Parts: 21
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~Part: 21~
Willow stared at the bite mark on her neck, the same one that had been reflecting back at her for over an hour. She sat in front of the mirror in Cordelia's bathroom trying to figure out how she felt -- how she really felt -- about Angel's claim. She had gone with the Seer to her apartment to pick up some clothes, and so they could reassure Dennis that Cordy was all right. Willow had excused herself to go into the bathroom soon after they had arrived, and had not been able to tear her eyes away from the mirror, from the mark, since then. This was the first time she'd actually been alone since he had claimed her and, because of that, for the first time she had been able to actually start to sort through her feelings.
She and Angel had talked about what it meant to be claimed a lot since he'd done it. Talked, made love, talked, made love; it was becoming a pattern with them. She was absolutely positive there was more to the claiming process (and the things that went along with it) than what Angel had told her, but she wasn't going to rush him into telling her more. She was barely able to deal with what he had told her already, and any additional information would probably be more than she could handle. She had been almost giddy at the idea of going with Cordelia to her apartment, about the chance to think, and the witch hoped she did not hurt Angel's feelings by the way she quickly volunteered to leave. She simply needed to get out of the hotel for a while.
Not that it did any good. Her valiant attempt at self-distraction failed completely. Angel's claim was still at the forefront of her mind, and Willow was beginning to think that she would be contemplating it for a while. It was just . . . too heavy of a thing, too intense a concept to ignore for long.
"Willow?" Cordelia sounded worried. "Are you okay?"
Her eyes closed, the witch answered, "You can come in, Cordy."
The door opened, Cordelia walked inside, and Willow made no attempt to hide the mark on her neck. The redhead watched as the Seer's eyes widened dramatically. "Which one of them?" she demanded. "Which one of them do I stake?"
The fact that her friend was dead serious did not surprise Willow at all. She had always known Cordelia had a protective streak in her when it came to her friends. What was surprising was how good it felt to realize that she was now counted as one of those friends. Willow found herself smiling. "Neither one of them."
"But, Willow. . ." Cordelia did not sound convinced at all.
"It was Angel."
Willow watched the brunette's eyes widen, her mouth open slightly, and then cringed slightly when Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "That bastard," the Seer said, her voice full of passion. "I will kill him."
"It didn't hurt," Willow said softly. "It didn't hurt at all."
Cordelia arched an eyebrow. "You have got to be kidding me."
Willow felt the blush spreading across her face and raised her hands to cover her eyes. "If only I was."
The brunette reached out, grabbed the hem of Willow's shirt, and tugged. "Come on, Will. We're gonna have a nice, long conversation about this, but there is no way I'm having it in my bathroom."
***
Angel sauntered into the kitchen of the Hyperion completely unaware that everyone knew about the claim. He and Willow had spent the previous day together in his bed and, as far as Wesley knew, neither one of them knew that Spike had been watching them the night the claim was made. Angel's cheerful good morning and the way he asked after everyone as though he had not a care in the world, all bolstered the former Watcher's theory. Sighing, Wesley said, "Good morning, Angel."
"You do realize that it's actually afternoon, right?" Xander joked.
"It's morning whenever he gets up, man," Gunn replied. "Vampire time and all that. You get used to it."
Wesley glanced at his lover, an unbidden smile gracing his lips as Gunn and Xander teased Angel good-naturedly. Neither one of them knew -- or shared -- the concerns that he and Rupert did and, while that wasn't exactly fair to the other two men, it was the only option at the moment. Wesley glanced at Rupert. The man gazed at Angel, his eyes impossible to read, and he did not envy the other Watcher's position at all. He knew Rupert thought of Willow as a daughter . . . he had for many years, and if Angel had in fact claimed Willow, that would put the older man in a very awkward predicament.
Claims did tend to, whether intentionally or not, virtually eliminate the possibility of the woman in question having more than limited contact with other men. A vampire's demon was insanely possessive of its mate and naturally jealous. Wesley only hoped that if Angel had in fact claimed Willow, his soul would temper that aspect of his personality at least slightly. Somehow he didn't envision Willow being very compliant, should Angel attempt to prohibit her from seeing Xander and Rupert. And, he admitted selfishly, he hoped she would feel the same way about Gunn and himself, as they had both grown close to her during her stay in LA.
'But,' he reminded himself. 'We don't even know for sure that Angel claimed Willow. We have only Spike's word to go on-'
Wesley's thoughts were interrupted suddenly when the kitchen door swung open, slamming back against the wall to reveal a clearly livid blond vampire. Everyone in the room watched as the two vampires stared at each other, their eyes unblinking.
"She was mine," Spike's voice was cold, hard.
"Never," Angel stated.
"Bastard."
"Remember who you're talking to, boy."
"Don't you think for a fucking second I've forgotten, Angelus."
The younger vampire said nothing else, and turned to walk out of the kitchen as quickly as he entered. Angel followed him without a word. Wesley watched them both, his eyes following them as they walked through the basement door and out of sight. He had no doubt that, wherever they were going, they were nowhere near finished exchanging words. He was unsure whether he should be relieved or concerned that the two of them seemed content to . . . argue in private.
Across the table, Rupert let out an exasperated sigh. "Bloody hell."
Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Wesley looked at the other man and had to agree. Bloody hell, indeed.
***
"Holy shit."
Willow nodded. "Uh huh."
"Wow."
Again, Willow nodded. "Uh huh."
"And it didn't hurt?"
"Nope," the witch said. "Not at all."
"And, it means that you are basically Angel's property for the rest of your life?"
"Yep."
"You'll be able to feel each other, and if you become close enough, you'll be able to feel all of his vampire family, too?"
"That about covers the basics. There are other things, though."
"Wow."
"Uh huh."
Shocked, Cordelia's mind was swirling with too many thoughts and she found it impossible to settle on one. Being speechless was a novelty to her and left her feeling confused. She would never admit it, of course, but Willow's news that Angel had claimed her and all that it entailed had thrown her for a real loop. She looked over at Willow. "Can you feel him now?"
Willow shrugged. "I know he's awake. Beyond that . . . not really. I mean, I'm more aware of him, but I haven't learned to feel his emotions through the bond yet."
"Weird."
"No kidding."
"And he didn't warn you? Or ask your permission? 'Cause that seems kinda rude. I mean, it's like a marriage, isn't it?"
It was only when she saw Willow's tears that Cordelia realized she had said the wrong thing. "Oh! Willow! Don't cry, honey!"
Wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, Cordelia felt entirely out of her depth and silently wished she knew what to say.
***
Spike waited until they had reached what was clearly Angel's personal workout space before turning and quickly invading the other vampire's personal space. "You knew she was mine. You fucking knew she was mine!"
"She has never been yours, William."
Anger raged through Spike. "Do not call me that. You do not get to call me that. And she has been mine! Since the first time I bloody saw her, the witch has been mine!"
Angel smirked. "Then why is she with me, William? Why does she love me?"
"Son of a bitch," Spike's fist hit Angel's jaw sending him flying back into a wall, and the older vampire's laughter merely spurred the blond on.
Every punch, every kick was countered with one of Angel's own, but it didn't matter to Spike. He poured all his rage, all of the betrayal he felt into each blow he dealt, and refused to back down. He would not back down. Not after the humiliation of what Angel had knowingly done to him. Not after the betrayal that had been years, so many years, in the making.
"I fucking hate you," he kicked Angel hard, sending him to the floor.
The other vampire kicked his legs out, knocking Spike easily to the ground and rolled quickly on top of him, pinning the blond to the floor. The smell of blood -- their blood -- filled the air, and Spike knew without having to look that Angel's demon was at the fore. Just as his own was. Pinned, unable to move, he still refused to admit defeat. No matter how many of their fights had ended this way, no matter how many would in the future, Spike promised himself he would never admit defeat.
Angel's voice was gruff when he spoke. "Look at me, boy."
"Sod off."
"Now."
Hearing that commanding tone, so much like Angelus', so much like the Sire Spike had lost those many years before, he couldn't help but do as he was told. His eyes snapped open and he instantly regretted it as he saw the arrogant satisfaction bleed into Angel's eyes.
"William."
"No."
"William."
"You are not allowed to call me that. You are not him anymore than that bastard who emerged in Sunnydale was. So bugger off."
He saw Angel's eyes close, and Spike did gain the small satisfaction of knowing that that was able to shut the great poof up; reminding Angel of the way he had treated his childer in Sunnydale. His little victory was short lived, however. They always were.
"Willow is mine," Angel growled suddenly. "You will admit that and respect it, or you will not leave this basement."
"I told you to bugger off."
"Wrong answer."
And, in that moment, Spike had no doubt that it was.
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