Willow was putting out the candles and incense miserably, the soot and grime from the spell coating her face and everything else in the yard. "I don’t understand Giles! I said the words exactly right. I know I did. I’ve been taking Latin this year simply to learn how to pronounce things for spells. Tara, tell him," she whined.

Giles stood in the blackened mess of his backyard and cleaned his glasses in an effort not to scream at the young witch. While Tara was incredibly accomplished at spellcasting for someone of her age, Willow was still learning to unleash what Giles considered to be an intense power within her. And consequently, frequent mishaps like this were becoming more commonplace than not. Which is why he had almost ordered Willow to allow him and Tara and Anya to do the spell without her once Anya had returned. When she had begged, he’d relented. And now, this… "Willow. I have told you before. Even an incorrectly accented syllable can completely alter a spell’s intent. You quite clearly put emphasis on the wrong syllable in a word within the final chant," he said patiently, trying to reign in his temper.

"No, I didn’t! Our teacher pronounced it like this…" Willow began, only to be cut off by Anya.

"Actually, she had a lot more screw-ups than that Giles. She said a completely different word than what was written twice. I wonder if that will change the spell any? Once I tried to give a guy boils on his…but I said two of the words backwards and I ended up making his head explode. But I was only a novice demon then," Anya said matter-of-factly.

Giles looked at the charred mess, the equally sooty girls, and then back at Anya. "What words did she screw-up Anya?" he asked quietly, knowing this could full well have caused a number of things to happen to Buffy, and none that he could think were beneficial. He gave Willow a look that reduced her to a babbling mess of tears, and Tara took her inside.

"Well, I’m not sure but I think it probably gave someone a birds eye view of the Slayer’s thoughts… like a movie. But I can’t be sure whom Willow sent it to. Usually, slayers have so many ingrained mental wards that only a very few people who have been close to them can see through. And I’ve only seen it done so one slayer could see the death of the one before her…" Anya said fidgeting nervously. "And there’s no other slayer alive now… so it couldn’t be that."

Giles heart went cold as Anya explained, and he almost missed Xander coming out the back door yelling something. He shook his head and turned to the teen, "What did you say?"

"I said, I’ve lost them. I went to the bathroom… and now they’re both gone. Buffy and Spike have disappeared."

****************************************************

Spike stirred in his sleep, his arms tightening around the slight form next to him, his lips rooting against her neck, licking her pulse point lovingly. His cock hardened as he felt her powerful blood running through her veins, and he groaned, his eyes opening a crack. Her blood was calling to him, inticing him like ambrosia, and his features started to change. He drew in a deep breath, trying to reign in the demon screaming within him. When he opened his yellow eyes, Buffy was looking up at him, her wide hazel eyes trusting.

She lifted her leg up over his hip, scooting her fiery body up to his cool one. He groaned again as he realized she was totally naked, and becoming quickly aroused. Her dainty little hands grew aggressive, tearing his jeans from the hem instead of unzipping them, and lifting his steely cock towards her dripping center. When he entered her, a guttural cry escaped her lips and she ripped his shirt, baring his cool chest for her burning kisses. He watched her eyes grow dark as he bucked into her steadily, and she whimpered as they both reached the peak. Spike felt himself teeter on the edge with her, ready to come until she did the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

Buffy turned her head to the side, baring her neck, and brought his lips to her pulse. "I don’t think the chip will go off if you don’t mean to hurt me. Just don’t take too much and drinks are on me," she whispered huskily. Her pelvis arched into his and he couldn’t resist.

His fangs pierced her skin quickly, and her body convulsed in ecstasy as soon he began to drink. His dick just about exploded as the first drops of her blood hit his tongue, and he milked her only for the duration of his orgasm before he slipped his fangs out and licked the wounds until they closed. His body shook from the exquisite feeling, and he whispered sotto voce so the slayer couldn’t hear, "Mine," as his tongue lapped at the wound he’d placed purposely over Angel’s.

"Yours," she whispered back, ducking her head into his chest.

Spike’s head whipped up so quickly he’d’ve broken his neck if he were human. "What did you say?" His yellow eyes widened in disbelief; his shock was so great that his demon refused to retreat. First, Buffy let him drink from her, when he wasn’t even poisoned, and then she let him claim her. Did she even know what that meant in the vampire world?

"Yours," she repeated. When it was apparent that Spike was tongue tied, she smiled softly at him. "And yes, I know what that means. I know you didn’t mean for me to hear you claim me…but I did. A-Angel never did that, you know. He thought…he thought I didn’t know about that whole deal with vampires and their mates. I do, though. And…," she drew out, "I can’t wait for my chance to claim you." Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper as she nibbled on his neck, her blunt teeth causing his softening cock to jump in response.

His face slid back into it normal features as he stared, slack jawed at the woman who could not have uttered a more perfect response to his question. In fact, this entire exchange was up there on his top three list of the greatest things that had happened to him in his hundred and twenty five years. He still had no idea how to express the feelings coursing through his veins, so he kissed her with the most passion he’d ever put into a kiss in his unlife.

Buffy smiled as the kiss broke, her hands guiding his face down to her neck, trusting him to bury his face there now as they cuddled. He crawled on top of her again, his teeth nipping here and there, licking his brand like a happy pup. A laugh escaped Buffy’s lips; she’d never seen Spike so playful and carefree. He grinned, pinning her wrists down on the couch as she giggled, and finally he spoke.

"Don’t enter this lightly, girl. I tend to be a bit…clingy, they tell me. I spent a century with Dru and we never claimed one another. Once I’ve claimed you, there’s no turning back, especially if the situation becomes mutual. It’s almost magickal how when I go anywhere near this brand…your body will..respond appropriately," he said grinning wickedly as her heartbeat fluttered and her body grew hot as his mouth roamed the fresh scar.

"Spike!" she keened loudly. "Inside me. Now."

"Never ignored a lady in need," he muttered, positioning himself and thrusting into her already slick core. "Christ, Buffy, you’re so fucking hot, tight…it feels so much more…I can’t hardly…"

"Then don’t," she ground out huskily. "And do it right this time, baby. Make it real." Her eyes bored into his and he let out a growl that made her body quiver. She squeezed her famous slayer muscles around his cock and he roared, his face changing and descending to her neck, nursing roughly from the wound as he whispered the ancient claiming ritual, their bodies spasming from the intense pleasure.

The gang had been looking for Buffy and Spike for hours. They had split into teams, searching the mansion, the Bronze, the campus, the coffee shop, Lowell House, the dorms, the cemeteries, Buffy's house and even Spike's crypt. So far they had come up with nothing.

Giles was about to tear his hair out, Willow was babbling nonsensically, and Anya was complaining loudly about how this would affect her sex life if Buffy was dead somewhere. Something had to be done. Finally, Xander spoke up.

"I hate to be the one to suggest this. In fact, it makes me wanna puke, but… Maybe we should call Deadboy and see if he can come and find them. He knows them both the best. He might even be able to feel if they are trouble," he muttered, kicking a dirt clod against a tombstone.

"Excellent idea, Xander. We'll head back to my flat and call him. Hopefully, this will lead to something more productive than our recent search.," Giles said tiredly. He hated having to do this, but if what Anya had related to him was true, they needed every reinforcement they could find in Sunnydale. Their Slayer's life might depend on it.

*****************************************************

Angel arrived with Cordelia and Wesley in tow an hour later, the latter two looking extremely worse for the wear. "That is it, mister. The absolute last time you drive anywhere!" Cordelia shouted.

"Ah, yes, it’s good to be home," Angel sighed heavily, winking at Xander.

"Quite. Angel, the situation is still as I explained on the phone. They are still missing, and I’m not sure what to think. Do you have any sort of connection to Buffy that you could track her?" Giles asked anxiously.

Angel closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I know where she is."

"Really? That is amazing, Angel, you really must tell me how you…"

"He knows because he gave her the place, you ninny," Cordelia replied impatiently. "It’s his old apartment. He gave her a safe house." She tapped her foot, waiting for everyone to catch up. My God, were they always this daft? she thought.

"Yes, I did. And what I’m wondering is: why she didn’t tell any of you, and why on Earth you people trust Spike in anything?"

"Well, see, Deadboy, there’s this thing called the Initiative, and they did this electro mojo on Spikey…" Xander began as they walked to car, all piling in to go find Buffy and his wayward Childe.

****************************************************

Pulling up in front of the door, Angel stopped the car, and turned to the Watcher. "So to sum all this up… You think you screwed up some spell to read Buffy’s mind to see if she was under a spell to fall in love with Spike, again, but it backfired and you think someone else close to Buffy got in. You don’t know who, since it was none of us, and this only works if the next slayer has been called or the current slayer is close to death. Do I have it straight now?"

Giles nodded, noting that Wesley was looking at him like he’d just flashed the entire neighborhood. "And no, I didn’t bloody condone any of this, except the most recent spell. As you can see, they all do what they ruddy well please anyway."

For the first time, the people outside of Angel’s employ heard him laugh. "Giles, I wasn’t accusing-" suddenly his head whipped to the building in front of them. He jumped out of the car and began stalking toward the building angrily. "Give me a stake," he said, his voice turning flat and deadly. Xander tossed one out of the car at Angel’s retreating form, and gasped when Angel caught it, one handed without looking.

"That is a man with a mission, my friends," Xander whispered.

Tara shivered against Willow, feeling the hatred in Angel from afar. "I-I don’t think this is going to end w-well," she stammered.

Giles stared at her until Cordelia poked him. "Yes, well, let’s go see if we can be of any assistance."

Wesley snorted in a most un Watcher-like way as they all climbed out of the convertible somberly. Angel was flinging open the door as they approached and a feral growl shook even Cordelia down to her bones.

"Oh, shit, " she said, glancing at Wesley. When everyone looked at her, she explained. "The last time Angel made that sound, we cleaned up pieces of demon for two days, not to mention how long the carpets stunk."

Angel’s vamp face morphed as he stared at his Childe pinning Buffy to the couch and drinking from her. A great rumbling growl started in his chest, and Spike’s head shot up, his mouth smeared with blood. The crowd gathered behind Angel in time to see him dive for Spike, who rolled himself and Buffy off the couch, crouching in front of her protectively, ready to pounce if Angel came any closer. His own territorial growl answered, uncaring that he was naked, that people were staring as he glared at his Sire.

"Mine," he roared at Angel, who was approaching deceptively slowly. "Look, Angelus, I don’t know how you got out to bloody play, and how in Lucifer’s name you’ve got these people with you, but if you touch her, I will kill every one of you." His body tensed for a fight and the yellow eyes flashed in warning.

"This is going to be ugly, " Cordelia whispered. "Any of you guys ever seen a vamp rumble? Like a real battle for territory? Just be glad there are no axes in plain view."

Willow looked at Xander who looked at Giles. They didn’t care about the rumble; they were only concerned with Buffy, who was currently out cold on the carpet behind Spike.

A small moan filtered up from behind Spike as Buffy blinked, stunned from the sudden fall to the ground and slight blood loss. Her eyes tried to focus and for a moment, she thought she had dreamed the whole episode with Spike, because Angel was here. Then she realized…I’m naked! In front of everyone, including..Wesley!?!? She scrambled for cover behind a chair, peeking over to see Angel charging toward Spike full speed. "Wait!" she screamed, her head ringing for a second. No one heard her in the fracas, the two vampires having form a mass of growling, fang filled flesh in the center of the room. Clothing began ripping and the smell of fresh blood permeated the air. The growls grew louder as the vampires communicated animalistically.

To hell with what they see, she thought. Stomping up to the pile, she grabbed Angel’s shirt and yanked it away from Spike. "I said wait, goddammit!" She tossed Angel toward the couch, and grabbed a blanket from the chair, wrapping it around herself as she sat down on Spike’s lap on the other side of the room.

The jaws of everyone in the room dropped as Buffy wiped the blood from Spike lips bringing her finger to his mouth to suck on, and hugging him, even in game face, as he nuzzled at her neck. She held him close, listening to the soft, possessive growls he was emitting unconciously, while he was calming down by listening to her heartbeat. She raised her head and stared up at them defiantly, her chin stuck out. "Just what the hell are you gaping at? And who do you think you are, traipsing into my apartment, which was supposed to be a secret," she glared at Angel, "and beating up on Spike?"

Spike finally lifted his head, his demon gone, and said, "Yeah! What the bloody hell are you wankers doing here? Especially you, mate." He glared hard at Angel, his eyes telegraphing his dislike.

Before anyone could answer, Angel was in front of Spike, crouching and glaring, fangs and all. "Watch it, boy. She’s mine, and always will be. And we just stopped you from finally having that ‘really good day’, didn’t we? I know all the blood on your lips isn’t from the fight, unlike the others. I can smell it," he growled sotto voce.

Buffy pushed hard on Angel’s chest, causing him to fall on his butt. Spike buried his face in Buffy’s shoulder, trying not laugh. "For your information, Mr. Has No Right To Be So Overprotective, you’re totally wrong…on both accounts."

Angel’s eyes met hers, then flickered to the fresh neck wound, feeling the magick rise from it, smelling in the air what he should’ve known from Spike’s words. His Childe had claimed her! His Slayer. Spike had essentially married Buffy in the vampire world. Angel stared at her in wonderment, and she gave him a sort of lopsided smile as Spike grinned like an idiot. "You…you … you let him. My god." He staggered backwards and slumped against the couch, his hands covering his face.

"Excuse me? But the rest of us non-vampiric, non-mind reading sidekicks would like to know what the hell is going on? Was Spike trying to kill Buffy or not?" Xander asked impatiently.

The rest of the gang mumbled in agreement from behind Cordelia who had ushered then all back at the beginning of the fight and was now watching Angel rub his temples yet again.

"I know ! I know!" Anya said suddenly, waving her hand in the air. "I know what’s going on." Everyone stared her. "I told you I hate when you do that," she mumbled self-consciously.

Xander patted her shoulder. "Come on honey, clue us in. I like dating the smart girl."

"He claimed her. That’s why Angel’s pissed. Although, I’m fairly sure you can’t claim someone who’s already claimed unless you do some big ceremony, so I don’t see how he did it unless… Well, she had to be consenting. But it also means Angel couldn’t have claimed her, because we can see he’s not exactly pleased with this," Anya rambled.

"He what?" the Watchers cried in unison.

"Why in the world would Spike claim Buffy? Whatever that is," Willow piped up.

"Maybe because I bloody well love the chit, you nonces!" Spike burst out in frustration. Why couldn’t her damn friends and the poof stay out her life for one brief, personal moment? They ruined the whole ritual for her. Worse yet, there was a gnawing emptiness in Spike from the lack of a reciprocal claim. And he was itching for fight because of it.

Buffy turned her head up to Spike, disbelief written all over her face. His face softened, and he whispered something in her ear that only she could hear. A bright grin flashed across her face and she burrowed into his embrace.

Angel raised his head at Spike. His eyes, still yellow, glared at his Childe. "And what make you think I believe that for second? I remember what Angelus told you about killing Buffy. You loved Dru for well over a century, and yet you never made even a passing reference to claiming her. How do I know you’re not doing this just to get back at me or to get close to Buffy so you can kill her?"

"If I wanted to kill her, I’ve had ample opportunity for the past six months, you git!! I could have slit her throat in her sleep every single night when I crept in after dark. Or drained her twice over in the past hour! Why would I wait until everyone knew my intentions and draw a damn mob that would hunt me until I died? And why would I even bother claiming her?"

"To thumb your nose in my face like you have since the day you were sired Spike. I took Dru; you take Buffy. I know how you work, boy," Angel spat out.

Buffy stared out Angel incredulously before grinding out, "Do you want to know the worst thing about you, Angel? The very worst thing? Not that you break hearts, or lose your soul, or leave. It’s that you never stay gone. You wanted me to have a normal life, all the trappings. News flash: I’m the Slayer. I never get to have those things; I’m probably sterile anyway. Normal men can’t handle me or my job. And who wants a white picket fence if vamps are going to tear it down every night? I can’t even have a dog because God knows what the whacko did to her last puppy… and she isn’t even the sickest game in town. What if normal doesn’t work out? Should I be alone until some vamp has his ‘really good day’? I’m living on a deadline as it is."

The room stayed silent while Buffy caught her breath, tears falling copiously. Spike wrapped in his arms, rocking her, whispering, "It's okay, baby. Spike will take care of it. It'll all be okay." He stood up carrying her to the armchair and curled up in it with her on his lap, clinging to his chest for dear life. Then his gaze turned on Angel and the rest of them.

"I think, perhaps, we should continue this discussion later, yes? We’ll stay here until sundown tomorrow. You lot sod off until then. Find shelter, Sire." His eyes caught the stake on the floor. "If she’s hurt when you come back, you can use it on me. I’ll even stand still and let Harris do it."

Angel sighed and looked at Giles, who shrugged. "I told you she does what she damned well pleases. I certainly never taught her to let vampires bite her. Even poisoned ones," he added.

The elder vampire’s shoulder sagged, and he got up, placing the stake on the table. "Tomorrow. Sundown. You’d better still be here, Childe," he said sibilantly, getting up and stalking towards the door.

As they filed out quietly, Cordelia peeped her head back in and addressed Spike. "Okay, so I’m really wishing I had told Angel about this vision now. But tomorrow… could you guys have clothes on, Spike?" She flashed him a smile, and darted out the door towards the rumbling engine outside.

Spike shook his head in surprise then grinned ear to ear. At least someone believed him.

Continued...