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 36 

They returned to utter chaos.  

The entire hotel was in uproar over Angel's lapse and his unfortunate choice of Darla bouncing to assuage his jealousy over Spike and Buffy.  

The reception was filled with angry voices, already pitched high and slowly getting louder as accusations and recriminations were flung at him. The highest pitched being Cordelia, with a wounded look on her face as she demanded that Angel be chained up in the basement for the night and the next day. Just to be safe from Angelus.  She added sardonically that she doubted he'd get a happy from screwing an old hobag like his ex, but better to be on the safe side of his fangs. Wes and Gunn book-ended her with folded arms and disapproving faces, neither of them able to express the disappointment their employer's foolish sexathon had created in them. The vampire in question knelt with his head bowed, with his hands palm upward on his knees, shirtless and barefooted - an outward study in penitence. 

Joyce, Dawn and Anya stood on the semi landing that lead out into the courtyard behind the hotel, discomfit and embarrassment apparent on their features. Even the usually garrulous ex-demoness was silent-- acutely aware that now was not the time for bluntness. She was shivering slightly in fear; the threat of Angelus was more than dominant in her mind and quickly pushed Dracula's posturing threats to one side. She did not want to be here anymore. She was tired and had been looking forward to hearing about the sexcapades from Spike or Buffy and was wrong footed by the vampires who had indulgence in dangerous screwing. Xander had told her all about Angelus's last appearance in this dimension and she was very glad indeed that she had no puppies or fish. She was wondering why on earth Angel was playing Russian roulette with his soul and all their lives. Especially when he'd taken a Blood Oath to protect Dawn and Joyce; she knew the seriousness of vampire's fealties and was wondering how far Spike would take his right to punishment over the older vampire. She's seen many a dominant act taken over an Oath breaker and doubted that Buffy would want Spike doing any of those things, not when they were a new couple. 

Joyce had one arm wrapped around her pseudo-daughter's shoulders and a disapproving look on her usually calm features. She felt torn. Angel had saved her life only a few days ago and now he was risking hers and all the others with his foolish choices. He was a hero in her book, a flawed one but a hero who had ensured her survival and given her health back to her.  

She'd only experienced a tip of the iceberg when it came to Angelus's last appearance. Her mind shied away from how it had happened.  As far as she was concerned, she had the mother's right to live in denial. 'Buffy was a virgin and would always be one.'  She knew he was much older than her, but suspected that like most vampires he suffered from arrested development.  She and Giles had talked about this in the past. No matter what they experienced or lived through, a hint of teenage desires and actions seemed to guide them. Angel had made a mistake, a big one, but the recriminations were bound to teach him a much-needed lesson.  

Dawn was squeaking internally in delight; 'Angel was soooo busted, not the holier than thou vampire with a soul and so above Spike now, was he?' She was kinda gagging over the Darla screwage, cos it was like sleeping with his mom. Dawn pulled a face in disgust at her mental meanderings. Also Darla was like the town bike from what Spike had told her.  He'd even mentioned something about how the Master must've buried her in a Y-shaped coffin when he turned her. It had taken her a few days to work that one out, but once she did, Dawn couldn't stop giggling. She had known something weird was going on and had even spotted Darla, but thought she'd been dust so figured is was nothing but pizza induced imaginings. But now she was so right. Angel and Darla had been bumping uglies and not even somewhere private. What was with the boinking in public?  So not want she wanted to know...Imagined images of Angel's hairy ass bouncing up and down were not going to give her sweet dreams, ever. To this day she had no idea what Buffy had seen in him.  He was nothing compared to Spike.  

It was the three Sunnydale natives on the landing who were the first ones to notice the blond vampire's stealthy entrance from the basement, as they were the only ones not the ones caught up in yelling at Angel and his dick. 

"Buffy! Spike! Oh my god, are you guys okay now?" Dawn shrieked excitedly and then she pulled free of her mom's arm and flew into her sister's, babbling ten to the dozen. Trying to fill Buffy in on what Angel had been up to while she'd been making up with Spike. Spike's nostrils flared at the familiar sickly scents of his Grandmum and Peaches’ mingled sex scents, something he'd never expected his nasal passages ever having to suffer through again. His sharp accusing gaze snapped over to Angel, who was studiously refusing to meet his angry azure eyes. 

Buffy’s voice broke Spike's concentration on his contrite Elder. "Spike? What's going on?" Buffy's thin fingers caught hold of his elbow before he could launch himself in a fury over the lobby and tear Angel's dangly bits off and shove them up his arse.  

"Seems like Bum Fluff over here has been dipping his wick in a very old inkwell, one that I thought was dust," he sneered. Amber rapidly chased away the icy blue in his eyes as he vamped out with a bone rattling roar that made everyone stop in their tracks and turn big eyed to stare at him. His fangs flashed in the overhead lights as he growled and bared them at Angel, fury limning his taut frame as his hackles rose. 

"Wha…" Buffy frowned in confusion at Spikey metaphors. Then slowly her eyes widened to the point where she was positive they'd pop out of her frazzled skull as Dawn's twittering finally made sense to her. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as her mouth formed a moue of revulsion.  She whapped him on the back of the head. "Ewww! Gross, Spike!" she exclaimed. 

"Oi, don't bash your fiancé on the noggin." He ducked dramatically. The smack wasn’t exactly painful, but he was so hyped up from Angel's betrayal of his oath that he was not in the mood to be slapped on the head. 

"Fiancé?" Joyce, Dawn and Anya echoed in excitement. Joyce clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. Buffy's jaw dropped in shock over his casual announcement of their betrothal; he was so going to pay for that. She had wanted a ring on her finger before he said anything. Part of her was thrilled but part was still smarting over his refusal to do the bitey thing.  She was unsure as to why and was dying to ask Anya what was up with that. 

Soon everyone, barring Angel who had hunched his shoulder even more at the announcement, were clamouring to congratulate the newly affianced pair. Even Cordelia, who much to Buffy's surprise gave her a strong hug and a broad smile. It was the soggy tearstained embrace from her mom that began to warm her heart towards the idea of being Mrs The Bloody. It was Joyce's whispered and pained admission that she had never expected Buffy to have this experience that made Buffy finally accept within herself that it was the right thing to do - for now. She eyed his neck and let her fangs drop down, her mouth watering as she imagined having a nibble on it.  

"So, Peaches...not going to say anything?" Spike stalked over to the still submissive vampire, his eyes shut and hands now fisted tight. Blood was seeping from the half moon shaped wounds on the palms of his hands. "You got a lot to answer for as well as giving me a hearty congrats for the prospective nuptials."  

Angel winced, his heavy shoulders curling inwards even more. He was acutely aware that the entire foyer was now silent as its occupants waited with baited breath for his reaction to Spike's needling. He was tired; his back hurt from all the exercise earlier. He'd forgotten how active Darla liked him to be when satisfying her. The oblivious brunette was still under the impression he'd satisfied his departed sire.  

Spike continued his diatribe, aware that Angel wasn't ready to hold his hands up to the massive Darla shaped White Elephant between them. "From what I smell of it and what the others say, you've been a busy bunny." He smirked at Anya's outraged squeak and carried on. "Entertaining the old boiler - with not a thought for the safety of the two you gave me a Blood Oath to protect?" Spike growled again and bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to kick the flabby-arsed git around the entire hotel.  

"I'm sorry," Angel sighed and finally looked up. Shame filled his brown eyes as he glanced first at Spike, then hesitantly over at his lost girl who was holding onto her mother and sister's hands tightly. She returned his look solemnly, betrayal reflected in every line of her slight frame. 

"Dear God.  A Blood Oath?" Wesley mumbled in surprise. His eyes widening in stunned amazement behind his glasses. "Buffy, do you realise that Angel has placed himself in an untenable situation through his thoughtless actions tonight?" 

"Howsthat?" Buffy's face was now a picture of confusion.  She was sure that she hadn’t read about the oathy thingy in that book. 

"Spike has the right to, well, take..." He trailed off uncertainly when he realised there were some very young ears hanging on his every word. Before Dawn could even draw breath to whine or demand, Joyce had clapped her hands over her youngest's ears and pulled her swiftly upstairs. She was not willing to see any taking of anything tonight and there was no way on earth Dawn was either. 

"Oh my God, there will be no taking of Angel in front of me.  There is not enough money in the world to pay for the kinda therapy I would need for that trauma." Cordelia made a gagging noise and stalked off, pulling a loudly protesting Anya behind her. 

"But I want the see the pretty vampires having sex...that's not fair!" was the last plaintive wail heard from her as they disappeared rapidly up the stairs after Joyce and Dawn.  

"Spike, there is no way you are doing that.  You're mine." Buffy's eyes flashed purple as she let her fangs drop. 

"Oh for the love of Mike, can you see me dropping trou round here? With all you lot ogling me?" Spike whirled and pinned a blushing Wesley with a glare that would freeze fire. "You ruddy Watchers are obsessed with sex and bloodplay," Spike barked out a sharp laugh. "What do you lot do? Have seminars on it?" He ignored Wes's fish impersonations. "I bet there are huge debates over the fact we don't need to breathe and how long we can give head, right?" He curled his tongue against the back of his fangs and smiled lasciviously. "Bet all the watcher girl's thighs quiver when reading you lot the smutty theories about us being mass shaggers of anything and everything, whether it has a pulse or not."  

Wes turned puce and suddenly found the tips of his shoes fascinating as Spike's comment rang true. Gunn guffawed loudly and clapped the humiliated ex-Watcher on the shoulder. 

"You Brits, it's always the quiet ones!" he laughed.  

"Well really, this is not necessary," Wes stuttered, knowing he had no defence as the ever-observant vampire was spot on. There were numerous texts on the sexual practises of vampires and the engravings illustrating them had been a visual aid of relief for a lot of trainee watchers over the years. He himself had led seminars on the subject and he’d produced a top class thesis on the mating practises of the vampire clans. 

"Spike, give the guy a break." Buffy was rapidly approaching the turning tail and scampering off cos of the massive embarrassment that was Spike. "Focus on the situation, not on the totally pervy watchers." She mentally shied away from the image of Giles getting a happy over a vamp sex manual. 'Gahh, so not something I wanna think about when discussing patrol with Giles.' 

"Right, the situation.  Sorry, love." Spike pivoted on his heels and turned his attention back to Angel, his face settling in sombre lines. "You offered me a Blood Oath to protect my kin.  You failed in honouring that pledge, how do you plead?" Spike's usually rough timbered voice smoothed out and he took on a polished tone that surprised them all, except for Angel. Wes, Gunn and Buffy blinked in unison, surprised at his upper-class accent that was not so dissimilar to Wes's cut glass voice. 

"You brought that vicious old tart in here for a quick poke, knowing that you were putting all of the girls in danger, let alone your own people. Why?" Spike demanded. 

Angel's gaze flickered to Buffy's still form briefly, giving Spike the confirmation of what he had suspected in that one longing look. 

"So that was the way of it." Spike reached down and caught hold of Angel's dishevelled hair and yanked his head back with a brutal twist of his wrist.  

"I'm sorry I let you all down.  Do it, Spike.  You have the right of it." With that, Angel bared his throat. Spike struck without preamble; Angel knew the score and offered no resistance. It was Spike's privilege. 

Seconds stretched into minutes as the two men and Buffy bore silent witness to the ancient vampiric ritual. 

"So, no sex then?" Gunn whispered to them. "Cos kinda have to say phew to that, not something I wanna witness." 

Buffy's frown deepened and she nudged Gunn in the ribs with her elbow none too gently. "Hey, enough with the slashy homoerotic sexage.  That's my guy over there." 

"Sorry, ma'am." 

"Fascinating. I imagine that must be starting to pinch a bit by now." Wes's fingers twitched as he ached to take notes. He was witnessing something that he imagined no other mortal had ever seen; it was the stuff of his wildest dreams and imaginings. 

Spike managed to contain his groan of pleasure.  It had been so long since he'd tasted familial blood and his demon was savouring every last drop. Dru had never been strong enough after Prague and he had nearly forgotten the heady flavour of untainted Aurelian blood, but having it offered freely and so willingly was the cherry on the top.  

Angel could feel his body weakening with each long pull of Spike's mouth. His veins were slowly constricting as they dried out; he could feel his flesh tightening on his bones and his gums receding as he began to feel light-headed. Spike continued to drain him, Angel's hands beginning to shake as he felt consciousness start to leave him whilst his Grandchilde exacted his blood price. He knew that Blood Oaths and the breaking of them could result in death if the injured party wished it so. Angel shook as Spike's fangs dug deeper with no thought to gentleness.  He knew that he'd failed and deserved this. Penitence was owed and he would pay with his life's blood. Allowing Darla in the hotel was a monumentally wrong, but the ultimate sin was leaving himself open to a dusting by sleeping next to her in post coital bliss. Then there was his greatest shame, trying to lose his soul because of being jealous of Spike and Buffy. He had done all this on top of abandoning his promise to protect Joyce and Dawn.  

He deserved to be drained to dust -- then everything went black. 

Spike allowed himself one final pull before he ripped his fangs free of Angel's withered neck, tearing the skin badly in the process. He'd felt Angel succumb to oblivion. It was enough; he knew that dusting Angel would hurt Buffy and he wasn't about to start down that path.  

"Will he survive?" Wesley's query broke the shocked and mute tableau. 

"With some care, yeah, he will." Spike reached out for Buffy, instinctively knowing she needed reassurance. He could sense her confusion through their bond about the ritual and was shocked by Angel's poor choices. It had been something she'd never expected from her first love.  He'd always been flawless in her eyes, despite losing his soul. She flew into Spike's arms and held him tight. 

Gunn easily lifted the shrivelled husk of Angel's emaciated form into his arms. "I'll chain him up and lock him in his rooms with some blood."  

Wesley nodded his thanks and was about to join Gunn when the phone rang. It was second nature that had him reach for it, all the while watching Gunn’s progress out of the room. "Angel investigations.  We help the...who is this? Ah, so good to hear from you. I’m sorry? Beg your pardon…Willow, slow down. Where are you? What is going on?" he barked out as the voice on the other line began to get more and more hysterical. 

"Wills? Oh my God, is that her? Gimme." Buffy dragged Spike over to her former Watcher, her ears out on stalks. “What’s she doing calling from the coven? I thought she was in seclusion.” 

She bounced impatiently from one foot to the other as the taller man evaded her hands, his brow furrowing in concern as he listened.  

"I'll tell them," he said into the receiver tiredly.  And with that, he rung off and sighed heavily. 

"Hey! She's my friend.  Why couldn't I speak with her?" Buffy pouted at Wes and then her brows tightened as she realised that the call was not of the good. "What's happened?" she whispered, her voice small and scared. Last they'd heard from Willow was that she was being re-trained by the Devon coven and now she was calling Angel. "How come she called here?"  

Spike held her tight, offering comfort the only way he could. 

"Spit it out, Cambridge," he growled. 

"Well, it appears that Glory staged on attack on your friend Tara and Giles was caught up in it." Wesley managed not to stammer as he delivered the news to the two partners, himself still more than a little stunned by what he’d been told.  

“When? Where?” Spike barked out. 

“This morning.  It appears that Glory had decided that Tara was her Key. She moved to appropriate her and seems to have discovered that she wasn’t and drained her mind.” 

Buffy’s tears were flowing in a steady stream as she silently berated herself for abandoning Tara to her fate. They’d left believing it would be a quick trip there and back, and that Glory and her cronies would’ve never known that they were gone. She’d been wrong. They left Tara defenceless and vulnerable, without either of them there to stand between her and the demented Hell goddess intent on destroying them all in her search for her Key. “God, it’s all my fault.” Her slender frame shuddered as she dry retched.  

“Buffy, don’t. It’s not your fault.” Spike was grim faced, all too aware that nothing he said would make any difference. His girl took the weight of the world on her shoulders without any flinching and wavering from her path, but this was one guilt trip he was not going to be able to cosset her out of. Lines of frustration were etched around his mouth and eyes as he reached for her and smoothed her hair from her tear soaked face.  

“But it is. I left her alone, defenceless.” Buffy whimpered and collapsed against his chest, wiping her face on the soft cotton.  

Spike shushed her as he stroked her hair, rocking her back and forth trying to reassure her. He was partly beating himself up for rushing out of Sunnyhell without more safety measures in place, both he and Giles thought that a day away would not be a danger for any of them. A thought occurred to him. “Hang about.  How did Red find out?” 

“She sensed something was about to happen to her lover and convinced the Coven to assist her in getting to Sunnydale.  They agreed to help and sent her over. But it seems like she was a little late.” 

Wesley winced, knowing that what he was about to say was going to devastate his former charge. “Buffy, I am so sorry, but it gets worse.” Wesley wanted to run from the scene. He felt like a ghoul watching the anguish of Buffy’s face as she braced herself for more bad news from Willow.  

“It’s Giles.” Wesley nearly chocked on the words, but managed to force himself to swallow hard and plunge on. “He’s in hospital, a coma and well, the doctors aren’t confident about his diagnosis.”  

It was ironic the lobby of the Hyperion had been a hive of sound and activity when they arrived and now it was silent. A frozen tableau of misery and fear.  

So quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop. 

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