Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all the characters contained within. I hold no claim on them.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set during Buffy versus Dracula and then goes seriously AU after that! Buffy is missing and Spike is the only one who has noticed. Where is Buffy and why is Spike the only one who is worried? Will the peroxide vampire be able to find her before it's too late? What has happened to the Scoobies and will they save Xander before he really becomes Dracula's butt monkey?

Chapter 29

Anya flicked through the "The Modern Wicca", a new magazine which she was considering placing on order for the shop. It was filled with mind numbingly boring articles about how to pickle your own mandrake roots and ‘do-it-yourself’ de-eyeballing of rats. She wasn't too sure if she wanted her customers cutting out her goods and going straight to the source for their eyeballs.

She looked over at Tara and shook her head. As if they would! Somehow she couldn't see the blonde girl scooping out ratty eyes. She filled in the order form and added it to the pile of paperwork for Giles to approve.

There was a comfortable silence in the Magic Box, the two human occupants both busy with their own thing. Both oblivious of the vampire curled up in the forbidden section.

Tara was catching up on her college work and Anya was busy with re-ordering. They were both waiting for Giles to return with breakfast and then they could go over the events of the previous night. Tara was still in shock that Anya had managed to dust a Bride and save Spike and Giles from both a beating and being chomped on.

"Is she here?" Spike’s agitated demand made the two women jump.

Tara tucked a strand of her hair behind an ear and looked over at the agitated vampire that had just entered from the basement. She shook her head quickly in response to his barked question, unused to him being so prickly with her. Spike ignored her and carried on muttering under his breath while pacing back and forth. Her eyes were glued to the still healing bite marks on his neck. She suppressed a tiny shiver; it was scary to consider that those marks were Buffy's.

"What did you do?" Anya looked assesingly at Spike. "You were an idiot male, weren't you?" She had a honed instinct when it came to males and their foolishness. Her eyes locked on the bite marks that adorned his neck and her eyebrows shot up towards her hairline.

The other vampire in the shop shifted slightly, and listened intently to the conversation below.

Spike stalled in his tracks and gawped at the ex-demon. "How the bloody hell did you...?"

He trailed off at the sight of the two women walking towards him, compassion colouring Tara's soft features. But what was making him worry was the look of pure vengeance in Anya's eyes. He thanked his somewhat insane maker that demon girl was without her powers. He did take a cautious sniff to double check she was still human. He fidgeted uncomfortably at the gleam in Anya's eyes.

"Spike, did you do something which I will have to call on Hally to sort out?" Anya demanded crossly. She was starting to worry about Buffy. Whatever Spike had done it must be bad if he was here, and admitting to searching for his childe. Those bite marks where fresh and if he was running around like a headless Chickdark demon then something was wrong.

Anya realised that for him to admit to anyone that he had lost track of Buffy was something she had never envisaged the Aurelian Master vampire doing. It made him vulnerable to attack from her friends; the very friends who Spike knew where watching his every move like a hawk. The state he was in also was making her wonder just what he had done to her friend. Anya's strong protective gene kicked up a notch and she gave him a furious glare.

"Who's Hally?" Tara interrupted the angry stares with her question.

"A vengeance demon, a very old friend - in fact I was the one who got her into the business. Her main speciality is children but she's very good at inflicting pustulating boils to the scrotum. She gets them in just the right place that the man thinks if the boil bursts then something else might." Anya stared pointedly at Spike's groin.

"I say, that's really quite putrid." Giles's voice came from behind Spike, causing the vampire to spin around with a yelp. "Now Anya, here is your triple expresso and bearclaw; maybe they might cheer you up."

"Ohh delicious. And no, Giles. I am not cheering up because of your food bribery. He," Anya gestured with her pastry at Spike, showering him with flakey pastry crumbs, "has lost Buffy, and if he is coming here to find her and by doing so, letting us know that he is in the canine house, then he deserves a plague of boils on his scrotum." She eyed Spike. "Do you deserve it?" A perfectly manicured fingernail tapped him on the chest.

“I bloody do not, you silly chit ,” Spike muttered as he took a tiny step back and raised his hands defensively.

Anya arched a finely plucked brow at the vampire she was stalking towards. “Oh really?”

Spike's Adam's apple moved abruptly as he gulped at her. 'She was one scary bint!' He ground his teeth together, the movement causing his high cheekbones to stand even more in relief. Spike was aching to blurt out everything, to explain Buffy’s claiming attempt and the reasons behind his refusal but he was channelling William’s gentlemanly ways to the extreme. But he was damned if he was going to be the one taking all the blame. “Might want to talk the fang happy Slayer,” he muttered softly in his defence, none of the humans caught his heartfelt words as he flopped down onto an empty chair.

"Anya, please stop talking about Spike's balls. I haven't had enough tea to cope with that conversation yet," Giles admonished as he handed Tara her Green Chai. The Watcher stared at Spike and was about to cross- examine him about why Anya was threatening the vampire and also to demand were Buffy was, when Spike interrupted him.

"Yeah, let’s leave the boys out of this." Spike pulled his duster tight around his body, and immediately regretted it. The scent of Buffy was all over the thing from last night and it made his body ache.

He'd woken this morning after barely two hours sleep to find the bed and the apartment empty. His girl had scarpered but he could sense through their familial bond that she was nearby and hurting. Spike mentally slapped himself for not explaining his actions over her attempt to initiate a claim. He had tried to before they had fallen asleep, but his childe's distress had overwhelmed him and all he had been able to do was hold her as close as she'd let him, attempt to coddle and soothe her. Or so he had thought. When he had woken to the empty bed, panic had filled him. He had failed her again and his Slayer had gone.

Yes, he wanted to claim her. But no, he didn't think the reasons behind her trying it were good enough for a strong claim. To appease a sire was all well and good, and a bit of blood play while they shagged was also fine. But to try and claim him in the hopes of 'fixing' their fight over his secrecy about Mum was not the way to go.

Spike slumped on the metal ladder leading up to the forbidden section and rubbed his hands over his face. He had buggered up trying to explain it to Buffy and probably deserved Anya setting her old mate on him. And a very small part of him also wondered, worried over the suddenness of her approach. He was very worried that his Slayer had tried to claim him because of her fear of Dracula. Something he hadn't dared to voice. He wanted her to claim him for love and nothing more. Spike’s head was starting to ache from all the William-like thoughts, but for once he was in accord with his former self.

There was a faint rustle of paper that caught his attention. It was coming from the gallery above him and then there was a tiny sniffle. Which was all he needed to hear. She was safe-- weepy but safe. His face split with a relieved smile and all the tension left his body.

Giles took a gulp of his Earl Grey. "Right now, what is wrong?" He directed his question at the blond vampire who was grinning like a demented loon at him and the girls. "I say Spike, are you quite alright?" The Watcher had been wondering if he was going to have to stake the idiot in front of him for whatever he had done to Buffy. Giles's mind veered away from the possibilities of what else his charge had been 'up to' with her Sire. Instead, he focused on the here and now and the smiling prat.

Spike nodded and winked at Tara and Anya, pointing above him. Realisation dawned on the two women's faces.

"What happened to your face? It's quite bruised." Giles changed the subject as he picked the raisons out of his pastry with a grimace. Every time he ordered one without, they gave him one with raisons - he was starting to wonder if it was a conspiracy to poison him. He looked up at Spike and briefly wondered why he was pointing at the ceiling. He had started to wonder if Spike had lost all his marbles; he'd been acting odd in some form or other ever since he had saved Buffy.

"Drac. Tried to have a go at Buffy and yours truly got in the way." Spike for once was reticent to elaborate. Which earned him an arch look from the Watcher sitting opposite him. Spike heard a small snort from above him, and another rustle of paper. He was starting to wonder what exactly she was reading.

Buffy didn't even have to strain to hear the conversation below her on the shop floor. Her vampiric hearing picked up everything, even Anya's boil threat, and eww!!

She had managed to beat everyone in today, and had holed herself up in the forbidden reading section since before sunrise. Reading everything she could find on vampire claiming rituals. And oh boy, were there loads of essays and books on the subject. The Watchers seemed to be fascinated by it. She was still trying to make sense of why Spike rejected her attempt at claiming him. At first she’d wondered if maybe she'd done it wrong? Was there a ritual or some words that had to be said? But as the confused vampire had carried on her research, Buffy realised that she hadn't done anything wrong. 'He just didn't want her.'

"I'm sorry, did you say Dracula attacked Buffy?" Giles's sharp tones pulled Buffy from her maudlin thoughts.

"Yeah, but I managed to get in there before he could hurt her. Even gotta souvenir from him." Spike tossed the fang onto the table.

Tara poked at it with a cautious finger. "That's his fang?

Spike rocked back on his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. "Yup, kicked it out of his head myself."

"Good Lord, that is revolting," Giles gasped. He didn't even want to ask why Spike would take such a disgusting trophy.

Anya picked the small incisor up and stared at it thoughtfully. "This could be useful." She looked over at Spike. "Can I keep it?"

Spike eyed his prize for a moment and nodded his assent. He laid his index finger along the side of his nose and winked at the perky woman. "Great minds, right?"

She nodded in agreement. "Good." Anya tucked the tooth away in her pocket. Tara frowned at the two of them. She’d a creeping suspicion as to what they were planning and it jarred her Wiccan beliefs. But, she held her tongue.

"Something we need to talk out a bit, Watcher." Spike stretched his back and sighed happily as it clicked and cracked loudly.

Buffy's curiosity was peaked. She quietly shut the leather bound book she had been reading and shuffled forward on her butt to have a peek.

"Demon girl is moving in with me and Buffy." Spike’s quietly uttered statement was met with a volley of what's, why's and when's.

Buffy's fingernails dug into her palms, drawing blood. 'He's inviting Anya to stay to act as a chaperone?' was all she could think, her insecurities and self-doubt colouring her every thought. Spike's rejection had cut her deeply-- not just on a vampiric level, but it also played on her human insecurities that were deeply rooted in her Dad and Angel's rejection of her love. She wanted him all to herself and that was why she had tried to claim him, to show him she loved him, nothing more and nothing less. And now he was moving Anya in? Buffy was too caught up in her self-pitying that she had lost sight of the real picture and the threats Dracula had made towards Anya.

He Ignored all the questions being thrown at him. "You alright, love?" Spike called up to Buffy. He'd scented her blood and his eyes flashed amber. His body wound tight, ready to spring into action, but something held him in place. He turned his head to stare up at the forbidden section, his entire body leaning towards her, but at the same time still. Spike knew he was in the doghouse with her but had no idea what to do to repair the damage he had inflicted on her because of the aborted claim.

With a huff, Buffy stood and stomped down the metal stairs. "Fine. Why would you be worried?" she asked in a pointed tone and flopped down next to Tara, all the while glaring at Spike.

"Why am I moving into your place? Please don’t get me wrong, it is a very nice home, but I like my bed not yours…I tried it out and it is too soft. This isn't some sort of kinky threesome thing, is it? I haven't had one of those since 1916, and I have to say, Alphonse Capone was really quite innovative and his first lieutenant was very good at pleasuring us both orally." Anya's glaze flicked back and forth between the two blond vampires.

"Al Capone? Really?" Giles turned in surprise to his shop manager. He sometimes forgot about the history which she had witnessed and created. "What was he like?" The words shot out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Giles mentally slapped himself as he knew that the literal girl would misinterpret his question. He glanced over at Spike and exchanged a resigned smile with the now smirking vampire.

"Well, he was surprisingly well endowed. His penis was nicely shaped and had a very stimulating curve to it. But I just realised that wasn't what you were asking. Yes Rupert, I met Al Capone, he was a very charming man for a homicidal criminal." Anya folded her hands primly on her lap. She leant over to Tara and whispered very loudly, "I'll tell you all about his penis later."

"Oh, thanks." Tara looked nervous at the details she would no doubt be getting later about the gangster.
Buffy shot a sympathetic glance the wiccan's way. 'I soooo didn't want to be there for that pillow talk, but if Spike gets his way, then I guess I will.'

*********

"Why did you wish for my presence?" Dracula leant against the wall, attempting to appear nonchalant but in reality trying to ensure he didn't collapse in a shivering heap on the floor. He had never thought that Spike would be strong enough to take him on and bloody him up so severely. But the Aurelian Whelp had, and for that alone he had to die. Dracula was acutely aware that he couldn't let anyone find out that he had been bested in a fight.

"What happened last night?" Glory paced back and forth, stopping only to slap at one of her fawning minions occasionally. "That vampire was here-- the one with the funny coloured hair-- and you didn't tear his heart out? Instead you let one of your whores dust?"

She continued screaming at the incensed Master vampire, not caring in the slightest that she had insulted him. He had already vowed revenge on Anyanka for her destroying his beloved childe; he had some ideas as to how to make her hurt. It was useful to know she was now mortal, and easy to break. He just needed to get his hands on the ex-vengeance demoness and then he and Maruska would paint her body with her own blood and then hand her over to Glory.

"I want my Key found immediately. We have wasted enough time and I really am getting tired of being here." Glory paused in front of her brown robed minions. "Get out there and start watching the Slayer and her merry band of misfits. I mean, really. Whoever heard of a Slayer having friends? That is just not normal!" Glory shuddered.

"I will do my best to observe her as well," Dracula offered quietly.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you've been observing and it disgusts me…sweating bodies linking together and acting even more bestial that usual." Glory's small mouth was pursed in a moue of disgust. "Face it, she was never yours to start with and will never be."

Glory eyed her minions angrily. "Why are you all still here?" There was a mad scramble to the door.

"Remember, look for anything unusual in her life: new friends or changes in her home...maybe a new pet?" Glory shouted after them. "Or car...who the hell knows what my Key looks like. That sneaky Slayer took my monk from me before I could find out...maybe it's a pair of shoes?"

Dracula managed not to laugh at the now rambling blonde as her mind slowly deteriorated in front of him. He sighed, knowing that it was his responsibility to find her a meal. But then he paused and stared hard at the now drooling mess that was rocking back and forth on his flagstone floor, tearing out her frizzy hair. There were none of her followers around and he really couldn't care less if she was suffering. Dracula called for a minion to help him walk back to his room.

He left Glory where she fell on the floor, a sweating and drooling mess.

*********

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Anya sat down on the left of Spike, hemming him in between her and Tara. Her long fingers tapped the side of her neck pointedly. She had noticed the tension and the looks being exchanged between the two blond vampires and her interest was piqued even more. There was a story begging to be told here and she was going to be the one to pry it out of the unusually tight-lipped Spike who was pouting down at his hands and then staring longingly at the firmly closed door.

Spike stared at the irritating barrier of the training room, his mind racing, wondering what Buffy was telling her 'dad' and how long it would be before the fragile détente he and Giles had established would be shattered. As much as he crowed to the world about being the lone wolf and the Big Bad he had started to enjoy the curious friendship that was slowly evolving between himself and his fellow countryman. He had hoped that it would grow into something more, but if his pain in the arse childe started with the crocodile tears, he was buggered.

"Spike?" Anya poked him in the ribs hard to get his attention. "Are you brooding?"

Spike did a double-take and flecks of citrine shot through his blue eyes. "I do not brood!" he huffed.

Tara giggled at the affronted look on his face.

Spike sighed. His entire body appeared to collapse in on itself. His forehead hit the table with a resounding thunk and a loud groan erupted from his lips. "I'm a heartless bastard who deserves to be staked out to meet the sunrise."

Tara hesitantly placed a comforting hand on his hunched back. "I...I'm sure you don't deserve to be k...illed?"

Spike turned his head and rested his check on the table and stared up at the compassionate girl. "I do."

"Enough with your cryptic remarks, just tell us!" Anya smacked him gently on the back of the head. "If I have to move in with you two for my own safety then I don't want to have to listen to this all the time!"

Spike sat up and eyed the two women curiously, 'since when had he acquired two confidants?'

"And before you say anything, yes, we are your friends and yes we do care about you," Tara interjected.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Spike asked in surprise

"Women's intuition," Anya explained dismissively. "Now tell us what you did and then we can try and fix it." Her dark eyes glittered with the anticipation of finally discovering what had happened.

Both of the vampires were hiding something. The fight with Dracula had been discussed, analysed and of course meticulously recorded by Giles. But there was something more to it all-- the furtive way Spike's eyes slid away from Buffy's imploring looks. Both of their body language’s screamed discontent and unhappiness. It made her teeth ache and she wanted it to stop before she moved into their place.

*********

"Giles, I don't think he loves me." Buffy's whispered confession broke the silence in the training room. She swung at the punching bag half-heartedly and turned tear-filled hazel eyes towards her uncomfortable watcher, hoping he could fix everything.

Giles pulled off his glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket; he definitely didn't want to be able to see her face during this conversation, coward that he was. Like all males of any species-- human or demonic-- Giles wasn't equipped to handle the tears of a woman he cared about, especially Buffy's.
He sat down on the small couch and sighed. He glanced briefly at the door, wondering if he could make a break for it. "Buffy dear, that is really rather a preposterous statement."

Buffy whirled to face her beleaguered Watcher, ready to launch into a volley of defensive words. Her eyes filled with reproach at his statement, her lower lip wobbling ominously.

Giles winced and braced himself for hurricane Buffy and waited...and waited. He opened his eyes and was witness to the silently weeping Slayer. "Oh my dear...what on earth happened?"

"He...he...du...doesn't l...lu…love me!" Buffy’s chin shook and then she threw herself at her pole-axed Watcher. She half fell onto the couch and half onto him and indulged herself in a good cry.

" There...there, Buffy, now none of this!" Giles exclaimed as he hesitantly patted her on the back. He was silently wishing Joyce were here to tend to her daughter. He had no idea what to do or say. His extensive Watcher's training had never covered situations like this.

Buffy wiped her face on Giles's shoulder; the bristle of the tweed on her face was soothing in a way she had never expected. The scents of ink, dust and tea that she inhaled comforted her, calming the despair within her. The three predominant scents would always offer her a feeling of security; they were intrinsically interconnected with Giles in her sense memory.

*********

"So she tried to claim you and you rejected her?" Anya's thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But I would have thought that was the culmination of all your wet dreams?"

"Anya!" Tara flushed bright red at those final words. The flustered Wiccan was already discomfited by the revelation that Buffy had tried to claim Spike. She was sure that the newly turned Slayer wouldn't want Spike to be so frank about their bedroom activities. Her stomach roiled with her internalised distress towards the direction in which their conversation had taken. Also, she felt that she wasn't informed enough to be able to contribute to the discussion, whereas Anya was-- she had a thousand years of experience.

"She's crying again." Spike sighed and covered his face. "I feel like such a bastard, curse me now."

Tara looked over at the door, "I...I…don't think Giles can cope with Buffy crying." She stood, and looked down at Spike's huddled shoulders, feeling torn between the two of them. She laid a gentle hand on the back of Spike’s head and was surprised at the softness of his hair. She had expected it to be dried out from all the bleaching and hair products he slathered on it. “Can I just say one thing?”
Spike nodded and sighed.

“I...I may not be the foremost expert on the Bitey thing, but it sounds to me like she tried to c…claim you without asking and that’s wrong?”

Spike’s shouldered tensed and then relaxed. “S’what I was thinking…”

“Have you tried to explain this to her?” Tara whispered.

Spike shrugged, “Tried too…”

“And?” Anya interrupted.

Spike sat up and gestured to the training room. “Behold my success,” he explained wryly.

“Hmmm…” Anya tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail to her lips. “You need to try harder. Why are men so bad at talking? I really believe if they tried harder there would be less demand for Vengeance demons.”
Tara giggled and Spike sat up. Tara’s hand slid off his head and landed on his shoulder, she squeezed it firmly, offering silent support to the distraught vampire.

“Can’t see that happening though. Men are too silly for words. There will always be a demand for Hoffy’s form of vengeance.” Anya folded her arms and eyed Spike closely. “What stopped you returning her claim?”

“Well, we were having a nice bath and there was some…well…”Spike glanced almost shyly at Tara, embarrassed about discussing anything intimate with the motherly girl.

“Naughty touching?” Tara surprised them both with a wicked smile.

“Well, yeah…” Spike answered, flustered beyond all belief. Tara was too pure in his mind to even consider naughty touching.

“Really, Spike! You think Willow and I don’t do stuff?”

Spike resisted the impulse to slap his hands over his ears and chant lalalalalala. It was as if Joan of Arc had announced she liked a good snog after a fight.

“So she bit you?” Anya deftly changed the subject, barely concealed mirth in light her brown eyes as she glanced over at Spike’s face and the rabbit in headlights look he had on it at the moment.

Tara blinked and then her eyes unwillingly shot to the bite mark on Spike’s pale neck. Her mind filled with images of Buffy and her fangs embedded in his throat and she flushed a bright red. She flinched internally; there was some things best left to the demonic experts.

Before Spike had a chance to retort, a sniffle from the direction of the training room reached his ears and distracted him.

"Go to her please, Glinda," he muttered softly. He wanted his girl to be looked after and Glinda was the one to do this, not the befuddle nit that was in there with his Slayer. Also, the wiccan looked like she needed a break from the bloodtalk.

Anya waited until Tara had made a graceful retreat. "I think you shocked our not so innocent lesbian witch with your bloodshed talk." She crossed her arms and waited for Spike to look up at her. "So why didn't you bite her back and save yourself and all of us all this angst?"

"Your sympathy is utterly underwhelming, pet." Spike stood and began to pace, running his fingers through his hair. "I stopped her attempt because she was doing it for the wrong reasons. Not for love."

"Are you sure that's the only reason?"

Spike looked over his shoulder at Anya who was leaning forward and staring at him intently. "Wot you getting at?"

"Were you also being a Victorian male and feeling insecure because she initiated the claim and not you?" Anya watched as Spike's face contorted with guilt.

*********

"Mr Giles?" Tara slipped into the room and clicked the door shut behind her.

Giles gestured to the newcomer, relief flooding his entire being. She would be able to cope with the tears. He also needed a drink, and bugger the time, his Slayer wanted to claim one quarter of the infamous Scourge of Europe. As much as the sod was growing on him, there were limits!

Tara sat down next to the sodden bundle of Slayer who was clutching Giles’s waist. She gently pulled Buffy off her startled and extremely uncomfortable Watcher and into her own arms. She rocked back and forth calming Buffy with her softly spoken words.

“Thank you, dear girl…” Giles stood and then leaned down and cautiously patted Buffy on the shoulder, before he beat a hasty retreat to find that bottle of scotch he reserved for Buffy meltdowns.

*********

Spike hesitated at the door. He was about to enter the lion’s den and he was positive that he wouldn’t escape unscathed. He was armed with Anya’s advice; she had been sympathetic towards him once the entire sorry tale had been told. She had understood his reasoning for the aborted claim. The frank woman had even added that Buffy’s previous emotional entanglements also explained her attempt at initiating the claim. She had been quite firm in her advice – be gentle but firm and state your case. So here he stood, ready to explain himself yet again to his girl.

Tara and Anya had left a few moments ago to collect some clothes for his new flatmate. There were reproachful looks cast on him from all three mortals. From the two women the looks were more of a ‘hurry up and go and talk to her’ reproach. With Giles it was a ‘sort this out soon as I don’t want a liver replacement operation because of her’ look. The vampire had waited patiently for his girl to leave her inner sanctum, but to no avail. So he had to beard the lioness in her den.

Spike nudged the door open with his boot and peered into the training room. ‘Time for the mountain to go to Mohammed.’

The only sign she was aware of his presence was the straightening of her spine. Buffy kept her back to Spike and continued to fiddle with the slim bladed throwing knife. She flipped it over and over, each time catching its handle. She cradled it in one hand and studied the blade carefully.

Anything to keep her from looking at Spike.

She still couldn’t face him, not after what he’d done to her. He had broken her heart more deftly than either Angel or her dad had done.

“Love?” Spike took a hesitant step into the quiet room.

Buffy’s shoulders hunched at the softly uttered endearment. One she seriously doubted he meant. A small part of her was also now making with the guilts, telling her she had overreacted and was punishing Spike for something she had done.

Spike sighed and looked over his shoulder at Giles, who was busy pretending not to eavesdrop while at the same time rolling a stake on the counter and sipping from a decidedly dodgy smelling cup of tea. It was a silent but obvious message -- he nodded and took another step into the room.

“Buffy, can I explain?” Spike hated the wheedling tone to his voice. 'The things that loving this woman does to me.’ He reached a shaking hand out towards her. “Bout the Claim, pet…”

Buffy chewed her lower lip, aware of every move he made. Her entire being craved his touch, but her pride stopped her. She was tired, confused and scared. All she wanted was too see her Mom and curl up with her and let her make everything better.

Spike growled quietly, frustrated at her silence, and then decided to toss the cat in amongst the pigeons and see what happened. “Thing is, love… the Claim, you did it for the wrong reasons.” Spike braced himself for an impassioned rebuttal from the rigid girl in front of him. “I love you and do want you… as mine for all time…but not…not…not because you were feeling a bit wobbly and wanted to hide. I want all of you, every little bit of you, even the not so perfect bits…BUT I want the claim to do done out of love!” He waited for something, a sign that his impassioned words had made an impact on her.

But he was greeted with silence.

Buffy’s shoulders hunched even more, there it was. The teeny tiny part of her that had been smacking her upside the head was right. She was wrong and now it was a mess. Buffy had no idea what to do. So she kept quiet.

Spike thrust his thumbs into his waistband and rocked on his heels. The silence was getting to the verbose vampire. “Please, Childe?”

He tried to suppress the quiver of disappointment at her lack of interaction with him, but failed. He had laid out everything and she had not responded. A tendril of doubt coiled its self around his fragile psyche and gave it a squeeze.

“You didn’t ask me, Slayer. You just sunk your fangs into me and tried to do something for the wrong reasons. Something that is so precious, so intimate between two vampires - who love each other. It’s something so fragile and which needs to be done the right way. But no, you jump me in the tub and try to claim me because you felt needy. I want the two of us to claim each other out of love and not necessity… Christ luv, even when I asked you to marry me under Red’s spell, I asked, didn’t go all Neanderthal on you and club you over the head and drag you off to my cave. I didn’t just foist it on you without discussing it first.”

Buffy winced at the desperation that leeched into his rough voice. She shook her hand; the blade of the knife had cut her index finger. Holding her hand up she watched mesmerised as blood welled up and ran down the back of her hand. She tried to ignore his passionate words but failed, she started to feel even worse. Slowly Buffy began to realise what she had tried to do last night had been wrong and she had hurt Spike.

Spike’s nostrils flared and he rushed towards her filled with panic. The scent of her blood flooded the room and made his mind whirl. He reached for her stiff shoulders and turned her to face him. His pale hand grasped her injured one and Spike examined it closely. “Are you okay?”

Buffy firmed her lips and pulled her hand free, stopping his panicked inspection. She couldn’t bring herself to even look into his eyes let alone talk to him. The guilt was filling her.

Spike caught hold of her shoulder with his now free hand and prevented her from pulling away from him. Fear and the pain of his childe’s physical rejection of him was filling him with a curious burning sensation. She hadn’t spoken a word to him since her failed claim, and he hated it. The panic roiled in his stomach and a chill ran down his spine. Their link was strong but he was beginning to worry that he had damaged it and more importantly, her. Maybe he should’ve kept quiet, but it was too late, he’d done it now.

Buffy’s hands hung limply at her sides, her entire being rejecting his attempt at contact. Blood dripped on the polished wood, staining it indelibly. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on her feet.

“I…I…can’t do this…” With that she vanished. Spike stumbled forward, his hands clutching at air. Buffy had used her disappearing trick on him and she was gone.

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