The Demon in Me
by Spikeschilde

Chapter 1


Buffy slipped through the shadows of the night as fast as her legs would carry her. Nothing about the night seemed out of place, yet she kept throwing worried glances over her shoulder. What if he was following her? What if someone had seen her escape? She picked up her pace, wincing as her bare, torn up feet thumped heavily against the pavement.

Buffy almost sighed in relief as she neared her Watcher’s apartment. Shooting one last glance over her shoulder, she slipped quickly down the steps and knocked on his door. She took several steps back as she heard Giles making his way to the door before it was opened with a flourish in front of her, as if he had been expecting someone.

His appearance was unkempt, his eyes glassy and tired, as though he hadn’t slept in days and his face held the growth of at least day old stubble. Yet, a light of hope seemed to appear within his eyes as he took in the form of his Slayer, alive before him, albeit in a broken and bruised state.

“Buffy!” Giles almost wept with relief as he went to take a step forward and sweep his Slayer into a hug. She took another hurried step back out of his embrace and held her hands up before her to ward off any more advances.

“I’m so sorry, Giles,” she said as she turned her tears stained face to his. He looked at her in confusion, taking in with no small amount of horror the shackles that still held fast around her raw and bloodied wrists. “I’m so sorry.”

“Buffy? Why don’t you come-” Buffy’s eyes went wide and she shook her head rapidly, cutting him off mid speech.

“Don’t invite me in. I…” She took a deep shuddering breath and dropped her head forward to avoid his disapproving stare. “I think I have been turned.” Giles looked down at the girl in front of him, who he considered to be like his own daughter, in surprise.

“Been turned? Buffy, surely you would know if you had been turned or not. There are signs; acute hunger and the need for human blood, a need for violence and destruction of all that is good around them, just to name a few. If you had been turned, Buffy, I feel sure that you would know it,” he said trying to reassure her. Buffy shook her head sadly and never let her eyes stray from the ground before her.

“Then how do you explain this?” Giles gasped as Buffy raised her head. Whatever he had been expecting when she looked up at him, it was not the sight he was greeted with. Her green eyes were glowing brightly and her ears had extended at the tips into cat like points. She looked like some mystical form of feline and as she opened her mouth slightly he could see the tiny points of her fangs. The rest of her teeth had stayed the same.

She was most definitely no vampire. She had taken on an almost ethereal quality in her transformation. The air around them seemed to be humming with warmth. He could feel the sense of good in the air and knew his Slayer was nothing to be afraid of.

“See. I told you.” Buffy dropped her head dejectedly again and let her features shift back into that of her human face. The shocked look in Giles’ eyes was enough to tell her that he didn’t trust her anymore. She didn’t blame him.

“You’re not a vampire, Buffy,” he said softly, causing her to jolt sharply out of her inner musings and instantly become defensive.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m a vampire.” Giles shook his head slowly.

“No. You’re not. Come inside and we’ll talk,” he said, stepping forward and clasping her hand before she could take another step back. The shackles around her wrists clanked loudly and his attentions were drawn to them once more. They needed to get them off her, give her wrists a chance to heal. First though she needed to get cleaned up. She was covered in dried blood and dirt. Her clothes were ripped and torn, and her feet bloody and bare. “Where have you been?”

Buffy took a shaky breath as she sat down softly on the couch. Her hands fidgeted absentmindedly with the bands of metal around her wrists as her eyes darted around the room.

“I didn’t know what would happened, Giles. I swear if I had known I wouldn’t have done it.” Her eyes were wide and tear filled and Giles felt his heart tighten just that little bit more.

“It’s okay. Just tell me what went wrong. Who did this to you?” he asked softly, sitting down beside her and placing a comforting hand on her knee.

“Angel. Well not Angel—I don’t know.” Giles frowned as he tried to wrap his head around what she was saying.

“Are you saying that Angel…tortured you?” She nodded her head, then stopped and changed her mind and shook it gently.

“Something happened to him. He’s different somehow; he has teamed up with Drusilla again.” She looked down at herself, holding out her shackled wrists slightly. “This is their work. I think they must have realised I wasn’t a vampire when I woke up; either that or they do this to all the new vamps they turn.” Giles took his glasses off and polished them hurriedly.

“Oh, good God! Angel must have somehow reverted back to Angelus.” He turned back to his distraught Slayer. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up. I’ll call your mother and the others.” Buffy shook her head emphatically and Giles gave her a confused look as she stopped him from standing.

“I don’t want them to see me like this. They wouldn’t understand; I don’t think I can bear to see what they think of me now. This is all my fault, Giles. I went and turned myself into a monster and let a homicidal maniac loose on the world.” She couldn’t meet his gaze as she spoke to him. She was ashamed of what she had allowed herself to become.

“They have a right to know, Buffy. They are your friends and family and we all care for you. No matter what’s happened, they will still love you. I still love you. You’re like a daughter to me and I will see you through this.” He looked at her with raised eyebrows as he waited for her answer, which came in the form of a small nod of her head.

“Okay. Do you mind if I stay with you, though? I don’t know what I am, or if I am dangerous. I know you at least will have a chance of protecting yourself against me. Mom wouldn’t stand a chance.” Giles smiled and got up from the seat.

“Of course”


***


Twenty minutes later found Buffy freshly washed and sitting in the dark in Giles’ spare bedroom. She was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the wall as her newly heightened senses picked up every noise coming from the living room downstairs. She heard ever word, every intake of breath, every cry of outrage and every sob as Giles told her mother and friends what had happened. Of how she had been turned into something less than human, but still was Buffy; of how she might be more sensitive from days of torture; of how Angel was not to be trusted under any circumstances. Everyone was down there, even Cordy. Buffy shuddered and pressed herself further into the corner of the wall, the shackles around her wrists clanking.

She stifled a sob as her mind unwillingly replayed the events of the last few days, hanging from a ceiling while being tortured for what she was and what she had failed to become. She heard footsteps on the stairs and could tell by the weight of them that they were male. That left three choices: Xander, Oz, or Giles. The first two were unlikely.

“Buffy?” Bingo! She didn’t reply or bother to move when he opened the door slightly. “Are you going to come down? Your mother’s here. She’d like to see you.” He slipped in quietly and crossed the room to sit on the bed across from her. She sniffled slightly and shook her head.

“No. Just tell her I’m sorry and that I love her, okay? I don’t want to go down, Giles. I’m not sure I trust myself; I don’t want to put them in any danger.” He frowned slightly but nodded his consent, though he didn’t make a move to leave the room.

“How long has it been since you last ate?” His frown grew when she shrugged.

“I don’t know. I can vaguely remember someone trying to feed me when I was almost unconscious. I can’t remember if I dreamt it or if it happened though. I can’t imagine any of the minions going against Angel’s or Dru’s orders.” Giles nodded grimly and stood up from the bed.

“What would you like then? You have to eat; it should help your body start to heal as well.” Buffy gave her Watcher a small smile.

“Anything you have got lying around is fine. I’m not really all that hungry anyway.” He gave her a small nod and walked towards the door, pausing only once to look back at her. “I’m not coming down, Giles.” Nodding again, he walked out of the room and shut the door.

She heard him descend the stairs and relay her message to the group. She heard her mother instantly start to protest. She had to suppress the smile that threatened to come over her face as she listened to them all start to protest. It was times like these that you realised how much you were loved by the people around you.

She shivered again when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Female this time. She caught the slight scent of lavender and knew that it was her mother. Buffy didn’t need super senses to work that one out. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she couldn’t even begin to imagine her mother’s reaction. The woman had found out all in one day that vampire existed and her daughter was destined to fight them, that said daughter lost her virginity to one and had been turned into some sort of demon, and that she had also been missing and tortured for days.

With these thoughts running through her mind, she didn’t answer the timid knock on the bedroom door.

“Buffy?” At the sound of her mother’s voice she wanted to fling the door open and fall into her mother’s arms, but the fear of rejection kept her in place. She watched as the door opened slightly and her mother poked her head in. Even in the dark she could clearly see the slight fear on her mother’s face. “Buffy?”

“I’m here, mom.” Joyce’s gaze swung to the corner of the room and the sound of her daughter’s voice. She could only see a vague outline of Buffy in the almost pitch black light, but it was enough for the moment and Giles had said that the bright lights hurt Buffy’s new sensitive eyesight. Joyce stepped fully into the room and stumbled her way across to the corner that held her daughter.

“Oh, Buffy! I was so worried!” Buffy watched warily as her mother shuffled across the room and crouched down before her. She almost burst into tears as Joyce reached out and touched her arm softly, comfortingly. “Are you okay, honey?” That seemed to break her and Buffy launched herself into her mother’s arms and started sobbing in earnest. Joyce sighed in relief and clutched her daughter tightly, not noticing the blood that seeped through Buffy’s clothes and onto her hands.

“I was so scared.” Joyce felt tears begin to fall from her eyes as she stroked her daughter’s hair. She was still Buffy. She was still her little girl.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now.” They held each other for a while longer while each woman calmed themselves down and took comfort from the other’s presence. “Why don’t you come downstairs? Everyone wants to see you. Nobody cares what was done to you, just that you’re safe.” Joyce pulled back and looked into her daughter’s eyes as best she could, brushing Buffy’s hair out of her face in the dark.

Buffy hesitated. She took a deep breath—if she could survive being tortured by Angel, she could brave this. At her mother’s quiet encouragement, Buffy pulled herself to her feet and took her mother’s hand.

She recoiled again sharply, however, as soon as they stepped into the light and she heard her mother’s gasp of horror. Buffy slowly realised that it was only due to the extensive injuries that were visible and the shackles that still bound her wrists. She had multiple cuts all over her where they had bled her, was covered in black and blue bruises, and had an angry looking gash that ran from the middle of her forehead to her temple. The rest was hidden under the overly large t-shirt Giles hand lent her and the rolled up sweat pants.

Joyce looked down at her hands and saw the traces of blood smeared across them.

“Oh, Buffy--.” She took her mother’s hands quickly, hiding the horrific sight of her child’s own blood on her hands. Joyce looked up at her daughter in horror.

“It’s okay, mom. I’m fine. I survived didn’t I?” Tears were running down her face as Buffy turned and led her back down the stairs. She had almost forgotten her friends were waiting for her at the bottom as she tried to console her mother.

It was Willow’s sharp intake of breath and tearful hug that reminded Buffy of the situation. The red head had embraced her gently to avoid the various cuts and abrasions on her. Joyce still stood numb beside her daughter.

“Giles can you help mom? She’s a little upset about how much I’m hurt.” Giles quickly walked over to help the Slayer’s mother and Buffy then turned to the four teenagers who were staring at her in the living room.

“God, what did he do to you, Buff?” Xander asked as he too stepped forward to give her a gentle, yet relieved and tearful hug. She hugged him back firmly before stepping back and out of their reach. Cordy and Oz both stepped up to stand beside their respective partners and she gave them both small smiles.

Buffy suddenly felt like she was on show, standing before them ready to be dissected as they all stared at her with varying forms of emotions playing across their faces. She began to feel claustrophobic and stepped back again.

“You look…awful,” Cordy said as she took in the bruised and bloody state of the Slayer.

“Thanks, Cordy. It’s good to know I can always count on you to put things into perspective for me. I look shocking, I know this. Surprisingly, I still have a reflection.” Buffy noticed the grim looks on her friends’ faces and sighed heavily. “I’m fine guys. I’m alive aren’t I? Nothing too serious—forty percent physical damage and the rest is all the emotional kind.” She gave another small mental sigh of relief as Giles entered the room again and walked over to them.

“Are you alright?” Buffy gave him a meek nod.

“I need some help dressing and binding the wounds on my back, though. You up for it?” Giles frowned slightly and readjusted his glasses.

“I am assuming by that, that you are asking whether I am willing to help you or not?” Buffy gave him a small smile and nodded her head. Giles looked around the room. “Yes, well I suppose we could do it in here.” He led her over to the chair by his desk and sat her down so she was straddling it backwards. “If you could lift the back of your shirt, I’ll be right back.” Buffy glanced quickly at her friends before lifting the shirt over her head, unashamed to be sitting on the chair in nothing other than a sports bra and sweatpants.

The sharp intakes of breath and Xander’s muttered queasy ‘oh God’, was enough to let her know that the damage on her back must look pretty bad.

“Dear lord.” Giles spoke almost fearfully as he re-entered the room with his medical kit. He looked down at the small box and then back at the expanse of her back. There wasn’t going to be enough in the small kit to bind all that needed to be bound. His slayer had been whipped, burned, staked, cut…there was a particularly brutal looking wound on her back which appeared as if she had been run through with some type of broadsword.

Giles approached her hesitantly and placed the medical supplies on the table off to her side.

“Buffy.” He said it so softly that she was forced to turn towards him, where she caught sight of the horrified look on his face. She decided then and there that she wasn’t going to show him the front of her and the area where Angel hand carved his name into her chest. She would tend to that herself.

“It’s okay, Giles. Just looks bad. The bruising and cuts will fade in time.” She turned away from him again, only tensing slightly when he placed a soft hand on her shoulder.

The Ripper in Giles reared his head at the sight of his surrogate daughter’s injuries, and his voice turned sharp and authoritative.

“Willow, could you go get me some warm water and some soft cloth please. Xander, I need you to go to my closest and get a sheet and start tearing it up into strips. Cordy and Oz, go make sure Buffy’s mother is lying down and doesn’t come out of my room until we tell you it’s okay. Can you do that?” The teens were already in motion, and Giles looked back down at the tortured body of his Slayer. Angelus and his bitch would die a slow and painful death if he had any say in the matter.
tbc..Chapter 2


Angelus let out a roar of fury and plunged the stake he was holding into the cowering minion’s chest. The rest tried to appear unafraid in the face of their master as they watched the sixth minion of the night turn to dust before them.

“She escaped,” he stated out loud in a sarcastic manner, “and would anybody like to tell me how the little bitch got out?” Spinning around he seized another of his minions by the throat and lifted him in the air so his feet were hovering a good foot above the ground.

The minion Angel was holding let out a gurgling sound of protest from the pressure Angel was exuding upon his neck. Angel watched in a morbid satisfaction as the vampire grappled at his hand, trying to pry his fingers off of his throat before his head was literally torn from his body.

“Sorry? What was that? I can’t quite hear you; you’re going to have to speak up.” Angel spoke in a mockingly sincere voice as the minion struggled in vain in his grasp. “I want her found, and I want her brought back alive. I don’t care how you do it. If she is not back by morning, those who return without her will be dusted.”

Angel squeezed just that much tighter as he said the last word and the remaining minions watched as the vampire Angel had been holding sprinkled to dust before them, knowing full well that by morning that would be them if they returned without the Slayer.

Spike watched from the confines of his wheelchair as Angelus dusted his way through the minions, Drusilla hanging off his side and dancing with glee at each vampire he killed. Spike smirked to himself as he gazed upon them, knowing full well that by morning he would still be without the Slayer.

By now the Slayer would be safely tucked away in the house of one of her mates, safe from any vamps without an invitation. Angelus was distracted enough not to notice Spike slip off into the night without the aid of his wheelchair.


***


Buffy avoided the looks of pity her friends were sending her way as Giles secured the last of her bindings. She felt like she was some kind of ancient Egyptian mummy. Her torso was almost completely bound by the white bed sheet Xander had ripped up. Attempting to move, Buffy found movement difficult in the restricting bindings.

“I think we should talk about Angel,” Buffy said as she sat up, slipping the shirt back on over her head and shooting Giles a quick smile as a way of thanks. “You all need to do a disinvite spell or something on your homes. We should all stay together so I can protect you. I doubt there is much more he can do to me that would slow me down. None of you should leave the house at night without me or go anywhere alone even during the day. There is a sewer entrance outside of the mansion to which they have relocated. They can get almost anywhere during the day, especially the school. There is an entrance in the basement that they are able to access, which means no more Scooby meetings in the library or walking back late. I won’t let him do to you what he did to me. No one goes anywhere alone from now on. No one goes out without crosses, holy water and a stake.” Buffy turned around slowly, and saw the grim determination and understanding on her friends’ faces, her eyes finally settling on her Watcher. “Giles, we need to find out if I can move about in daylight and if I need an invitation into our homes. I need to know what I am.”

“Of course,” he said, even as he moved to his book case. “I suppose it is logical to assume that you are either something related to a vampire, or to the demon used to make the First Slayer. Perhaps both.” He passed books out among the teens as they began scanning the pages.

“They used a demon to make the first Slayer?” Buffy asked as she wrinkled her nose and passed the book Giles had handed her to Xander. Giles nodded absently as he read over the title on the cover of a book before replacing it on his shelf.

“The first Slayer was made through the merging of a girl and an almost extinct demon that had been sent directly from the Powers That Be to help even out the numbers of demons and man living on the earth. The name of the demon itself and the magicks used have been lost over the centuries; however, it is know that demon had many similar characteristics to that of a vampire. Hence the title ‘Vampire Slayer’, despite the fact that you kill demons as well.”

“So, you’re saying that it’s possible that I somehow reverted back into this demon?” Buffy’s eyes went wide as a thought dawned on her. “You mean to tell me that I have been part demon this whole time?” Giles’s brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“No, no. As time went on, each generation of Slayer received less and less of the demon that was used to create the original Slayer until only its essence was being transferred. The girls still received all of their powers just none of the demon side effects that the first Slayer experienced.”

“Oh! Maybe then when Angel tried to turn Buffy, he inadvertently woke up the essence of the demon within the Slayer!” Willow exclaimed with excitement. Giles whipped his glasses off as he carefully lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa.

“Of course! It all makes sense,” he said, sharing a knowledgeable look with the redheaded teen seated beside him. “These demons fed off of the blood of vampires to survive, and their lack of a heart beat or need for breath made them immortal. When Angel tried to turn you, instead of your body dying when he fed you his blood, the essence of the demon within you latched onto it!” He shot a quick look across at his Slayer. “You said he made you his childe?” Buffy nodded slowly, not sure she was following where he was going with this. “To do that he would have fed you almost all of the blood he had originally taken from you. It was most likely enough for your body to undergo the changes necessary for your survival. Your heart would have stopped and your breathing ceased; therefore, he would have assumed you to be dead. In fact, you never died; your body just became comatose while it underwent the changes. For all intents and purposes it would have appeared that you had been made a vampire upon awakening.”

“So, does that mean that Buffy’s immortal?” Joyce asked in an awed voice. This was the sort of stuff you watched on the TV or read in books, and her daughter had been living it for the past two years! She was finding herself forming a headache as she tried to follow everything that was being said.

“I don’t know. I have a book…” Giles got up quickly and walked over to the bookcase, where he pulled down an old book that looked like it hadn’t been opened in centuries. He flipped it open quickly and scanned through the pages until he came across what he was looking for. “It says here the original demon that the Powers sent to inhabit the first Slayer could only be killed by beheading or… ingesting human blood.”

“Is that it? I need to know my weaknesses. Can I…. can I go into the light?” Giles gave his surrogate daughter a soft look at the sound of her quiet question.

“I don’t know.” The room fell into a heavy silence as Buffy could feel each and every one of their eyes on her.

“So, Buffy’s some kind of—super Slayer. Only she needs vamp blood to survive. What happens if she doesn’t get it?” Xander’s question broke the deafening silence. Buffy gave him a small thankful smile.

“I would say that the symptoms would be close to that of a vampire. She would be unable to revert back to her human features and she would progressively weaken and be unable to control her powers until she became almost a living skeleton.” Joyce’s face paled as she pictured a malnourished Buffy in her mind.

“So we need to find her a vampire she can eat.” A series of varying grossed out expressions passed across the faces of the room’s occupants at the statement they had never thought they would ever hear.

“I’m not going to eat a vamp! That is like so gross, who knows where those things have been!”

“Buffy, it could very well be essential to your survival” She scrunched her nose up and looked at her Watcher.

“Giles, you have seen some of those vamps. They look like they haven’t had a bath in weeks. It’s not like I can get clean vamps hand delivered!” The irony of her statement was not lost on her friends as there was a knock on the door. “It’s Spike.”

“Spike?” Buffy nodded and got up to move towards the door slowly. “I thought he was confined to a wheelchair.”

“So did I,” she said as she quickly opened the door. “Spike.”

“Slayer.”

Chapter 3


“What? Not going to invite me in, pet?” He watched as the Slayer gave him a hard look and pointedly let her eyes trail down to his legs.

“You can walk” he gave her a slow smirk and rocked back on his feet slightly for effect.

“Yeah, funny that. I can also do a mean impersonation of Elvis” Spike watched as she ignored his comment and felt the urge to pout that she wasn’t going to return his banter. It was the one thing he like about this girl compared to the other slayers he had fought, she understood and appreciated his wit when fighting. Hell, she even gave as good as she got.

“I won’t let you take me back” He smiled at her wariness, then his eyes fell on her still shackled wrists.

“I’m not here to make you” her dubious look increased.

“You’re not” she stated sceptically with a hint of the old sarcasm he was used to.

“No, Angelus and Dru have no idea that I’m here. Or that I can walk” he slid his thumbs into his belt loops as he spoke, drawing her eyes down to his groin involuntarily. He smirked slightly and rocked forward thrusting his hips out slightly causing her eyes to widen and shoot back up to his face a light shade of pink tinting her cheeks “They do, however, currently have almost every minion they control out hunting you. I tracked your scent here easily enough; I’d say you’ll have at least a dozen or more minions on your doorstep in the next, oh say, 30 minutes?”

Buffy scowled at him as she realised what he was saying was true. She had forgotten that vampires could track scents, and she had spent three days ripening while hanging from a ceiling so she had no doubt that they would find her. “So what are you doing here, Spike?”

“That’s easy. I want to help you bring that bastard down” Buffy couldn’t help the slightly hysterical giggle that burst from her mouth.

“You want to help me kill Angel and Dru?” Spike arched and eyebrow at her before correcting her statement.

“No I want to help you kill Angelus. Dru’s not part of the deal” Buffy sobered quickly glaring darkly at the vampire before her.

“I’ll think the state of my body can attest to the fact that she is” Spike frowned slightly. As much as he hated Dru right now, she was his sire, his dark princess, his ripe wicked plum and with the poof gone she could truly be his without the shadow of Angelus overhanging everything she did, everything they shared.

“I’ll help you kill the Poof and then you let Dru and me skip town. You’ll never see or hear from us every again, I bloody well hope”

“No deal” Spike scowled at her letting a small sharp growl of annoyance burst from his chest. “I won’t kill one notoriously vicious master vampire and then let another two loose on the streets for helping me. Whether you like it or not bleach boy, Dru will be dusted along with Angelus. You can do all you want to stop me but I can assure you, that neither of them will walk away from this”

Spike felt a new appreciation for the Slayer before him, despite the words she was practically spitting at him in anger. She was a hard girl to please and he knew she would never agree to anything that let Dru walk free “Fine, we’ll leave Dru out of the deal altogether. I’ll help you kill Angelus and then I will skip town. All bets on Dru are off, if I manage to leave with her you don’t come hunting after us and if you dust her, I’ll still leave and not come back to reap vengeance”

Buffy watched him hard unable to gage whether he was telling the truth or not but came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter. She would kill both Dru and Angelus and then if he did come back she would kill him two. She nodded slowly and then allowed her hand to pass through the invisible barrier guarding him from her watchers home, “Deal”

Spike smiled and shook it slowly, both knew full well that the other would go to any lengths necessary to obtain their final goals in this mess and Spike once again found himself appreciating the fact that he knew she wouldn’t go into the battle with only half her heart in it. He knew that when it came to fight her to kill Dru, he would be fighting a Slayer at her full potential. That would only make the honour of defeating her more memorable.

“On your word that you don’t touch a single one of my friends and family, come in, Spike” He arched an eyebrow at her slightly and walked in past the threshold of her home. He could see her pals giving her horrified looks as she let him pass into her home and smiled slightly “Take a seat”

Spike looked around the room and made to take the spare seat next to the cheerleader. A sharp growl resounded through out the deadly silent flat and he looked back over his shoulder at her dark look before reassessing the situation and taking a seat farthest from the rest of her friends. “You might want to look into doing some sort of cloaking spell, Slayer. Angel’s minions find you and you’ll lead the soddin’ poof straight to your Watcher’s house. Not to mention the fact that they would find out that I’m inside”

Spike smirked at the scowl she gave him before turning to face her Watcher. “Giles, do you think we could manage that?”

Giles startled slightly and looked up at his charge as she addressed him breaking him out of his thoughts centring on the fact that an evil killer had free access to his home. “What? Oh, yes, of course. Willow?”

The redhead shot up out of her seat quickly and edged her way around the group making sure she stayed well out of the grasps of the bleached menace.

“Mom, can you take notes?” Joyce looked up at her daughter as she handed her a pad and pen and had to admire the way she took control of things. “So how do you want to do this?”

Buffy willed herself to keep her attention solely on his face as he sat sprawled out in one of Giles’ armchairs, his ‘devil-may-care’ attitude and strategically arched eyebrow coupled with her accidental crotch ogling earlier doing nothing towards keeping a flush from staining her cheeks.

“Personally I’ve always like being on top” Buffy felt her face heat up as his gaze travelled down her body suggestively before smirking back up at her.

“You’re a pig, Spike” to her chagrin he chuckled at her before lifting his arms to cross them behind the back of his head comfortably.

“Oink! Oink!” his smirk grew when the scent of her arousal filled the air and he growled softly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the werewolf tilt his head slightly as he sniffed the air, the raising of his eyebrows the only indication that he had smelt anything at all.

“Fine, we’ll do this my way. I want to know everything that could be expected of Angelus in this situation”

“Well, I can’t rightly say can I? Angelus has never turned a Slayer before, hell I don’t think there has been another Slayer turned in history” Buffy frowned slightly; they didn’t know she wasn’t a vampire? “I can tell you though that he’s got a big old yen to get you back again. Right pissed that you escaped”

“But Buffy’s not a vampire. Why would he-” Buffy groaned at the sudden perk of interest in the vampire’s body language. She could have turned around and bitch-slapped the brunette and her big mouth through till next week.

“Cordy!” the cheerleader turned angry brown eyes to her boyfriend who was glaring at her meaningfully. “Shut up” Here eyes narrowed into tiny little slits as she glared at him.

“What? All I said was Buffy isn’t a vampire, it’s not like the bleached wonder didn’t already know that” She said rolling her eyes and slumping back into her seat.

Buffy shut her eyes and tried to rein in her raging emotions. That just blew that possible advantage out of the water. She opened her eyes again and found glittering blue eyes looking up at her in amusement and barely concealed interest “Actually, pet, I didn’t. Thanks ever so”

“What lengths will he go to? I want examples, I want to know what to expect from him” Spike looked at her long and hard for a moment, indecision clearly read in his eyes. He wanted to prod her for answer’s find out what she was and what she was keeping from him, but finally came to the conclusion that that would get him know where but a dusty finish.

“He won’t come for you directly, he try and get to you through your loved ones. Use them to lure you to him then kill them off. The sod takes the term mental torture to a whole knew level. He’ll try and break you, drive you mad like he drove Drusilla of her rocker. I don’t know whether he plans to keep you or kill you but either way, you’ll be the last on his list. He won’t touch you till his killed, turned, or maimed everyone that you love or hold dear” Buffy felt and icy chill go through her and looked around at the people in the room quickly, her eyes finally coming to rest on the horror filled orbs of her mother. Her resolve hardened.

“Right, that settles it, no one goes anywhere alone, and I mean anywhere. Not the bathroom, not out shopping, not clubbing, not work. Not even in broad daylight. Xander, Cordy, and Oz you guys can all move in with us, and Wills of course. I don’t know if Giles will leave his home, but our house is bigger it will fit everyone. Once we are there we’ll set up a cloaking spell and I’ll see is Giles’ knows any protection wards”

“I have a book on them at the school” Buffy’s head swivelled around as her Watcher and Willow re-entered the room. Buffy nodded.

“The cloaking spell?” Giles nodded quickly in conformation.

“In place as we speak. It is only temporary, should hold till morning. Your scent will still lead them here. However, all of our presences are masked” Buffy nodded once more.

“Good” She glanced at the cloak on the wall quickly and noticed the late hour. “I think we should all stay here for the night. The cloaking spell should keep us off Angel’s radar; we can work out finer details in the morning”

“We need to do something about the shackles” Giles said taking her hand gently in his and examining the rusted metal that bound them.

“Here, give them to me” Spike said getting up from the chair and surprising everyone as he moved forwards to help the Slayer. He slipped his fingers under the bands and felt around so he had a tight grip on them “You pull that way I’ll pull this way, yeah?”

Buffy nodded in understanding and steadied her footing as they both began to pull as hard as they could. Slowly they felt the steel begin to bed under their combined strength till the band that had once been tight around her wrist was bent enough for her to wriggle her hand free. She sighed in relief and instinctively brought her raw wrist to her chest, rubbing it gently to relieve the pain.

“You ready?” he asked indicating to her other wrist. She nodded and took up her stance again as the process was repeated until she was finally free of the shackles.

“Thanks” Spike frowned slight and gave her a tight nod as he moved towards the door.

“I’ll keep you informed” he called over his should as the door swung shut behind him. The group let out a collective sigh of relief and relaxed into their seats. They were all exhausted from days of worrying and countless nights kept up with worrying.

“You guys should get some rest. I’ll stay up and keep watch. I don’t think we will be getting much until this is over” Buffy said as she moved to take a seat in the chair that the bleached vampire had just vacated.

“I’ll sit up with you” Giles offered. Buffy smiled and shook her head softly.

“No. Sleep. You all need it, I’ll be fine up by myself” She could sense his reluctance to let her sit up alone but eventually exhaustion won out and reluctantly they all agreed. Giles went to find them all blankets and they all settled down until eventually the house was quiet and the all the occupants save one was asleep.

Chapter 4


Angelus rolled his eyes impatiently as he let his huge form flop down onto the bed. He didn’t understand how his grandchilde had put up with Drusilla’s constant presence for over a century. Even in her most lucid moments, she was hard to tolerate unless he was pounding her into the mattress.

In the past he had always been able to turn to Darla when Dru’s insane ramblings became too much for him. He would thrust Dru into the waiting arms of her timid poet to handle and crawl into the bed of his sire to romp away the daylight hours. He’d be damned if he’d let Spike look after Dru now though, not when he knew the pain that seeing him claim Dru back as his own would cause.

Another loud moan from the corner of the room broke Angelus’ inner monologue and he turned irritated brown eyes on the huddled form of Drusilla. She had pressed herself as far as she could into the corner of the room, shaking and sobbing and just about driving him out of his mind with irritation.

“Little sister has terrible confusion. Such terrible confusion! She follows the sunshine when she should follow the moon.” Dru flinched violently as her hands flew to claw at her hair and she doubled over to lie along the ground. “Ooh! She is covered in light, covered in it! She is glowing…effulgent! Mummy’s little sister is wrong, all wrong. I can’t abide by it! The pixies are mad at what we have done, my Angel. ‘No tea and cakes tonight. You have been a bad girl….a bad girl’ they tell me.”

Angelus growled violently as he watched Dru rolling around on the floor. Swiftly pulling himself to his feet he walked over to her and picked the sobbing vampire up by her hair and delivered a backhanded slap across her face that sent her flying to the floor.

“I am sick to death of your ramblings, woman! I don’t care about the pixies and the sunshine. I don’t care about anything except getting that insolent childe back and making her scream until she can’t help but beg for mercy!” Dru whimpered from her place against the wall but didn’t say anything else. He didn’t know—didn’t understand—and his unwillingness to listen would be his downfall.


***


“No.” Giles took a deep breath and tried in rein in his frustrations at his adamant Slayer. It was just the two of them in his apartment, while the rest of the Scoobies were at school and Joyce was out making some last minute preparations to ready her home for the arrival of her house guests who would be staying with her for the next week or more.

Giles closed his eyes briefly to refocus and forced himself to take the calm and factual approach to try and make Buffy listen to what he was saying.

“Buffy, I understand your reluctance. However, if you wish to learn anything about the powers you now possess then tests are going to be necessary. To my knowledge, nothing like this has ever occurred in Slayer history. I have nothing to go by, nothing to tell you. Everything that we find out is new.” He could tell by the determined set of her chin that he was getting nowhere with her.

“What, no vamp has ever tried to turn a Slayer before?” His nerves grated at the sarcastic tone of her voice.

“Of course they have! However, this has never been the outcome!” Buffy shot up out of her seat so she was standing toe to toe with him.

“You just said that you don’t know that for sure!” He gritted his teeth tightly and clenched his fists at her stubbornness. What on earth did she think he was going to try and do to her?

“What do you want me to do? Ring the council? Then what? They will send a team out here to either dispose of you as a possible threat or take you back to England to be studied like some bloody experiment!” She deflated slightly under his gaze and he realised this was going to be the only chance he got to convince her. He took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone. “Buffy, I am not going to do anything to purposely endanger you. I merely want to see if you can touch holy objects, or whether you are vulnerable to sunlight. I would never willingly try to hurt you, but we need to know your limits if we are to take Angelus down.”

Giles frowned slightly when he saw a single solitary tear fall from Buffy’s eyes and make its way down her cheek and past the fading bruises. Reaching out hesitantly, he touched her arm and pulled her to him, relieved when she collapsed into his embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled against the tweed of his jacket but he smiled slightly none-the-less.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I know what you’re going through must be difficult, but we’re your friends—your family—and you can trust us not to hurt you.” Buffy nodded meekly against his chest before pulling back.

“I know that. I do. It’s just…” She turned her head away from Giles’ expectant look. “What if I can’t go into the sunlight anymore? What if I can’t leave the house during the day to be with my friends? I’m only 17; I don’t want to spend my life alone in the shadows.”

Buffy let herself be pulled over to the couch and sat down by her Watcher. “That’s why we should do these tests, Buffy. For all we know the sun may have no effect on you…and, if it does we will deal. You’ll never be alone.”

“What happens when I live forever and you guys are all dead?” Giles’ placed a comforting hand on her knee and offered her a small smile.

“We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. Let’s just take things one step at a time.”


***


Xander Harris liked to think that he had seen a lot in the time he had known Buffy as a friend—vampires, werewolves, witches. Hell, most of the things he had been told were hiding in his closet or under the bed were real and living in Sunnydale. None of that, however, could have prepared him for the sight of Buffy standing in Giles’ courtyard that afternoon as he, Cordelia, Willow, and Oz made their way down to the Watcher’s apartment.

Her arms were spread wide as she twirled about in the light. She had a blissfully happy look on her face, one that he had never seen her wear before. That wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks though. He barely even moved an inch as his girlfriend crashed into him from behind.

“God, Xander, why don’t you--” Cordy’s sentence was cut off abruptly as her gaze followed his and landed on Buffy.

“Holy shit!” Xander quickly sent a knowing glance back to the werewolf before returning his focus to his best friend. He vaguely heard Willow gasp behind him and her mutter of ‘oh goodness’.

“Is she?”

“Uh-huh.” Xander turned his eyes on an extremely happy and oddly proud looking Giles as he watched his Slayer laugh and twirl about in the sun. “G-man, you do realize that she is glowing, don’t you? And I do mean in the literal sense.”

Both Slayer and Watcher turned to look at the frozen group standing on the steps. Buffy laughed happily and bounded over to them.

“Guys, check me out. I am officially 100% vitamin D receptive.” Xander gave her a nervous laugh as he made his way down the rest of the steps. The others close on his heels.

“You’re also kind of glowing,” Oz noted as he took his stunned girlfriend’s hand and led her down the rest of the steps.

“Yeah, why exactly is that?” Buffy shrugged at Xander’s question and danced backwards into the light again. “Giles?”

“I can only assume that it has something to do with the demon in her now. I can’t say I have ever seen or heard of anything quite like this. There was no mention in any of the texts of the demon used to create the first slayer glowing in direct light.”

“You gotta admit it’s pretty darn cool though.” Willow tore her eyes away from Buffy to smile at her boyfriend.

“Darn tootin’. She looks like some kind of angel,” Willow said, finally coming out of her daze. “I guess this means school’s a no go?”

“What?” Giles asked, turning towards the young red head “Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. Well, perhaps we should get a move on, we need to make sure we can make it to Buffy’s house before dark, and we still need to perform the disinvite spells.”


***


Spike had to wait once more until Angelus was occupied before he could take his leave. His elder had arisen even more petulant than he had been upon Spike’s return the night before, and he could only assume it had something to do with the wails he had heard the last few hours before sundown, coming from the room Angelus and Dru shared.

The poncy bugger still had no idea how to calm his childe when she was in one of her moods. He never had. Only this time Angelus’ pride prevented him from blowing her off for Spike to deal with, which suited Spike just fine. Let the poof suffer.


***


Spike quickly slipped through the streets of Sunnydale heading first to the Watcher’s house, making sure he kept to the shadows. He could sense Angelus’ minions still out hunting the Slayer. Few had dared to come back empty-handed the night before, and those who did had been dusted as promised.

He chuckled slightly as he let his mind wandered back to the Slayer. What would happen when Angelus found out she wasn’t a vampire and that he had no claim to her as her sire? Spike’s own curiosity had been more than piqued as to what exactly the young blonde was. He had heard no heart beat coming from her the night before, but unfortunately that led him to no answers as to what demon she might be. He knew of only a few species, vampires included, that had no pulse. Unfortunately she fit the description of none of them.

He made a quick scout of the Watcher’s place, and upon finding it empty, he headed off once again in the direction of the Slayer’s home. Spike could smell the lingering mixture of vanilla and spices that told him the Slayer had been there only a few hours earlier, and he found himself unconsciously licking his lips as he made his way out of the apartment complex and towards Revello Drive.


***


Spike made his way around to the back of the Summers’ residence upon his arrival, knocking on the back door. He smiled as he heard all movement inside the house stop as the occupants attempted to identify just who it was. He smirked as he saw the Slayer appear at the back door and open it to him.

“Evenin’, pet.” Buffy arched an eyebrow at him and opened the door further.

“Come in, Spike.” He was about to accept her invitation and take a step through the doorway when suddenly several things happened simultaneously: One of Angelus’ minions jumped out at them from nowhere; Buffy morphed into that which was her demon nature; and Spike felt something carnal snap loose within him as he let out a deep growl.

His own features morphed involuntarily and he stumbled backwards slightly from the sudden sensory overload in the presence of Buffy’s demon. He watched through glazed eyes as she dusted the minion effortlessly and turned to look at him. Both were panting heavily despite their lack of need for the air that entered their lungs. Spike stared at her through hungry amber eyes as he took in the sight of her.

Spike thought that Buffy was beautiful in her transformation, and he felt all sense of control leave him as he slammed her roughly up against the side of the house, his mouth descending upon hers with a ferocious desperation that was born solely from his demon’s need to possess her.

The two were a mass of whimpers and small snarls of pleasure as they seemed to devour one another in desperation, unable to shake the features of their demons in their sudden fervent lust. Buffy’s arms wove their way around Spike’s neck as he pushed her more forcefully into the side of the house and the front of his body melded against hers.

“Sweet merciful Zeus!” The two tore apart from one another to look at the boy standing in the doorway with wide eyes as he took in the scene before him. Their demon features melted away and horror suddenly dawned over them as they pushed away from one another.

Buffy blushed a becoming shade of crimson as her eyes went wide before quickly turning her head away. Spike had a look of stunned confusion on his face.

“Sweet mother of mercy, I did not just walk in on that!” Xander turned around and walked back into the kitchen, leaving both the vampire and the Slayer standing alone on the back porch.

“I’m gonna go…inside,” Buffy said as she made her way towards the door before stopping and turning around quickly. “I, ah, don’t know what just happened, I think maybe we should…?” Spike nodded his head eagerly, not completely meeting her eyes.

“I’m right there with you, pet. Never happened,” Spike replied as he followed her into the house, shaking his head as he tried to decipher what had just come over him.


Chapter 5



“We need to discuss tactics for taking out Angelus,” Giles began, once everyone was seated in the living room of the Summers’ home. Buffy was making a point of studiously avoiding Spike and his gaze, taking the seat furthest away from him as possible and pretending that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Spike currently seemed to be employing the same strategy as he sat sprawled out in the chair across the other side of the group and absently picked at his flaking nail polish. She could tell though, despite the mask of indifference he wore and by the rigid set of his shoulders that he was just as disturbed by what had occurred as she was.

“Well, your tactics are all going to depend on when the Slayer is ready to take her boyfriend on. He’s got minions out looking for her almost round the clock under the threat of pain of torture and dusting if they return empty handed,” Spike said offhandedly. Giles got a slightly pinched look between his eyebrows as a sudden thought occurred to him.

“That would mean that the number of minions at the mansion would be fairly low at the moment, correct?” Giles asked. Spike’s eyebrows rose as he caught on to what the Watcher was saying.

“Far as I know, probably only ‘bout 5 or 6 left to guard the place.” A small Ripper-like smile appeared on Giles’ face at that shared piece of information.

“Then if we can find some sort of cloaking spell that will mask Buffy’s presence, now would probably be the best time to attack. The rest of us can handle the minions and that will leave Buffy and you to take care of Angelus and Drusilla.”

Buffy felt her concentration being pulled away from the conversation flowing back and forth between the two men as a strange pain shot through her stomach, which made a loud gurgling sound. She frowned slightly and looked down at it. God, what was wrong with her?

A small growl was subconsciously torn from within, inadvertently drawing the attention of everyone in the room over towards her as she looked quizzically down at her belly. The gurgling noise sounded again and she rubbed her hand back and forth over it questioningly.

“Buffy?” Buffy’s head shot up upon being addressed by her mother and her cheeks heated to a light shade of pink as she realised everyone was watching her. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yeah, fine. My stomachs just making these weird noises.” As if on cue, her stomach again gurgled loudly, and her demon features flickered over her face fleetingly.

A loud rumbling growl sounded throughout the room as Spike felt his demon once again reacting to the presence of Buffy’s demon and all eyes turned to him. “Your demon is hungry,” he said by way of explanation for his strange behaviour and all eyes turned back to Buffy once more.

“Hungry? But I just ate like whole bowl of pasta!” She replied in exasperation.

“Your demon needs vampire blood to survive, Buffy,” Giles said, softly reminding her. Her eyes went wide and she started to shake her head.

“Oh, no, there is no WAY I am sinking my fangs into the neck of some random vamp. Do you have any idea where I find those things? Who knows when the last time they washed was.” Buffy pinned her Watcher with a pointed stare. Giles fidgeted under her gaze slightly before he shot a furtive look at Spike who was seated next to him.

The vamp in question shot to his feet quickly as he caught the look the Watcher sent him and the implications of what was going on set in place.

“You are off your bleedin’ rocker if you think I’m going let your Slayer chew on my neck. What the hell type of demon needs vamp blood anyway?” Buffy shot a disgusted look in his direction.

“Please, like I’d feed from you anyway.” She gave an indelicate snort and rolled her eyes. “I know where you’ve been.”

“Oi! I’ll have you know that I am VERY biteable,” Spike retorted in a smug matter-of-fact tone that had Buffy raising her eyebrows sceptically.

“Oh I bet you are. If you’re planning to contract some type of terminal disease,” she bit back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The heads of the remaining occupants of the room swung back and forth between the two as they listened to them argue.

“I’m a vamp, I can’t get diseases,” he sneered with a smug expression plastered across his face.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t carry them,” Buffy said, morphing into her demon face again as she felt her temper and hunger rise.

The effect was instant. A low growl resonated from within Spike’s chest and he once again slipped into game face involuntarily. Buffy echoed the growl and her eyes flashed purple the split second before she jumped him, her fangs instantly finding their way into his neck.

Spike moaned and stumbled backwards a few paces under the force of her movement, slamming hard up against the wall as his hands instantly flew to her hips to steady her. He moaned loudly at the feel of her tiny fangs buried deep within his neck as she drew bloody hungrily from him.

Giles, Joyce and the Scoobies watched on in a stunned silence as Buffy fed from him. It was quite evident by the undiluted expression of ecstasy on Spike’s face that he was not in the least bit put out. His eyelids were half closed and his eyes glazed over as the amber pigment of his irises bled through to purple.

For Buffy it was like nothing she had ever tasted. Flavour blossomed into her mouth as she pulled harder on the wound, drawing out more of the delicious substance. She ground down against him gently as she let out a small whimper of pleasure and she started to give off a faint glow. It was only the small growl of warning that resonated from Spike, indicating that he was growing weak that had her pulling back.

They was a collective sigh as they parted, and everyone in the room relaxed. Buffy let out another small growl and Spike’s demon features instantly melted away. His expression was heated as his gaze stayed trained on her. She was glowing softly, a white light emanating from her being.

“Remarkable!” The spell that had seem to hang over them was broken by Giles’ small remark, and a smug mask instantly fell over Spike’s features blocking out any hint of expression that had previously been seen on his face.

“Remarkable? More like ew! I can’t believe they just did that in front of me. I am going to be like scarred for life. Have you no consideration for others?” Buffy turned and let out a vicious growl at the brunette before her own demonic features slipped away.

“Wow!” Willow said completely awed by the sight of her best friend and completely ignoring the cheerleader’s comment. “That was like…wow! Except for the whole humping Spike in front of your mother thing, that wasn’t so… but the other? Wow”

“Willow!” Buffy shrieked, absolutely mortified.

“Very cool.” Oz added. Buffy bushed and shut her eyes in embarrassment. “With the changing, not the humping.” She groaned and covered her face as she flushed an unflattering shade of beet red with the borrowed blood.

Giles coughed uncomfortably and removed his glasses from his face as he began to polish them rapidly. “Yes, well…a-am I correct in saying that Spike’s demon has an instant reaction to your own?” Buffy nodded her head meekly. “Remarkable.”

A loud snort came from the couch and Buffy’s head swung to look at her mother.

“Remarkable,” Joyce echoed as she stared at Buffy with a dazed expression on her face and a slightly pink tinting to her cheeks.

“It’s bloody embarrassing, that’s what it is. I knew you couldn’t keep you soddin’ fangs out of me, Slayer.” Spike spoke, as if he had suddenly regained the use of his voice.

Buffy’s embarrassment quickly turned to anger in the face of his taunting tone.

“Oh, like I meant for that to happen. Who knows what I just picked up? This is entirely your fault!” Buffy ran her hand roughly across her mouth as if to rid if from disease.

“Me? I think you’re forgetting who jumped who here,” Spike retorted with an infuriating chuckle. Buffy scowled.

“I wouldn’t have if you didn’t make me go all demon-girl!”

“I didn’t make you do anything, Summers. Admit it, you like jumping the Big Bad,” he stated with a leering smirk planted across his face.

“Please, in you’re dreams maybe,” Buffy replied as she rolled her eyes. There was no way he could know how close to the truth THAT statement was. She’d never live it down.

“More like nightmare,” he muttered under his breath.

“God, do you like ever shut up?” Cordy said as she watched the two in exasperation. “Get over it already!”

“I’m over it. He’s the one who’s all hung up about it,” Buffy said as she crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture.

Giles sat down heavily in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. Good lord, what he wouldn’t give for a good scotch right about now. He watched as Joyce got up and left the room. Deciding to follow her, he stood quickly to get away from the bickering children—because that’s what they were, even if one of them was a vampire over a century old.

“Drink?” Joyce asked, pulling a fresh bottle of brandy out of a cupboard as Giles entered the kitchen.

“Please,” he said, not bothering to mask the hint of desperation in his voice. Joyce poured them both a glass and left the bottle sitting open on the counter beside them. They both knocked their drinks back quickly as the fight in the next room escalated to an all time high, before reaching deftly for the bottle again. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 6



This was beyond the point of ridiculous. Two nights—two fucking nights—and still not even a sighting of his newest childe. Angelus paced the length of his room back and forth, questioning for the first time whether his decision to have his minions track Buffy down had been the smartest decision he could have made. Most of the minions had yet to return, either with his childe or with news of where she could be found.

Those who had returned brought little news, saying only that they were able to follow her scent for a while before it trailed off, leaving them with no indication of her whereabouts. Needless to say they had been dusted for their failure, tied up and left out to burn in the morning sun.

The problem was that his patience was wearing thin, almost to the point of being nonexistent. She was a prize, that one; a rarity that he and he alone had the pleasure of owning. The more she eluded him, the more he found himself wanting her—desiring her above all else.

Dru had become more and more irritating with her insane ramblings. Not even the amount of pleasure that he drew upon from her body could sate him. Every time he closed his eyes, Buffy would dance across his mind and all desire to pound into his insane childe would abate. Instead of using her as an object of his desire she had become merely a much needed, yet unsatisfying release.

Despite the obvious and unwanted presence of a soul in his newest childe, Angelus had never desired a creature more than he did her at this point. Not Dru and not Darla. Nothing he ever felt for them could compare to the want he had for his turned Slayer. Buffy held his ever waking thought; she had become his obsession as Dru had once been, and he planned to break her just as he had broken Drusilla. Just as soon as he had the little bitch back within his grasp.

A loud growl of frustration emanated from his chest, and he stalked over to the door of his room. Throwing it open roughly, he picked up his coat from the back of the chair in passing and swung it on over his shoulders as he made his way out of the mansion.


***


All of the lights were burning brightly at 1630 Revello Drive, yet Angeles couldn’t feel the presence of a single being within the house. Not one heart beat reached his ears and try as he might, he couldn’t feel the presence of his errant childe.

He was absolutely positive that she was inside the house.

Angelus found himself circling the residence slowly as he peered in the windows, looking for any sign of movement coming from within. It was too quiet for a deserted house, especially one which had its lights burning brightly from within. He smirked to himself as he made his way around to the back porch.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called out in a sing-song voice. Smirking, he walked up onto the back porch, making sure to stand out of the stream of light that was shining through the window of the back door.

It had to be a cloaking spell, he was certain she was within the walls of this house.

Angelus’ hand reached out, and he briefly contemplated opening the door and testing whether his invitation had been revoked. He knew that walking in there by himself, when she most likely had all her buddies with her, could only be inviting trouble when he didn’t know what he would find.

Yet, he needed some sort of confirmation. Lifting his head he sniffed the air for even the slightest trace of her scent.

Angelus stopped abruptly when the scent hit his senses. Not the scent he had being testing for, yet far more disturbing and telling all the same. Furrowing his brows he sniffed again.

A predatory growl resonated deep within his chest. Suspicion stole over his features. There was no mistaking it. Spike’s scent was all over Buffy’s back porch.


***


The Summers’ house was quiet the next morning when Giles awoke. He felt like crap, reminding him of his younger days—wilder days. His voice felt rough from the abuse wrought by his overindulgence of hard liquor; the pressure in his head seemed to be thumping in time with his heart beat and there was a general feeling of queasiness that alerted him to the fact that anything that was to be consumed that morning would be brought back up shortly thereafter. He groaned as he sat up, trying to focus his sleep-bleary eyes on his watch.

“Bloody hell” He moaned groggily before flopping down on the couch again, only wincing slightly at the discomfort it caused his head and lethargic limbs. Nine o’clock was far too early to get up after a night of drinking.

How stupid he had been. Never again would he touch a single drop of that vile liquid. Unless of course, the circumstances leading up to its consumption mirrored those of the night before. Giles groaned again and threw a heavy arm across his closed eyes.

He let his mind wandered absently over the events of the night before, making no further attempt to remove himself from the couch. He had truly never seen anything quite like the reaction his Slayer’s demon had to the blonde vampire. As he had stated many times the night before, it was remarkable.

Giles felt the beginnings of a spark of excitement slowly spring to life in his tired and intoxicated brain as he began to mull over the possible explanations for their mutual behaviour. For a split second he entertained the though of locking them in a room together so he could observe them as they were forced to interact together, before quickly dismissing such an idea.

Sitting himself up, he slowly pushed off the couch and lethargically made his way over to his books. The allure of something new and unknown to discover with the help of his dusty volumes was too strong to resist, despite his hangover.


***


Angelus’ eyes narrowed as he watched the sleeping form of Spike from the doorway to his room. Nothing seemed highly suspicious or off about the vampire before him. In fact he looked the same as he had when he last checked on him three days ago. Yet his senses hadn’t lied, they couldn’t. Spike’s scent had been all over Buffy’s back porch.

Slipping silently into the room, he moved the wheelchair away from the side of the bed until it was just out of the blonde vampire’s reach.

If he was still as crippled as he was before, Spike would be incapable of getting into the chair himself and would be forced to call for help despite his pride. Yet the chair was close enough to the bed that even with slight mobility it was possible for him to reach it. Close enough that in the event of a momentary slip of mind he would move himself effortlessly into the chair without thinking twice about his ‘crippled’ status.

Backing out of the room again, Angelus slipped of silently through the halls of the mansion, seizing a minion roughly as he went.

“You! I have a job for you. I want you to watch Spike over the next few days. Be discreet and don’t let him know you are watching. Any odd occurrences, anything strange at all you let me know. Got it?” The minion nodded hurriedly and let out a small sigh of relief when his master let him drop to the ground. “Good. Don’t let me down”

Without a second thought the minion scurried off down the hall to keep surveillance over the crippled vampire.




Chapter 7



Spike tensed abruptly and then forcibly relaxed as he slowly drifted into a state of consciousness. He could feel eyes practically burning holes into his back. He calmed himself and was about to reach out his senses when he heard the shuffling of feet in the hallway and some small object accidentally being knocked over. He didn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes heavily. The minion desired much in the way of stealth.

Stealth issues aside though, the presence of the minion could only mean one thing: Angelus was having him watched. Somehow the poof had pulled his oversized head out of his arse long enough to be able to learn enough information for him to be suspicious of his ‘crippled’ childe.

Spike’s eyes immediately fell on the symbol of his ‘disability’. His frown grew as he noticed that it had being subtly wheeled away from the bed. It was likely that if he hadn’t woken to the feeling of being watched, he would have moved himself into it without a second thought.

His eyes flicked abruptly to the door again.

“Get in here,” he snarled angrily, almost smirking when he heard the little shriek of surprise coming from his personal stalker. In fact, the smirk was halfway to his lips before he managed to curb the impulse.

Spike watched with some small satisfaction as a bespectacled minion came scampering into his room. He was shaking violently from head to toe and he had a nervous habit of pushing his glasses more firmly onto his face with one finger every few seconds. The fear was literally pouring off of him in waves and Spike felt a thrill of satisfaction go through him that he hadn’t lost all his reputation and intimidation during his short stint in that bloody wheelchair.

“M-master Spike! You’re awake!” Spike arched an eyebrow at the vampire and gave him a mocking glare while reaching for his smokes and lighter from beside the bed.

“You don’t bloody well say” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Spike gave the minion a hard look as he placed a cigarette between his lips quickly and lit up before carelessly throwing both the lighter and his smokes back onto the bedside table.

His relaxed and casual manner did nothing towards calming the nervous minion’s demeanor.

“What’s your name, mate?” Spike asked as he made a great show about hauling himself up so he could lean against the headboard.

“D-Dalton, Master. I served both you and Mistress Drusilla before Angelus returned to the fold.”

“Dalton, ey?” The minion nodded quickly “Well Dalton, why don’t you step inside that door a bit further and tell me why you were watching me?” Dalton’s shivering returned and he looked over his shoulder nervously before taking a hesitant step further into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Well?”

“I was ordered to by Master Angelus. After he returned last night, the first thing he did was come check on you. He found me on his way back from your room and told me that I was to watch you closely for the next couple of days and report back if anything unusual or different occurred.”

Goes out, comes home, checks on ME when he gets home and then discreetly moves the wheelchair? Must have suspicions about me being able to walk again.

How though?

Spike beckoned the small vampire forward until he was within striking distance before lashing out quickly and roughly, pulling the petrified Dalton into an arm lock to prevent him from escaping.

“Listen here. Anything you are about to see stays between you and me alright? I hear a word, or even get the slightest hint of suspicion that you have blabbed to Angelus, and I will make you wish he was the one killing you. Got it?” Dalton nodded his heard rapidly and managed to force out a tight ‘got it’ through his crushed windpipe. “Good.”

Spike threw the minion away from him and calmly rose to his feet. “’Cause I’d hate to have to hurt you,” he stated with mock sincerity before making his way out his window and off into the night.


***


Buffy let out a small growl of annoyance as she opened the back door to admit the bane of her existence. She glared at Spike as he stepped over the threshold with a cocky grin, before slamming the door closed behind him.

“What do you want, Spike?” She asked even as she turned to walk back into the living room and the sea of books and notes Giles had littering almost every surface.

Spike suppressed the chuckle that was threatening to emerge and followed her into the living room, deftly stepping over the piles of books.

“Spike.” The Watcher said by way of greeting before turning his attention back to the books before him. Spike quirked and eyebrow at him silently and moved to stand before the Slayer, completely ignoring the presence of anyone else in the room.

“Slayer, can’t stay long—” he began.

“Thank God,” she muttered rolling her eyes at him. Spike ignored her and kept talking.

“—just thought I’d let you know that Angelus smells a rat.” Buffy’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion even as all activity in the room around her stopped as everyone turned to stare at Spike.

“What do you mean ‘smells a rat’?” Willow asked nervously, placing the book she had been reading on the table and looking to Giles for reassurance. The others all moved in closer so that they could hear what was being said.

“I mean he suspects something,” he said to the group before turning back to the Slayer “I think he’s beginning to suss some things out about me and my ability to walk. He has one of his lackeys watching me.” Buffy’s eyes went wide with rage as she let loose a savage growl and pinned him to the wall by his throat.

“They are watching you and you come HERE!” The astonishment and disbelief was clear in her voice. “Not even you could be that dumb.”

“Hey—” She pulled him a foot away from the wall before slamming him back into it forcefully.

“Are you trying to lead them here? Is it just me or is this beginning to sound more and more like some elaborate ‘Let’s kill Buffy’ plan. Why the hell would you come here if you know you’re being watched?”

Spike pushed her away from him harshly and shrugged his shoulders to resettle his coat around him comfortably. “Do you mind, you crazy bint?! If I wanted to bloody well kill you I wouldn’t have helped you escape!”

Buffy let out an indelicate snort and rolled her eyes at him.

“You helped me escape? Please! I didn’t see you the whole time I was there; no one was around when I escaped! Hence the success.” Spike rolled his eyes at her stupidity.

“Exactly, you bleedin’ moron! Do you really think that Angelus would have just left you hanging there with no one guarding you? Or that you just suddenly had the strength to break free of those reinforced chains?” He asked with such sarcasm that she was taken back for a split second.

Memories of hanging there limply as someone tried to get her to drink some water instantly resurfaced in her mind as she stared at the blond vampire. It had been him.

“It was you. You were the one who was feeding me.” It wasn’t a question. Buffy knew now for certain that it had been Spike.

“Of course it was me. No minion would ever so blatantly defy their master,” Spike scoffed

“Why?” Buffy asked in a measured tone. What possible reason did Spike of all people have to help her? She puts him in a wheelchair and then he saves her life?

“Because I knew you were more than just your average vamp. I didn’t know what you were –and still don’t by the way- but I needed your help; I wanted you strong so you could escape and help me kill that bloody ponce,” he said rolling his eyes heavenward as he spoke of Angel, the irritation and loathing for the vampire clearly evident in his voice.

“I thought you said that Angel was…your sire? Why would you want to kill him?” Xander asked, unsure as to whether he was using the correct term. Spike shot him an irritated look.

“He is” Spike answered, more than ready to get off the topic of his origins as a vampire. Giles perked up at the slip of information.

“He is? I thought Drusilla was your sire. It says in the Watcher’s Diaries that you were turned in London, in 1880, by Drusilla.” Spike sighed heavily as he realised that they weren’t going to let the subject drop until they had all the information they wanted.

“She did. Angelus is my grandsire. He taught me everything I know. Shaped me into what I am today and all that rot.” Giles frowned, confused.

“So why are you so keen on killing him then?” Giles asked as he removed his glasses from his face and started polishing them.

“Because the vampire that came back’s not my sire,” Spike said simply.

“What do you mean? Angel’s been possessed? By some other demon perhaps?” Giles queried, reaching immediately for his books.

“You’re reading to much into this, mate. It’s still Angelus, he’s just off his bleedin rocker. Being stuck with a soul for so longs made his demon a bit…crazed I guess,” Spike replied, in a dismissive tone, hoping that they would drop the bloody subject. “Bottom line is, he’s not the demon he was, never will be and it’s time the bloody ponce was sent to hell.”

“See, now that I agree with!” Xander said enthusiastically. Everyone in the room gave him a questioning look. “What?”

“What’s a sire?” Joyce asked.


***


“Sir? We have the complete translation for you.” The man placed the both the scroll and the translated document on his boss’s desk. Quentin Travers reached for the translation and quickly skimmed over its contents, a small smile appearing on his face.

“Good. I want a team in place immediately, watching for any changes. I want to be informed the minute something happens,” Travers said without taking his eyes off the documents.

“A team has already been put in place, sir. They are watching her as we speak.” Travers nodded.

“Very good,” he replied before dismissing the young council member from his office. Once alone, he picked up the translated version of the prophecy and read it over once more before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I want the holding cell prepared immediately. I should be in contact with you within the next week or so.”


***


Spike knew something was off as soon as he re-entered the mansion through his bedroom window. He scanned the room quickly, noticing his wheelchair was gone and a small pile of dust on the floor beside the bed.

“Spike, my boy, look at you.” Spike spun around quickly and let his gaze fall on the vampire in the shadows. Angelus was sitting in the wheelchair comfortably, his legs propped up on a nearby desk.

“Angelus.”


Chapter 8



“Angelus.”

The brunette rose from the wheelchair slowly and made his way towards his grandchilde with a predatory purpose. Spike had seen that look in his eyes before and he found himself frozen in place as his grandsire approached.

“What I would like to know,” Angelus began, as he started circling his grandchilde, “is how long you have been able to walk exactly? I mean, it sort of explains a lot of the things that have been happening around here lately.”

“Yeah? How so?” Angel ignored Spike’s question as he came to stand before him again and gave him a mockingly friendly smile.

“See I wasn’t sure at first, but then I smelt your scent all over the Slayer’s back porch, and you know as well as I do that you can’t fake someone’s scent. See I think you’ve been able to walk for quite some time now. Helped the Slayer escape, and now you’ve got your foot in the door with her.”

“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”

“She’s mine, boy.” Spike smirked as he realised that Angel only thought he had been getting it on with the Slayer. Better that than the truth. “She is my childe. You have no right to her without my permission.” It was on the tip of Spike’s tongue to yell at Angelus and tell him that Buffy wasn’t his childe—that she wasn’t even a vampire. For what reason other than to rebel against his pig headed sire he didn’t know, but he held his tongue. He didn’t even know what she was yet. “They’re both mine, Spike. They belong to me and always will, you‘re nothing but an object to pass the time.”

Spike smirked to cover up the deep chord of hurt Angelus’ last statement had caused within him. “One I seem to remember you taking quite a bit of enjoyment out of in the past.”

“I never said you weren’t mine as well.” Spike tried to hold back his flinch as Angelus brought his hand up to run his fingers along the dominating bite mark that still adorned Spike’s neck. He had been young and easily dominated by the elder vampire when it occurred. It had been something that haunted him endlessly over the past century—that by vampire law he belonged to Angelus.

A growl was torn unconsciously from Spike’s throat and he pulled back from his grandsire’s touch. Angelus’ eyes hardened as he pulled his hand back and roughly punched the younger vampire in the face.

“Never forget who you belong to, boy. You are mine, and you always will be.” Spike growled and morphed into game face, his amber eyes glinting at his grandsire’s cold hard brown ones. He twisted his head to the side, abruptly cracking his neck before smirking up at his grandsire.

“Why don’t we look into remedying that then?” Angelus’ own features shifted into that of amusement.

“You mean to challenge my claim over you, Willy?” Spike arched his eyebrow at him in a sarcastic manner. “You won’t win. You never have, what will make this time any different?”

“Because this time I want it.”


***


Buffy stood up abruptly from the sentry position she had taken up on the chair across from the couch. A deep growl emerged from within her as she shifted into her demonic features.

“Buffy?” Her softly glowing eyes shifted to a slowly waking Giles as he sat up on the couch. “What’s wrong? Is there someone out there?” She shook her head.

“No, it’s Spike. I can feel him somehow… he’s in vamp mode. He needs help.” She started quickly for the door grabbing her coat and a stake of the table as she went.

“You can’t mean to go after him. Buffy, it’s Spike!” She barely paused in her stride at his fervent whisper.

“I know.” She replied as she paused at the door giving him a look that told him she would explain everything when she returned. “Stay here and make sure everyone’s safe. Nothing should be able to get in the house while I’m gone. If they do, get everyone into the basement. I won’t be long.”

Giles watched helplessly as his charge opened the door and ran off into the night to help save a vampire, albeit one who was helping them in the fight to bring down Angelus, but a soulless monster all the same.

He tore his glasses from his face as he stared at the closed door and began polishing them rapidly on his nightshirt. Could his life be anymore confusing?


***


Both vampires had removed their shoes and shirts so they stood before each other in only their pants. Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath as he and Angelus moved back into the centre of the room and started circling one another.

“Are you ready, boy?” Spike smirked and nodded as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and waited for his grandsire to throw the first punch as vampire lore demanded.

As soon as he saw Angelus’ fist coming he ducked under it and swung a right upper cut punch into his grandsire’s stomach. Angelus let out an ‘oof’ as the unnecessary air was expelled from his lungs and he doubled over.

“Getting slow in your old age, mate?” Spike asked with a chuckle as he danced back out of the way again. Growling in irritation, Angelus shot Spike a look that promised much pain if Angelus were to win the fight.

“Wouldn’t be fair if I beat the shit out of you without you even getting a punch in.” Spike smirked as Angelus unfolded himself again and dove at the younger vampire.

Angelus easily blocked Spike’s counterattack before swinging at Spike a second time. The blonde vampire dodged it easily, ending up behind his grandsire before sending a heavily booted foot into the back of his knee. “Always wanted to see you on your knees before me.”

Angelus growled, sending an elbow back into Spike’s gut before jumping to his feet, spinning and sending the back of his hand across the blonde’s face. “All you had to do was ask, Willy.”

Spike blocked Angelus’ hitch kick by grabbing his foot and flipping him over. Angelus rolled over onto his back while still on the floor and sent his feet into Spike’s stomach, propelling him backwards.

“Why don’t you just face it? You’re never going to beat—” Punch. Dodge. Kick. Block. Feint. Kick. “me.” Angelus laughed, sending his booted foot into the side of Spike’s ribs harshly. He smiled sinisterly as the smaller vampire was sent flying across the room to land heavily against a dresser.

Angelus casually strolled over to where Spike was sprawled out on the floor, hauling him up and sending a fist into his face followed by smashing a knee into Spike’s gut. ‘Just one good blow to the lower spine should be enough to incapacitate him again,’ Angelus thought. He knew Spike hadn’t had a decent feed in months. It would only take one good blow for him to be crippled again.

Spike winced on impact before letting a mask of indifference fall firmly across his face and using his crouched position to his advantage by kicking the poof’s legs out from underneath him.

“Fat lady ain’t singing yet, Peaches.” He sent a knee into Angelus’ stomach and an elbow back across his face as he stood up again. Dodge. Block. Hit. Dodge. Block. Dodge. Block. Spin. Kick. “Argh!”

Angel let a twisted grin grace his face at the agonised cry that had been torn from Spike’s lips. The vampire instantly buckled under his weight as his legs gave out from underneath him.

“Willy, Willy, Willy. What did I tell you, hmm?”

“I don’t know, but I’m telling you to get away from him.” Both vampires snapped their heads up to look at Buffy standing in the door way.

“Hello, my childe,” Angel replied, instantly dropping Spike and letting him slump to the floor as he stalked towards his errant childe. Desire flared within him with her once more in his presence; she called to him like no other.

“Angelus.” Buffy watched the lust flare up in his eyes as they trailed over her body before finally coming to rest on her face. Despite what she had once believed she would feel when she was in his presence again, mind numbing fear wasn’t on the list. She could feel her rage simmering beneath the surface of her skin, but it was held tightly in check as memories of what he had done to her flashed across her mind.

Angel chuckled as he sauntered closer to her. Buffy shuddered and grit her teeth as her hands instinctively curled themselves into fists. She waited until he came even closer. ‘Just two more steps,’ she told herself.

Buffy let her fists fly as soon as Angelus was within range, the force of her swing sending him flying back to smack harshly against the concrete wall.

“I challenge your claim over Spike.”

Chapter Nine



“I challenge your claim over Spike.”

A wave of shock swept through Buffy even as she uttered the sentence. She what? Claiming Spike? It would bind them together indefinitely. Spike would become part of every aspect of her life unless he challenged her claim like he had done with Angel. What the hell was she thinking?

Buffy tried to school her features to not show the shock she felt at herself. She had said it now, and to back down would let Angelus know she was second guessing herself. She bit back her nervousness and looked straight into his shocked and oddly proud eyes. She could do this.

She glanced across at the stunned vampire that was sitting in a heap on the floor, staring at her through shocked and pain laced eyes. She wasn’t used to seeing Spike broken. He was the cocky self-assured vampire that she could never kill. Now though, he looked almost like a little boy from his slumped position on the floor, back supported against his dresser and his useless legs tucked up under his weight. Yes, she could do this.

A pregnant silence hung over the room as each of its occupants came to terms with what Buffy had said. She meant it—meant every word—and there was a determination in her eyes that said she was going to do everything in her power to make sure she won.

The silence was finally broken as an amused and slightly hysterical chuckle cut through the air like a volley of bullets from a machine gun. Angelus ambled upright from his slumped position against the wall.

He brought his thumb to the corner of his mouth and wiped the small trickle of blood away before sucking it off his finger. His eyes never lost contact with Buffy’s and his amused smile grew as she averted her gaze.

“You challenge my claim over Spike?” Angel’s voice rose from a characteristic sarcastically sincere tone, a hallmark of Angelus’, to a whole new level as he considered the ramifications of Buffy’s statement. “You challenge my claim over Spike?”

Buffy arched an eyebrow at him and tilted her head in a manner so eerily reminiscent of the broken vampire on the floor that Spike cracked a smile.

“Yeah” She stated simply as if it were the only obvious and logical answer.

“Why?” Good question. Why did she want to save Spike from his grandsire so badly? She hadn’t even thought when she ran out the door to help him, she had just grabbed her jacket and run from the house. It was only as she drew closer that she was somehow able to ‘feel’ what was happening. She couldn’t argue that she needed Spike to help defeat Angelus, that wouldn’t go over well.

“I want him,” she said simply, not offering any further explanation. Angelus arched an eyebrow at her.

“You want him?” He growled when Buffy failed to respond. “He’s mine, childe. He belongs to me and always will. Step down,” he ordered, using his sire’s voice on the last command. A slow smirk spread over Buffy’s lips.

“No,” she replied, feeling none of the binding effects Angelus should have had over her.

Angelus’ countenance instantly darkened in the face of her defiance. The fact that she could overcome a command directly issued by her sire only a week after being turned was unheard of. Despite the rage he felt building within him, Angelus couldn’t help the sliver of pride that worked its way in at having produced such a magnificent demon.

He stalked over to her quickly and grasped her around the throat tightly forcing her head to tilt back and lifting her off of the ground.

“I said, stand down, childe. You dare defy me?” Glaring down at him as best she could, she tried to look defiant as she managed to croak out the word ‘no’ again. He growled and tightened his grip at the same moment she swung her fist.

Buffy’s hand contacted with the side of Angelus’ head harshly with a dull thud and brought his demon out as he snapped his head back to look at her sharply with a savage growl, only to be met by her fist once more.

Growling savagely he lowered her slightly and drew his spare arm back and punched her with enough force that had she been human her neck would have snapped.

Breaking his hold she quickly snapped her fist back and aimed for his face. Her punch was blocked with a hand as Angelus brought his knee up harshly to connect with her stomach causing her to double over.

Angelus’ demon was in heaven as he hauled her to her feet again and backhanded her across the face…once….twice…

A fierce growl ripped through the room, stunning its occupants into silence once more as Buffy morphed into game face. She effortlessly broke Angelus’ grip before sending him flying across the room again by the use of a heavily planted foot to his chest.

Like always, the reaction was instantaneous as Spike morphed a split second after Buffy’s own transformation a possessive growl being torn from his lips closely followed by one from Angelus. Buffy quickly whipped around to quickly look at Spike, and felt her stomach drop at the hunger that had suddenly overcome his eyes.

Spike whimpered as Angelus launched himself in Buffy’s direction, catching her by surprise and pinning her to the ground. Angelus’ demon was screaming at him to possess this creature, make her his for eternity. Her demon sung to him, seduced him like a siren and he was helpless to stop his reaction to her.

Buffy’s demon was panicking as Angelus forced her to the ground under his weight. Without thinking, she used all the strength she could muster to throw him off her as she scrambled to her feet. She raced over to Spike and scooped him up off the ground and threw him ungracefully over her shoulder as she ran for the door. She was sure that her heart would have been racing had it still been beating.

Angelus growled savagely and blocked her pathway to the door. Buffy growled back trying to force his demon to submit to hers as Spike’s had done, but Angelus’ demon refused to submit, it wanted to dominate her—possess her—where Spike’s had just wanted her.

Buffy felt a caged panic rapidly rising within her. She was trapped in the room with no accessible way to get them both out. Angelus advanced on her with a predatory look in his eyes.

“Dominate him,” she heard in a demon roughened voice from over her shoulder.

“What?” she asked almost desperately, wanting Spike to explain further.

“Overpower him, drain him into weakness.” Buffy hesitated. Could she do that? “Slayer! You have to do it, now’s not the time to get bloody squeamish.”

Quickly moving to the bed, she dropped Spike onto it as carefully as she could manage. A low possessive growl emerged from his throat as he stared at a slowly progressing Angelus.

Angelus snarled back at him and made to advance upon the vampire. He was stopped by a powerful fist to his face that sent him sprawling backwards. Buffy wasted no time, jumping on him and punching him in rapid succession across the face before finally moving in on his throat. She snarled as she opened her mouth and buried her fangs in his throat.

Angelus let out a howl of pain bucked and hardened beneath her. His sense of survival began to kick in as he growled and snapped savagely at her. His attempt grew weaker and weaker as she continued pulling the blood from his neck.

Angelus’ demon features slipped away as his eyelid fluttered and she finally pulled back.

“Bu…Buffy?” She paused at the whimpered pleading that sounded so much like the Angel she had known, the one she still loved. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth she forced herself to ignore it and she moved to the bed to scoop her vampire up. He wasn’t her Angel any more. And if he was, would she able to forgive him?

She pushed the thoughts from her head as she made her way to the exit, letting her demon features melt back into her human countenance. She had a vampire to take home and attend to.

Angelus didn’t move from his position on the floor until he could sense neither one of them any more, then gradually a slow sardonic smile began to spread across his face as a small weak chuckle burst from his lips. God she was magnificent! Despite his acute lack of blood he felt a distinct throbbing in his lower regions. He hadn’t though he could have wanted her any more than he already did, but now….

“Daddy?” Angelus let his head fall to the side slowly to take in the sight of his other childe as he used his claim over her to beckon her forward.

“Come give daddy some juice.” The vampiress obediently held out her wrist for her sire. Time to up the stakes. Buffy was his and he would make sure Spike knew it.
hapter Ten



Giles’ eyes went wide as his Slayer walked in through the front door with a suspiciously Spike-shaped bundle slung over her shoulder.

“Buffy! What in God’s name…?” He trailed off unexpectedly at her hardened look.

“Giles, we have a problem.” He let out an uncharacteristic snort at that statement.

“You mean bigger than the return of Angelus and the plotting of our untimely deaths?” Buffy’s eyebrows snapped together in confusion. Had Giles just made a funny?

Upon seeing her shocked expression, Giles rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh as he took his glasses off his face and started polishing them rapidly. “Oh, bloody hell! What’s wrong now?”

Buffy shook off the uneasiness at hearing her Watcher make a joke, and turned her focus back to the present. “It’s not just Spike who is affected by my demon, seems Angelus goes all bumpy over me as well.”

“You think you could put me down, Slayer?” Spike’s question went unanswered as Buffy and Giles were swept up in the excitement of this new discovery. He let out a small growl—this was humiliating.

“Good lord! Angelus knows of your current physical status then?” Buffy quirked an eyebrow at that.

“If by physical status you mean ‘he knows I’m not a vampire’? Then yes.” Giles’ eyes went wide as he took in the information, looking more than a little intrigued and excited at the prospect of being able to consult his books and find the answer to the bizarre behaviour of the vampires’ demons in the presence of her own.

“I’d appreciate it if you put me the bloody hell down!” The irritation in Spike’s voice had risen to all new levels as he tried desperately to draw Buffy’s attention back to the fact that he was still slung over her shoulder with his arse in the air.

“And your demon had the same effect that it seemed to have on Spike?” Giles asked her, ignoring the vampire. Buffy nodded.

“Yep, he went all growly and possessive and tried to jump me. On the up side, though, he tried to use his sire voice on me and it didn’t work, so points in the plus column for that.” Giles’ eyebrows drew together and he nodded absently, his mind already wandering over the possibilities.

“Indeed,” he remarked as he replaced his glasses.

“You know what? Fine, just bloody well leave me here. It’s not like I mind having my arse floating about in the Watcher’s face. It is a nice arse after all, even if I do say so myself.” Buffy frowned and turned her head back over her shoulder.

“What the hell are you talking about?”


***


James shivered from his position crouched in a bush outside the Summers’ residence. He was going to kill whoever told him that working for the council would mean the most up-to-date technology and plush hotels. He was positive that whoever they were, they had never spent four hours straight hovering outside a window with little more than a over friendly cat and a pile of possum dung for company.

Almost every light on the first floor of the house was turned on, yet he hadn’t seen a grain of movement aside from the quick entry and exit of a blond headed man earlier that night. The man hadn’t stayed long enough to cause suspicion, and he was obviously welcome in the house from the way he just walked in.

He looked down at the photo he was clutching in his almost blue hands. Buffy Summers, Slayer belonging to the Council of Watchers. He snorted at that, ‘belonging to.’ Those bastards though they bloody well owned everything. Despite all that, however, he hadn’t seen even a glimpse of anyone who might fit that description.

Bringing his hands to his face, he blew the warm air of his breath into them and rubbed them together. California was supposed to be warm. He hated the cold; it was why he had volunteered for the job—to leave England. Now glancing down at the pile of dung to his right, he wondered why he had bothered.

Having come to a decision, James made to get up and leave just as the front door to the home swung open. He stopped dead in his tracks, still halfway between standing and sitting. His thigh muscles quivered with the effort to hold himself still as he waited for the person to exit the home. He was rewarded no more than a few seconds later as a small, blonde, female who looked to be a teenager took of at a jog down the street.

Scrambling around quickly, James made a grab for the photo he had in his pocket—they matched. Whipping out his mobile, he punched in the memorised number and brought the cell phone to his ear.

“She’s just been sighted.” Not waiting for any acknowledgement on the other end, he hung up the phone and replaced it, resigning himself to remain in position for the rest of the night.

As the evening wore on, fatigue eventually overtook James. He fell asleep outside of the Summers’ home and never saw when, a few hours later, the young girl returned with a crippled vampire slung over her shoulder.


***


“He needs blood.” Giles’ eyes rose suspiciously to meet Buffy’s. It was now 7 a.m. and he had spent the remainder of the night up with her, searching through volumes to see if he could find anything more on the effect she seemed to have over vampires, if Spike and Angelus were anything to go by.

“I’m sitting right here you know.” Buffy shot Spike a look before turning back to her Watcher.

“I’m assuming that you’re hinting for me to go get some?” A grin broke out across her face and she fluttered her eyelashes innocently at him “It’s light out. I don’t see why you can’t go get it yourself.”

“Giles! You know what happens when I’m in the sun! How am I meant to explain to the butcher why I look like a firefly?” Giles cringed slightly against the whine in her voice.

“Butcher! You’ve got to be kidding me! I ain’t bloody well drinking that swill.” Both sets of eyes turned on him. “What? You can’t honestly expect me to drink that shit. It will take me months to heal on that stuff.”

“Well what do you propose we do then? We’re not robbing a blood bank,” Giles retorted. Spike’s gaze slid smoothly from the Watcher over to rest on the Slayer. Her eyes instantly widened at the hungry look in his eyes as he eyed her neck.

“Oh, no! I don’t think so, Buster” His eyes slid up to hers; they had a sparkle of mischief in them with which she was beginning to grow familiar.

“Not going to return the favour, love?” Against her will, she felt her knees grow weak as he looked at her through long lashes and curled his tongue up behind his teeth to pull off a look that should be illegal—and probably was in some countries.

“The…favour? I had no control over that!” Buffy only just managed to keep the waver out of her voice. She began to squirm under Spike’s gaze as he kept his eyes pinned on her. “Giles!”

“Just feed him, Buffy!” Her eyes went wide as a huge smirk simultaneously broke out over Spikes face.

“What?” Giles shut his eyes tightly at her rather loud protest. He had gotten no more than a few hours sleep and this was more than he could deal with at that moment. “It’s not like he can kill you, and—dare I say it—Spike’s right, he won’t heal half as quickly on pig’s blood. We need him strong to help fight Angelus. He’s no good to us like this.”

Who was this man and what had he done with her Watcher? Did he even realise what he was telling her to do? He seemed to read her mind as he looked up at her once more.

“Yes, I do know what I am saying. He can’t kill you, so as far as I am concerned it’s perfectly safe.” A deep chuckle resounded throughout the room, which had Buffy’s knees weakening again. Stupid knees.

“You heard the Watcher, pet.” She scowled at Spike, shooting one last helpless look at her Watcher who had returned to looking over his books. Grudgingly she made her way over to Spike.

“He’ll probably make it hurt on purpose,” she muttered, as she moved to take the seat next to him, squeaking loudly when he grabbed her arm and pulled her down into his lap. Spike smirked as she shot another glare at him.

“What was that, pet?” He had heard perfectly well what she had said and he was going to take great pleasure in making sure that it had the complete opposite effect. Turning her around, he arranged her until she was straddling his lap.

“Is this really necessary?” He arched his eyebrow as he looked up at her.

“Easier access.” Buffy swallowed heavily at the not so subtle sexual undertones to that statement. Choosing to ignore it completely, she shifted her hair from the side of her neck where she had been bitten by both the Master and Angelus, and made sure to hold the majority of her weight off of him. Her thighs quivered under the strain, but she refused to give in knowing the minute she settled her weight onto him he would make some lewd remark.

Spike smirked again and pulled the hair back around to cover that side of her neck before uncovering the virgin side of her neck. She arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows at him but said nothing.

Buffy closed her eyes as he leaned in tensing in preparation for the bite. He didn’t bite immediately but instead ghosted his lips over the skin on her neck—barely touching her—caressing her with his lips.

Spike felt her quivering muscles slowly begin to relax as he continued his soft touches and kisses to the skin of her neck until she had rested her full weight on top of him. He resisted the urge to groan at the feel of her pressed up against him and instead swiped his tongue up the length of her neck before nuzzling his face into her as he shifted into game face.

When the bite finally came, Buffy barely felt the pinpricks of his fangs sliding effortlessly into her skin before an overwhelming sense of pleasure like nothing she had felt began to consumer her. Her unnecessary breathing instantly became heavy and ragged as her hands flew to Spike’s biceps to brace herself. He held her there for a moment—his fangs embedded in her skin—before slowly beginning to suck and draw blood from the wound.

Giles looked up from his books as a low, throaty moan resounded throughout the room. His eyes went wide at the sight that greeted him. Spike was doing more than just feeding from Buffy. She was straddling his lap with her head thrown back in ecstasy, and her long hair brushing against Spike’s thighs as she clutched at his upper arms. It was an image of his Slayer he had never wanted to see.

It was the deep moan that did it, though. Clearing his throat, Giles tried to draw their attention back to the present and avert his eyes at the same time. Maybe he should just leave the room. Making his decision quickly, he moved to scoop up his books just as the sound of heavy footfalls could be heard on the stairs and Xander walked back into the room.

“Oh, for the love of—why do I always have to walk in on this stuff?” Xander exclaimed. Throwing his hands up the air, the teen made a hasty retreat, Giles hot on his heels as he too made his way out of the living room.

Chapter Eleven



Joyce heaved a sigh of relief as she awoke. It was Saturday morning and none of her surrogate children had to be at school, Janice was running the gallery, and it was in the a.m. hours which therefore held no threat of vampire attacks.

She had no idea how Buffy had managed for the last two years. A little over a week and she could feel the fatigue pulling at her body from lack of sleep and the stress she held from keeping everything together. Maybe it was time to look into setting up a web server so she could work from home.

As much as her daughter protested about the idea when she had raised it a few nights ago, Joyce was going to have to look into home schooling. Being able to run the gallery from home could have its advantages. Plus it would expand her networks and bring in a pull of new artists.

Joyce rolled over in bed, making a mental check list of things she had to do as she checked the clock on her nightstand: 6:30 a.m. The house was quiet as its occupants slept on. The only one awake at this hour would be her daughter, dutifully keeping watch downstairs while her friends slept.

She knew there was more to it than that though. On her way down to get herself something to drink one night, she had stopped on the stairs to listen to her daughter’s muffled sobs coming from the living room. Joyce was about to go downstairs to console Buffy, but the minute she made a noise on the staircase, the crying had stopped. So, Joyce had let her be and silently made her way back up the stairs without her drink.

Now Buffy had a pet vampire to keep her company, though he had confined himself to the basement most of the time, to keep away from all their human-like behaviour. Joyce chuckled to herself at the thought of Spike; he really was charming in his own way, such a mixture of sensitivity, insecurity and the need to live up to his ‘big bad’ reputation.

She could see the man he held buried beneath his hardened exterior, and she supposed it was the reason he felt the need to lash out at all things human so much. He could still see a bit of William in himself and he didn’t like it. No, that wasn’t right, he didn’t want to like it—he didn’t want to want it to be part of him because it made him ‘weak’ in the eyes of his demon brethren.

Joyce giggled to herself. She was spending way too much time in the company of Giles.


***


Despite her lack of aversion to the sun, Buffy felt the soft hands of sleep calling her as the dawn broke outside. It had become almost like an automatic trigger inside her brain—dawn meant sunlight, sunlight meant no Angelus and no Angelus meant she could drop her guard long enough to get some sleep, even if it was only for an hour or two.

Buffy’s body had been running on adrenaline for the first few days, then on the acute need to know that she was doing everything possible to keep the threat of Angelus away from the ones she loved. As the days wore on and Angelus still hadn’t made a move to attack, she began to feel the effects the lack of sleep was having on her body.

She hadn’t eaten properly in days, neither blood nor the normal human food which her body still held the need for. But even the need to eat took backseat precedence over her body’s need for sleep.

As soon as dawn rolled around her body switched off, almost instantly falling into the deep sleep it craved.

That was how Joyce found her when she made her way down stairs. Joyce had stopped for a moment in the doorway—only slightly perturbed by her daughter’s complete and utter lack of movement, even the soft rise and fall of her chest. The memory of Giles telling that Buffy was virtually indestructible was enough to ease her discontent and her motherly instincts immediately kicked in.

Grabbing the comforter of the back of the couch Giles was sleeping on, Joyce walked over and covered her baby up. Perhaps Willow might be able to help her set up a website later today, she would even pay the redhead a small monthly wage to keep the site running and updated.

Having come to a decision, Joyce made her way into the kitchen to prepare a large breakfast for everyone. While she was in there she heated a mug of blood for her vampire house guest and left it on the top step of the basement stairs for him to collect when he was hungry. They had had a week to panic. Now it was time to pull together. They would accomplish nothing if they weren’t well rested and fed and it was time someone took those matters into hand.


***


‘Run. Don’t stop moving. Just keep going—ignore the pain.’

Her heavy foot falls pounded on the pavement, her breathing and heart beat erratic. Her lungs and legs muscles burned from exhaustion, and each fall of her foot seemed to come heavier than the last.

The long narrow pathway curled its way out before her, around hills and corners so that it was sometimes out of sight.

‘Don’t move off the path—don’t let it catch up to you.’

She rounded the bend and hesitated for a moment as the road split into to separate pathways.

‘Don’t stop moving.’

She gasped for breath and shot a look over her shoulder fleetingly before taking off down the path that curled to the left. The ground shuddered beneath her feet for a moment before becoming calm again. She lowered her head and picked up her pace.

“Excuse me?” Her head shot up at the sound of someone calling her. Her eyes scanned the area and came to rest on a man standing by the edge of the road dressed in a suit, white gloves, and a white mask that covered his eyes. “Miss Summers?”

Against her will her legs stopped running. “Yes?”

“You have to come with me. We’re here to help you.” Buffy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Help me?” The man before her held out his gloved hand.

“Yes, quickly now, come this way!” Warily she grasped the hand and immediately he began to pull her off the path and towards a clump of bushes.

‘Don’t move off the path.’

Panic gripped her and she dug her heels in trying to pull her hand from the man’s. He looked back at her and seemed to sense what had her panicking.

“Don’t worry, where here to help you. You’ll be safe with us, Miss Summers.” Buffy cast a nervous glance over her shoulder as the ground began to tremor gently again.

“No, let me go. I have to keep running!” His iron grip held tight.

“But you’ve been running for so long, aren’t you tired?”

“No!” She yelled as she wrenched her arm out of his and took off for the path at a sprint, even as the ground quaked beneath her. Panting heavily for air she threw herself back onto the winding track heedless of the shouts of ‘Miss Summers’ coming from behind her.

She could see a black clad figure in the distance. He was just standing patiently by the edge of the path, looking down the road towards her. As she got closer she could see it was Spike and he was waving to her as she drew near.

“Slayer—”

“Not now, Spike! We have to run!” She said as she pushed at him to run with her. The tremors in the ground had died down, but every second she stood still would make them closer to coming back.

“I know, kitten.” Buffy’s gaze shot to his.

“You know?” He nodded and took her into his arms. She looked up at him quizzically as he gently held her to him. “Spike, there’s something after me, I have to keep running.”

He smiled softly down at her. “The cake’s already baked. We just don’t know what the flavour is yet.”

“What? You’re not making sense,” she said as she turned her head to look back over her shoulder. She could already feel the light vibrations running up her legs.

“Sometimes you have to look beneath the mask that’s presented.” Her brows furrowed as she looked back up at him.

“Do you mean the men in the white masks? They were trying to help me?” He didn’t answer her. He just took as step back and held out his hand.

Buffy gasped as the image of Spike shifted and he became a man with honey blonde hair who wore glasses and was dressed in a suit. She realised as she stared at him in shock that this was William.

“Watch out!” She yelled as one of the white masked men came up behind him.

“You have to see past the mask, Buffy.” Buffy’s gazed bounced back to William before turning back on the man. She stared hard at him, willing herself to see behind the mask.

Slowly the image dissolved as she was staring a lightly balding older man. Another one walked up behind him, devoid of both mask and gloves. He held a cup of tea in his one hand and a rotting olive branch in the other.

“The council.” William nodded eagerly.

“Are you entirely sure what your meant to be running from?” She looked back at William, whose image seemed to have mixed with Spike’s. As the ground beneath began to quake again she grabbed his hand.

The smile he gave her was blinding and he pulled her into him as the world around them dissolved until she found herself standing next to Spike in a bedroom.

It was beautiful. The bed was covered with white silk sheets and sprinkled with red rose petals. Lamps were scattered about and had been draped with scarves to give the room a soft warm glow, and the French windows rested open so a soft breeze was blowing the sheer curtains into the room.

Buffy turned to him with a smile. “Did you do all this?”

Spike smirked at her. “This? No, that was all William.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, returning her gaze to their setting.

“I’m glad you like it. I wanted to do this properly,” he said as he reached over and took her hand again.

Buffy arched an enquiring eyebrow at him. “Do what exactly?”

“Angelus still holds his claim over me, pet. I need you to break it.” She gave him a confused look.

“But I won the fight. I thought that meant that I had claim over you now.”

Spike smiled at her gently. “No, you still have to bite me. There’s a ritual of sorts.” Buffy’s confused look became one of worry.

“Is it very complex?” Spike chuckled deeply.

“No, kitten, you’ll be just fine. Don’t think, just feel. Once you’ve claimed me everything will stop being affected by your demon and I’ll belong to you.” Spike took her hand again and led her over to the bed. She put up no resistance as he lay her down gently.

“Does Giles have to take notes? I’d prefer it if we were alone.” Spike looked over his shoulder at the Watcher who was seated upright in a chair in the very corner of the room.

“He doesn’t know what’s happening yet. Needs to take notes so he can research.”

“Why can’t we just tell him?”

“’Cause you’re not awake.” His lips lowered until they were hovering an inch away from hers. He trailed a line of kisses and small nips along her jaw line and up to her ear. “Wake up, Buffy,” he whispered softly right before he lunged for her neck.


***


Buffy’s eyes flew open as her hand instantly flew to her neck where Spike had bitten her just as she had woken. She had just had a dream—a prophetic dream—and the last time she had dreamt like that she had been killed by the Master.

Her mind instantly wandered back over the messages contained within the dream. There were men in white masks, pretending to help her, but really leading her off the right path. The council was going to have some part in all this mess, and she couldn’t trust them.

“Ow!” Buffy frowned and looked over the edge of the couch to find Cordelia splayed out on the floor, her hand clutching her forehead.

“Cordy? What are you doing on the floor?” The brunette shot her a withering glare.

“Oh don’t play cute with me, ‘what are you doing on the floor?’” Cordy mocked in a put on voice as she got herself up. “See if I ever try and wake you up again. I am, like, so going to have the biggest bruise on my forehead now, because I’m-Miss-Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer decides to head butt the person who is nice enough to try and wake her up!” Buffy frowned as Cordy walked out of the room still complaining loudly.

Giles. She needed to find her Watcher. And a vampire—if the dream was anything to go by she had to claim him fast, before Angelus recovered and tried to use its pull against them.

Chapter 12



Buffy stood at the top of the stairs which led to the basement and took a deep breath. She knew that the vampire within was asleep because he had yet to acknowledge her presence, so she took the time she had to prepare herself for what she was about to do.

There was a small pit of doubt within her that was screaming to run away and fast—that she was crazy to bind herself to Spike. Bits and pieces of the argument she just had with her Watcher playing on repeat in her head.


“Buffy, I can understand your distress, but this is completely mad! You’ll be bound to him forever! Forever! Do you understand how long that is? A life time will come and go and we will all pass on, but you will still be alive and you will still be bound to him!”

“Angelus’ claim has to be broken. He knows that Spike is working with us. It a weakness we can’t afford.”

“Do you even realise what a claim entails? Have you even thought about the ramifications that may be involved? How do we know that once you have claimed him HE won’t try and use it to control YOU?”

“That’s why I need your help. Please, Giles.”


Her argument had been convincing, yet she couldn’t remember a word of it now that the time had come to act upon her well-researched plan.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll hold the power in the claim. If anything, it will reinforce his loyalty in this mess. You can do it,” Buffy whispered to herself quietly as she lowered her weight onto the first step of the staircase. It squeaked loudly and she froze in place, her wide eyes darting to the bed to see if Spike had woken. “He’s still asleep. You can do this.”

She kept repeating the mantra over and over in her head as she descended the rest of the staircase silently and made her way towards the bed.


***


Dru whimpered and moaned as her ‘daddy’ ploughed roughly into her from behind. Usually she enjoyed it when he was rough with her. Usually she enjoyed it when he did anything to her, as long as he was paying her attention—letting her know he cared, even a little bit.

But tonight something in the air was wrong. Something was brewing, and try as she might she couldn’t expel it from the extremities of her mind. She knew it was beginning to irritate her Angel that she wasn’t screaming and sobbing like she normally did, but for once her broken mind couldn’t—wouldn’t—focus on her daddy.

Dru could hear her dollies whispering together from across the room, conspiring together and leaving her out. They were still upset with her and every time she tried to listen to what they were saying they fell silent and refused to talk again until she had moved away.

She let out a deep moan of pleasured pain as Angelus gripped her hair harshly and pulled her head back baring her throat to him. His thrust became harder as his fangs ripped into her neck, not drinking, nor claiming, merely puncturing for the joy that her pain brought him.

Angelus let the wound weep as he pulled back again and watched the rivulets of blood stream down the back of her neck, past her shoulder blades and into the slight indentation made by her spine as it continued down to pool in the small of her back before his powerful thrusts scattered the liquid making it stream down around her sides and drip onto the bed.

Dru whimpered and tried to find pleasure in the act but she couldn’t. Something was about to go terribly wrong, and try as she might she couldn’t switch her mind off.


***


Spike awoke as Buffy neared the bed. Opening one eye he watched her quizzically, trying to discern why she practically had a flashing neon sign posted above her head reading ‘nervous’.

“You alright, pet?” Buffy shuddered at his voice which was still husky from sleep. Licking her lips nervously, she walked towards him and helped him into a sitting position on the miniature cot, so that his back was resting against the wall.

He arched a scarred eyebrow at her as she moved so that she was straddling his legs. He went along with it as she placed one hand on his shoulder and the other at the nape of his neck.

“Feeling a bit peckish, Slayer?” Buffy ignored his question, positive that if she opened her mouth to speak her voice would come out wavering. Instead she focused her attention on finding Angelus’ mark on Spike’s neck.

Spike frowned as he felt her sniffing softly at his neck. What exactly was she doing? An involuntary growl was torn from his lips as she found and swiped her tongue over his grandsire’s mark of domination. She was going to claim him.

Knowing that the bite would be painful and less effective if he didn’t submit, he tilted his head in supplication. Buffy brought her demon to the fore, instantly demanding the presence of Spike’s demon which emerged without a fight.

“Do you know what your doing, pet?” Spike asked as he brought his hands to rest on her hips.

“I think so,” she whispered back nervously.

“You think so?” He asked as his eyebrows shot up.

“I had Giles research it with me,” she said in a soft voice which was muffled against his neck.

“Bloody hell!” Spike let his head fall back against the wall. That would have gone over well with the Watcher. Spending what was left of the afternoon researching books on vampire claims with his Slayer, so that said Slayer could claim William the Bloody thereafter. “Are you sure you read up on the right one? There’s more than one type of claim, you know.”

“Domination?” She asked in the same small voice. “Is that the one I want?” Spike didn’t answer her verbally, but she felt the nod of his head.

God, the last thing he wanted was to be branded with a bite of domination—less so with the slayer as its owner. But he knew that it was the only way to break Angelus’ claim over him. It was either that or mate with the chit. Mating claims made void all other claims over a vampire, but with that there really was no going back, and he wasn’t sure that forever was what he was looking for with the Slayer. At least in those terms—after the domination was completed he would be linked to her forever anyway.

“Bite deep, love. Got to make sure it will scar.” He was surprised when she didn’t go for the bite right away. Instead she employed the tactic he had used on her the night before. Ghosting kisses up and down the column of his neck before her tongue flicked out to swipe at the mark.

His eyes fell closed and his head fell back against the wall as she ground her hips down into his. She had read that bites of domination were often painful, and while vampires usually enjoyed pain, most often employed some method of distraction to keep their mind off of it. So she was going with the only way she knew how—the same way he had distracted her from his bite.

Spike’s grip on Buffy’s hips grew tighter as he helped her control her movements until she had settled into some sort of pattern. His jaw was clenched and his nostrils were flared as he breathed in the heady scent of her arousal as it began to fill the air surrounding them. He groaned at her whisper soft pants and whimpers in his ear; they were making him harder by the second and he could feel the bite of his zipper against the head of his shaft.

He felt her tongue find Angelus’ mark on his neck again and tensed slightly just as she drove her Slayer fangs into his neck. He let out a hoarse cry and bucked his hips up into hers as she ground hers down to keep him from throwing her off of him and the bed. Spike released a sound that seemed stuck between a whimper of pain and pleasure as Buffy kept up her stimulation of the growing bulge in his pants.

Buffy could feel his hand sliding up her back and holding her head in to his neck as he encouraged her to bite deeper. She groaned loudly as his bloody flowed freely down her throat in rivers, before finally shaking her head to tear the holes slightly. She then pulled back from him and swiped her tongue over her mark to close the wounds.

“Blood consumed and being marked, you are mine to have and to own.”


***


Drusilla let out a wail as the familial claim over Spike was ripped from her being and his presence completely lost to her in a void of darkness. She used all her strength to throw her sire off her before she stumbled from the bed to collapse on the floor.

“William! My William!” She sobbed and tore at her hair trying to find some way through her frantic panic to bring the connection back. It had been there for what seemed like forever, her safety net to go to whenever her daddy wasn’t around. Now there was nothing but an empty darkness where her prince had once been.

Her head shot up so that she was staring at the doll on the mantle piece as a cackling laughter reached her ears. “You! You did this! You and that nasty sunshine! Bring him back!” She screamed at the doll, “BRING HIM BACK!”

Her ear piercing screech reverberated throughout the room for a few seconds, then everything fell silent and not even the pixies would speak to her.

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