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Chapter 4

Spike felt Angelus shift behind him, the elder removing his arm from around his middle and rolling over to get out of bed. 

“You’re leaving?” Spike asked as he disengaged himself from his slumbering childe and turned to face his sire. 

“I…I’ll be back.  But, with Buffy’s…” Angel couldn’t bring himself to say death and his voice trailed off.  Whatever Spike had done, Angel couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry.  His childe had managed to bring them back together, because with as much as he loved William, with the Slayer – Buffy – still alive and fighting evil, he wouldn’t have been able to force himself to give up his quest for redemption.  His fate, his path, had been tied to the girl, and now that she was among the undead, his cause was gone.  

True, he knew he’d never be able to kill again.  To drink from the source.  And, Spike, thank god, didn’t expect that of him.  When he thought of all the time he’d wasted…. 

A century that he could have been with his boy.  The gypsies had had their revenge.  Tearing him away from the one thing that he’d cared about most.  For over a hundred years, he’d lived in squalor, feeding off of the dregs of society, and when even that was too much, animals – before finally sinking to an all-time low with rodents.  He’d paid for his crimes. 

He cleared his throat, and glanced at his childe’s hurt expression.  Angel knelt down beside the bed, his hand caressing the harsh angles of his boy’s cheekbones. “Her watcher’s gonna know.  She wasn’t like other Slayers.  Buffy had friends, a family.  Giles is…he’s a good man, Will.  He shouldn’t have to find out about his Slayer’s death from the Council.” 

Spike closed his eyes, leaning into his sire’s caress and nodded in understanding.  “You’ll be careful?  I don’t like the thought of you goin’ to his place and breakin’ the news of her death.  I’ll not be happy if the bloke gets the drop on you and stakes you because your conscience won’t let you defend yourself against his anger.  Maybe I should come with—” 

“No!” 

The younger vamp arched a brow at that heated denial.  He watched as Angelus stood and quickly dressed, for once waiting patiently for his sire to voice his reasons. 

“Look…Spike…William… just do this for me.  Stay here, please?  Keep an eye on your childe until I get back.  She’s going to need you, and if you go hieing off with me, she’ll go out on her own.  You know how great their hunger is when they’re just turned.  It makes them careless.  Stay with Buffy…make sure nothing happens to her.  I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me.” 

“I hardly doubt that as you haven’t even left yet, and already ‘m missin’ you,” Spike retorted. 

“William…” Angel closed the distance between him and his childe, sitting on the edge of the bed so he could pull the younger vamp close.  His lips found Spike’s unerringly, his tongue boldly thrusting inside.  When he felt the buttons of his shirt start to give way, Angel jerked away.  “I’ll be back soon.  Stay out of trouble.”  His voice was unnaturally brusque, worry for his family making his command harsher than he’d intended. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when Spike nodded once and curled back around his sleeping childe.  Feet barely making a sound on the off-colored carpet, he let himself out of the room, grabbing a spare key from the table near the door.  Angel wasn’t looking forward to his talk with the watcher.  Far from it, in fact.  But, what he’d told Spike had been the truth.  And, maybe Giles could take some comfort in the fact that she wasn’t really dead, so much as undead. 

He walked to the door at the end of the aisle and let himself outside, confident in the sun’s position.  Only a faint glow shone in the sky where it had lowered behind the distant horizon. 

It had been almost a full twenty-four hours since Buffy had last been seen, her lack of presence at class no doubt worrying both her watcher and her friends.  Figuring the rag tag group would still be at school, he went there, rather than to the older man’s flat. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Giles was just coming out of his office when Angel pushed his way through the library doors.  His anger and desolation evident as he staggered to the table where Buffy’s friends had gathered, plopping himself disconsolately in one of the chairs. 

“Giles?  Giles, what is it?  Is it…Buffy?” Willow swallowed around the lump in her throat and managed to get her friend’s name out.  After both she and Xander had seen the distraught girl away from danger, they’d returned to the Bronze, expecting to see their friend waiting inside.  When they hadn’t, the pair had begun to worry before realizing that Buffy had probably gone home – it was a school night after all. 

Once she hadn’t shown the next morning, both had skipped their first class and raced to the library to inform Giles.  He’d ordered them back to class, taking the burden of the missing Slayer firmly on his shoulders.  How he’d not staggered under the weight was anyone’s guess. 

Now, several hours later, Willow had seen that weight cripple the man that was like a surrogate father to them all. 

“I…she’s…that was Quentin Travers, the head of the Watcher’s Council.  He’s just informed me of a new Slayer being called and that he needed my final reports of the Slayer’s ‘shortcomings’…can you believe it?  The wanker actually said ‘shortcomings’!  I’ve a good mind to deliver my report in person to let him know what I think of his terminology.”  He stood abruptly, a sweep of his hands sending the books on the table flying from its surface. 

Both Xander and Willow watched him without comprehending.  It wasn’t until Angel made himself known, his whispered, “The only time a Slayer’s called is when the previous one dies,” explaining things to the two.  As the realization of the vampire’s words washed over them, shock and disbelief waged battle on the pair’s faces before they crumpled in sorrow. 

Angel watched in a detached manner as the watcher continued to rage against the fates by demolishing the books that had, in part, been part of his charge’s destruction.  How Willow threw herself into her friend’s arms and began sobbing uncontrollably, Xander’s own eyes moist with tears he refused to let fall.  He thought about telling them of Buffy’s situation, but in the end, decided against it. 

Better for them to think she’d died.  Defending them as was her calling.  They’d deal with the pain of her loss and move on.  The biggest obstacle was going to be Buffy’s mother.  She’d no inkling of the kind of life her daughter had led.  Explaining her death, let alone, the lack of a body, was going to be difficult. 

Silently, he let himself out of the library.  He’d make a quick sweep of the cemeteries, then return home.  To Spike…and Buffy.  The three had some decisions to make, not the least of which was regarding Spike’s sire, Drusilla, and how the Anointed One was going to react to what Spike had done. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel could hear them as he walked down the hallway leading to their room, and he hurried his pace.  He fumbled with the key, the sounds of their lovemaking and the scent of their blood on the air making his fingers shake.  He needed to be inside.  Right now.  Watching.  Participating. 

He finally managed to get the key in the slot, opening the door with all possible haste.  Angel froze, his cock hardening in an instant at the image the two made on the bed.  Buffy was on her knees, her hands gripping the headboard.  Spike was fucking her from behind, his hands digging into her hips, fangs buried in her neck.  Blood was dripping from several holes on both of their bodies, which was why their scent had been so overwhelming in the hall. 

Spike tore his mouth away from Buffy’s throat and pinned his sire with a look, clearly telling the elder to hurry up and quit gawking. 

“Sire,” Buffy whimpered at the loss of his fangs, how his movements had slowed to almost nothing.  She was so close, his cock filling her ass promising her one hell of an orgasm.  He’d made her hurt so good, she’d momentarily forgotten the absence of the other male.  Angel.  

Her amber gaze flicked to the vampire swiftly removing his clothes, her senses just now detecting his presence.  She licked her lips as the last article fell away and he slowly made his way towards the bed.  Buffy felt her sire surge up into her once more, draping his body over her back.  His fingers gripped her wrists, and she realized that he wanted her to let go, which she eagerly did.  Then he sat on his haunches, pulling her back with him, making a spot for Angel in front of them. 

Angel arranged the pillows and settled himself in front of Buffy.  Spike had splayed his legs wide allowing Angel to slide his between them and stretch out on the bed beneath them. 

“Hold on to my neck, luv, and squeeze my thighs tight,” he murmured in his childe’s ear. 

She eagerly complied, ready and waiting for what was to come.  Her eyes locked with those of the vampire beneath her, watching while he stroked his cock a few times while he waited for her to be lowered down onto it. 

Spike wrapped one arm around Buffy’s waist to hold her in place and used the other to balance himself as he shifted them both down towards Angelus.  He felt his sire’s steadying hand, guiding him in the direction he needed to go.  Beneath him, Buffy mewled like a kitten, feeling the first brush of Angelus’ cock against her opening.  Then Spike was groaning too as his sire thrust deep inside her pussy, feeling the glide of the other’s cock through the thin barrier of skin that separated them. 

Buffy released her sire and draped herself over Angel, nuzzling his neck as the pair of vampires struck up a heavenly rhythm inside her body.  She purred her contentment at being stretched so completely.  

Angel felt the fangs gliding along his neck and looked enquiringly up at his childe.  At Spike’s nod, he moved one hand from her hip to the back of her head, urging her to take a taste. 

“’S ok, luv.  Have a taste,” Spike told her, his motions never ceasing. 

She needed no further encouragement and eagerly sank her fangs into Angel’s neck, climaxing at the taste of the elder vamp’s blood.  Not to mention the increased thrusts of the males above and below her. 

Angel was the first to join her, vamping as the pleasure became too great and piercing her throat with his sharp canines.  The added stimulation of Spike’s cock drew out his orgasm until it bordered on pain – his childe knew how to play his body so well.  But then, so too, did he.  He bit deeper into Buffy’s throat, sending another, more powerful climax racing through her body, his eyes pinned on Spike’s face as he reared back and let himself go, fucking his childe’s anal passage mercilessly while he came. 

“Bastard,” Spike mumbled without inflection as, finally spent, he collapsed on top of Buffy to seek a kiss from his sire. 

Angel’s rumbled chuckle jarred the pair and he smiled around the hard peck his childe gave him.  Using the last of his strength, he rolled them to the side so they could slide free from Buffy’s body.  That Spike didn’t immediately insinuate himself between him and Buffy showed that he believed Angel when he’d spoken earlier.  That, or he was too sated to move.  He liked to believe it was the former reason, and lifted his head to find his childe staring intently at him.  His blue eyes startlingly piercing in their regard. 

“The watcher?” he asked. 

“He’d just been told when I arrived, apparently word had just been received of a new Slayer being called.  I decided against elaborating more.  I’ll leave it to him to explain about Buffy to her mother.” 

Buffy had let their voices float over her, but at the mention of her mother, she couldn’t keep quiet. 

“Mommy?” she whimpered, more like the little girl and less like the vampiress she’d become.  “Angel?”  Seeing his dispassionate expression, she rolled over to plead with her sire.  “Sire?” 

Spike broke eye contact and stared down at the tearful face of his childe.  “Angelus is right, luv.  Better to leave it to the watcher to explain,” he told her, attempting to soothe her as he pushed her hair behind her ear. 

“But she’s my mom,” Buffy whimpered.  “She doesn’t know…about me being the Slayer.  She’s not going to understand…please, sire.” 

“Sire, please,” she added when he’d still yet to say anything. 

He was going to regret it, he just knew he was.  But, he remembered what he’d been like, wanting to take care of his mother, keep her by his side forever.  Seemed kind of hypocritical not to let the girl say goodbye. 

“Alright, I’ll scope it out, but if I don’t like anything about the situation, it’s not gonna happen, yeah?” 

“Thank you, sire,” she exclaimed as she threw her arms about him and hugged him close. 

“You can use my name, pet.  No need to be so bloody formal,” he griped, hugging her back. 

“Will?” 

 “Oh, sod it all.  It’s Spike.  Not that poofterish William,” Spike griped. 

“I kinda like William,” Buffy replied shyly. 

“To me, he’ll always be William,” Angel interjected, leaning over Buffy to plant a kiss on his disgruntled boy’s lips.  

Buffy giggled at their antics, then pouted when Spike pulled away and got out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” Angel demanded. 

“Got some scouting to do, don’t I?  Sooner that’s done, the sooner we can leave this place behind.” 

“I’ll come with you.”  Angel moved to get out of the bed.

“No.  Stay and watch Buffy.” 

Angel’s eyebrows rose hearing his own words tossed back at him.  But he nodded and settled back against the pillows, pulling Buffy to his side.  It was still too soon to go off and leave Buffy alone, and as a young fledge, it was also too soon for her to steal out into the night with them - and not run the risk of getting caught. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike had obtained the address for Buffy’s mom’s home as well as the gallery where she worked before pressing a quick kiss to both of their lips and leaving their rented room.  He’d gone by the gallery first, figuring the woman would be working late; something that would probably make it easy for the Slayer to hide her secret. 

He settled in to wait, frowning when the woman walked out about a half hour later without a care in the world for her safety.  Her behavior seemed shocking to him, given the town’s reputation for its numerous deaths from unexplained neck wound injuries.  Honestly, she was a meal just waiting to happen. 

She walked to her Jeep, oblivious to his presence, her gaze on her purse as she fumbled for her keys rather than on her surroundings. 

He drummed his fingers on his steering wheel and huffed under his breath when she finally found them and unlocked her car door.  She started her vehicle and moved off, and Spike waited a minute before starting the Desoto and following after her.  

Surprisingly, she went straight home, but the sight of another man - the Slayer’s watcher, Spike guessed, from the looks of him - stepping from his vehicle as she pulled into the driveway did not bode well.  He pulled around the corner and parked the car, quickly shutting off the ignition so that he could be privy to their conversation.  Peering into the living room window produced no results, and he hurried around the side of the house, easily vaulting the fence, and made his way towards the other rooms around back. 

They were in the kitchen and the watcher was bumbling in his attempt to explain what had happened to the woman’s daughter.  She seemed to listen in growing disbelief, like she was placating the man for as long as possible before she was able to send him on his way.  When he mentioned her death, Spike watched as her features hardened and she demanded the man leave.  She turned on her heel, racing up the stairs as she called out her daughter’s name.     

Spike vaulted onto the roof and then dropped down onto the overhang just seconds before light flooded the Slayer’s bedroom as her mother hurried inside.  Seeing it empty came as a shock to the woman, and he watched as her face crumpled before she shook it off and started ransacking the room.  Nothing stood out as unusual until she searched the closet, grabbing a huge leather bag and dragging it out of the closet.  She fiddled with the zipper, emotions getting the better of her and making her fumble with the fastenings.  When she finally opened it, she gasped in shock, her hands automatically covering her mouth as she stared aghast at the items inside. 

“I’m sorry, Joyce,” Giles murmured as he stepped inside the room.  “Buffy…she…was a remarkable young woman.” 

“Get out,” she hissed, her eyes never leaving the bag.  “Get out of my house and never come back.” 

“Yes….um….well…..” 

“Get out!” she screamed as she covered her ears, rocking back and forth, her body shaking with silent sobs as the weight of her daughter’s death assaulted her. 

Spike had seen enough.  There was no way he was going to let the woman suffer any more than he had to.  He’d take Buffy to see her mother, and then they’d leave.  It was doubtful that the watcher would be back, and he’d like to put some distance between himself and his sire, Drusilla, before dawn. 

He’d leave her fate, and that of the Anointed One, in the hands of the new Slayer, whoever she may be. 

It was time for him to make up for lost time.  Time for him to have the family he’d lost so long ago.

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