flowed into his mouth...her moans increased...and Spike idly wondered if there was ever a taste as sweet as her spendings.

A few minutes later, she screamed out her release—the muscles in her legs clenching around his head with her preternatural strength—making him, once again, thankful for his non-human state.

If he had been human, she would've killed him.

As soon as her legs fell down, he instantly moved upwards and pushed himself into her hot, waiting hole as his lips came smashing down on top of hers—and as he felt her still quivering channel tightening around him, he nearly came in the process.

Their tongues met and danced with one another as he slowly began moving inside of her, inwardly wondering how a girl who had spent most of the past year in some boy's bed, could be as tight as she was at that moment.

Finally, after nearly five minutes, he felt it was safe for him to begin to pick up the pace. He did so, causing her to moan continuously as he slid in and out of her body. Once he felt the tightening of his balls, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer and moved one of his hands down in between them and stroking her clit.

Her reaction was almost instantaneous and before they both lost themselves to their pleasure, he pulled his lips away from hers and whispered the last incantation needed to seal the transfer of the claim: "Let it be sealed by blood."

And then he came as he sunk his fangs into her jugular, hearing her scream out in both pleasure and pain at the same time as he growled out his climax, absently noting Angel's grunt as well.

Purring softly, he gently pulled his fangs away from her and bit his tongue before returning to the angry bite marks adorning her skin. Three times he had to run his bleeding tongue across her wounds before he felt a strangely familiar thrumming of her contentment fill his mind as the room suddenly exploded in a burst of magical energy, signifying the end of the ritual.

The claim had been transferred.

He gently pulled out of her and rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him to rest on his chest. Even as he sat there watching her as she slipped into a contented slumber, he couldn't help but feel some remorse for his sire. To have to watch the love of his life enjoy something so intense with another man had to be emotionally devastating.

Sighing, he studied his sire, watching the elder vampire as Angel pushed himself off the chair and stoop down, standing up with a stack of clothes. Silently, Angel dressed, his movements controlled and methodical—a sure sign that the scene between Spike and Buffy had deeply affected the elder vampire.

It was at that moment that it finally sunk into Spike, that Angel was no more guilty of stealing Dru away than he was of trying to end the world with Acathla. Although Spike had understood the differences between the soul and demon, never before had he felt it in his heart.

Groaning inwardly, he watched as Angel, now dressed, walked over to the makeshift pedestal, whispered a phrase and then broke the circle. The brunette vampire looked up from the floor and met Spike's eyes, tipping his head towards the door indicating that his sire wanted to speak to Spike in private.

Spike nodded as he watched Angel disappear out the bedroom door, before dropping a kiss on the slayer's drying brow. "I'll be right back, love."

Buffy mumbled sleepily, grabbing for the pillow once Spike slipped out from the bed and hugged it, falling back into a deep sleep.

After pulling on his jeans, Spike grabbed his cigarettes and followed Angel into the living room.

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Chapter Eight

"I'm going to leave before she wakes up," Angel said the moment Spike entered the room. "I can't stay here."

Spike snorted, shaking his head at his sire. "Figures," he shot back. "Just like you to take off and run—"

"That's not fair, Spike!"

"What happened to Will? Or was that just pillow talk between two old demons that used to shag the nights away?"

Angel pursed his lips, staring off to the side of the room. "You don't get it, do you? If I stay here, Spike—there's no way in hell I'll keep my soul. Between the two of you—it'd be gone before I, you or Buffy could do anything about it."

Spike growled, crossing the room to stand in front of his sire. "Wait a minute! What the hell are you saying?"

Angel laughed, his voice harsh and unforgiving. "You're not just Angelus' favorite childe, you're mine. Seeing you two together—making love—because that's what it was, Spike, don't ever fool yourself into thinking something else. I know, I've made love to her before. I know what I saw.

"To see you together like that—knowing that all it would take was a few steps and then I could be there with you and her—together. I almost lost my soul all over again. I can't do it. I've got to go. Tell her I love her," Angel whispered just before pressing his lips softly against Spike's—quickly backing away.

He lifted his hand out and tossed a set of keys to Spike. "The mansion keys. If you're staying—it's yours. If not, maybe Buffy'll take it. There's also a key to my safe-deposit box at Sunnydale National. The deed to the house is in there—as well as some cash. Keeps you from calling your lawyer for awhile," Angel added, a slight smirk curling his lips. He picked up his leather coat and swung it over his shoulder. "If you need anything, call Cordelia's home phone. Since the office got blown up, that's where I'm staying until I can find something else. Take care of her and yourself, okay?"

"I will...Angel?"

The dark-haired vampire stopped and looked over his shoulder at Spike. "Yes, my childe."

For a moment, Spike didn't really know what to say to his sire...thank you seemed a bit tactless, even for him. Besides, Spike didn't know how the slayer was going to react when she woke up in the morning. For all he knew, Spike might wake up with a wooden stake pressed against his chest. Sighing loudly, the younger vampire looked off to the side, staring unseeingly at the shadows. "Take care of yourself," Spike finally said, turning his head back to see Angel standing there, fingers clutching the doorknob as if it were a lifeline.

"You too, Spike," his sire whispered and seconds later, Angel left, shutting the door behind him.

As the door closed shut—the noise echoing damningly throughout the room—Spike couldn't help but wonder at the finality of the whole evening.

Everything had changed.

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

Two hours and a pack of cigarettes later, Spike slowly stepped into the bedroom, unbuttoning his jeans as he walked. Stopping only to kick them off, he slipped underneath the sheet and inched his way to the slayer.

He wrapped his arm around her and nearly groaned out loud when she snuggled in closer to him, pressing her hot, naked body flesh against his.

She's going to be the death of me, he thought to himself as he cupped her bare breast, feeling the beginning tendrils of arousal ease their way through his long dead body. He ignored them, feeling unsure of himself for the first time since he had snuck into Dru's room—alone—over a hundred and ten years ago. He remember how he had felt back then—needing her, hating himself for needing this broken shell of a vampire and rage at his sire, for breaking her. And now, here he was with another one of Angelus' women. Even though this time, Buffy was the one bound to him for an eternity, Spike wondered if that really made much difference. Although Spike had been in love with Dru, she hadn't felt the same for him in the beginning. When Angelus' had disappeared, Spike had no problem taking care of the female vampire—he would've done it regardless of his responsibilities as Angelus' favorite childe because of Spike's feelings towards Dru. Eventually, his dark princess had come to love Spike as well, so for nearly a century they were together—in love—just as Spike had always dreamt of.

At least that's what Spike had always believed until Angel had lost his soul and returned home to his childer. Dru changed right before Spike's eyes. She stopped looking at Spike with a twinkle in her eye and love in her heart. She turned to her precious daddy for that, leaving Spike alone—adrift—in a sea of betrayal.

Even after Spike and Dru had left Sunnydale, their relationship never recaptured the devotion and passion that it once had.

Angelus had destroyed it.

So, how different would it be this time—with Buffy? Really?

Both women needed him, but did either one of them really love him?

If Angel found a way to anchor his soul, would Buffy run back into his sire's arms—leaving Spike alone once again?

Emotionally and physically exhausted, he groaned, forcing his mind away from the present quandary. It was a pretty much a moot now, since the claim had been successfully transferred. Any doubts he had had should've been vocalized hours ago, before they performed the ceremony. As far as how the slayer felt, well other than whisperings of contentment that felt through the bond, he had no idea. And until she woke up, there wasn't much Spike could do about that.

His eyes closed in defeat, finally just submitting to the relaxing thrum of his mate's slow and steady heartbeat as he slipped off into unconsciousness.

The End

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