Chapter 7:

Buffy had no intention of staying in all night like she'd led Willow to believe she would. She didn't care if she was injured and needed rest—that rest would never come as long as she knew Spike was still out there. Almost as soon as the sun had fallen over the horizon, she climbed out the bedroom window and down the large tree beside the house. She ignored her body's protests, trying to force her mind to block out the pain. She wasn't going to let her weakened state stop her. If anything, Spike wouldn't be expecting to see her again this soon after he'd almost killed her, and she'd have the element of surprise on her side.

"Ooh, it's her, Daddy. It's William's new dolly. The one that burns him like sunshine and makes him taste of ashes. Let's play with her now before she tries to find him and finish their game."

"Mmm, she is a nice one. All firm and ripe. And coming from the Slayer's house, too. Isn't that interesting," came the reply, a deep, male voice that sent chills up Buffy's spine.

Buffy had frozen at the sound of a woman's voice, the speaker's mental instability clear from both her words and her tone. When the man spoke, she turned slightly, her heart thundering at her first sight of Angelus and Drusilla. She knew they weren't like the majority of the vampires she faced, and fear rushed through her, though she didn't let herself give into it. Instead, she reached into her pocket and grabbed a stake, holding it at the ready.

Drusilla hissed. "Dolly's playthings aren't very nice. Bad dolly. Bad."

Angelus stepped forward, moving with inhuman speed, and grabbed Buffy's wrist, twisting it until the bones snapped with an audible crack and the stake fell to the ground. Buffy gasped in pain, but didn't give Angelus the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

"Good job, Daddy," Drusilla said with a sharp clap of her hands. "Teach the naughty girl a lesson."

Angelus smiled before using the hand that wasn't around her small wrist to hit Buffy hard on the side of her head, making her crumple to the ground, unconscious. He picked her up, holding her limp body across his arms. "Ready to have some fun, Dru?"

"Kill her, Daddy. Kill her now. Drink her down. Twist her foul little neck," Drusilla replied with a sort of glee that became all the more sinister for its childlike quality.

"I'll kill her soon enough, but I want to play with her a bit first. See what kind of music I can make from her screams," Angelus said. He walked off with Buffy, Drusilla trailing behind him.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke with her head pounding and her body aching. She looked around, noting the unfamiliar surroundings. It was then that she also realized she was naked and remembered the vampires. She panicked, trying to move, only to find herself chained to a wall by a set of rusty but sturdy manacles. Pain shot from her broken wrist as she fought with the chains, and she slumped, knowing she had no chance of breaking free.

"What the bloody hell have you done, Angelus?"

Buffy jerked her head up at the sound of Spike's voice. He was standing with the two vampires who had taken her, and from the look on his face, he was not happy. For a moment, she felt a rush of relief hit her until she realized that Spike was not going to save her and wondered why a thought to the contrary had entered her mind for even a moment. He was a vampire, just like the other two, and if anything he'd most likely participate in whatever degradation they had planned for her.

"You don't want to share," Drusilla said to Spike, snapping her jaws. "Naughty, Spike. Mummy's quite cross with you. You shall have to be punished."

"I'm a bit cross myself," Spike said, his eyes traveling to Angelus. "That girl isn't yours."

"She will be," Angelus replied with a grin. "She'll be mine just like Drusilla here is. You think she'll want you to touch her then?"

"Stay away from her," Spike growled. "That girl is mine. You have no prior rights to her like you do with Drusilla."

Angelus smirked. "Neither do you. All you did was fuck her and have a little taste. Doesn't make her yours." Angelus walked over to Buffy, unchaining her. She struggled against him, but he kept his hold tight until she gave up and slumped in his arms.

Spike's demon came forward at the sight of Angelus holding Buffy. He stalked towards them, knocking Drusilla out of the way without a second thought when she tried to stop him.

Angelus laughed as Spike approached, setting Buffy on her feet but holding her against his body, her back to his front. He pinched a nipple cruelly, making Buffy cry out in pain and Spike's anger grow. "You think she's yours, boy? Looks different to me right now." He ran his hands down Buffy's body, shoving three fingers into her dry pussy and delighting in the way it made her scream.

Spike roared in anger, his demon sick of being pushed around by Angelus. He'd been made a fool of enough with Drusilla. It wouldn't happen to him again with this girl.

"What do you think you're going to do, Willie?" Angelus taunted. "You gonna fight for her? That's always worked so well in the past, what with you losing every fight we've ever had and all. You're pathetic. It's why the women would always rather be with me than you. Women like a real man, not some sorry excuse that would rather recite his awful poetry to them than give them a decent fuck. It's no wonder Drusilla was so eager to come back to my bed. She hadn't gotten it good in years."

Spike roared, tackling Angelus and grabbing Buffy. Angelus looked surprised for a moment before getting to his feet, chuckling. "Come on, Willie-boy. Just hand her back. You know you have no chance against me. Be good now and maybe I'll let you play with her later."

Spike snarled. Angelus wasn't having this girl. She was his. She'd come to town searching for him, and he was the one who had taken her virginity the night before. No other man would ever touch her, especially Angelus. With a roar, he sank his fangs into the marks he'd already made on her neck, taking a strong pull of her blood before raising his head, crimson staining his lips. "Mine."

Angelus gaped in shock. "Did you just claim her? No one claims anymore. You really are a complete idiot."

Spike kept a tight hold on Buffy as he snarled at his grandsire. He'd done what he'd had to do to keep what was his. He'd shared enough, and the demon wasn't one for giving. The girl was his completely now. Angelus had taunted him by telling him he had no rights over her, and he'd changed that, given her his mark. Angelus could not bed, drink, or turn her now.

Suddenly, Drusilla was on her feet, jumping at Spike. Buffy slumped to the ground as Drusilla attacked her childe, clawing and screeching. Spike held up a leather-clad arm, trying to fend off her attacks, but she didn't stop. "I hate you!" she yelled. "You were my prince. Mine! You promised forever!"

Spike's demon retreated as Drusilla's cries made the full weight of the situation hit him. He'd claimed a woman that wasn't Dru. He'd chosen a woman other than the sire who had rescued him from a life of mediocrity and brought him into this beautiful world of darkness and bloodshed. He'd turned away from the face of his salvation. "Drusilla…"

"I hate you!" Drusilla snarled again before pulling back and drawing into herself, whimpering. Angelus walked over to her, placing his large hands on her frail shoulders.

"You should probably just take your human and go," Angelus told Spike. He smirked. "Don't worry—I'll take good care of Dru. She won't even miss you."

Part of Spike wanted to throw himself at Dru's feet and beg for her forgiveness, swear to kill the girl right now if Drusilla would only take him back, but his pride wouldn't allow it. It was pride that had driven him to claim the girl, and it was pride that kept him in check now. Drusilla and Angelus had pushed him around for long enough, and claiming the girl had been getting a little of his own back. He shrugged off his coat, picking Buffy up off the floor and wrapping her in the cool leather. Somewhere in it all, she'd lost consciousness, and he carried her out of the mansion.

Angelus had to admit that hadn't gone quite the way he planned, but it had still been quite amusing. That bleached moron Dru had sired apparently had no idea why claims—once the standard practice in vampiric relationships—were practically non-existent today. And to claim a human… Angelus shook his head, almost wished he could let them stick around just to watch Spike come completely unglued. That would certainly be good for a chuckle or two.

He shrugged, deciding he had better things to do anyway. The Slayer was still out there after all, and she provided hours of enjoyment with her pathetic internal war between her love for him and her chosen duty. Maybe he could kill off one of her friends. If killing one of her teachers got such a reaction out of her…

Although at the moment, he had some excess tension to work off and Spike had so rudely run away with his new plaything. He wrapped his arm around Drusilla. "Come on, Dru."

Drusilla whined. "He left with her, Daddy." She reached up, pulling her hair. "He was mine. I made him for me, not to play with the sunshine." She stamped her foot, whimpering like a small child. Angelus sighed, deciding he was going to have to gag her for the night as he threw Drusilla over his shoulder and walked towards the bedroom.

*** *** ***

Willow came running down the stairs, her eyes wide and full of panic as she yelled, "Nancy! Giles! Buffy's gone! She's gone!"

Giles jumped to his feet from the table where he'd been going over the monthly bills. "What?"

"Buffy's gone," Willow repeated, stopping at the other end of the table. "I went up to check on her, and she wasn't there. The window was open—I think she climbed out. She said she'd stay in tonight. I didn't think she'd actually be crazy enough to go after Spike again this soon after she almost died."

"Bloody hell," Giles muttered. "What was she thinking?"

"She couldn't have gotten far," Nancy said, already headed towards the door. "She's too weak."

Giles and Willow exchanged a look before following Nancy outside. They stopped when they saw her standing beside the tree in the front yard, a red rose in her hand. "Angelus," Nancy said.

Willow gasped. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Nancy replied with a nod. "He keeps leaving these around, making sure I know it's him." She threw the rose to the ground in disgust, then turned to her Watcher, seeing the stricken look on his face. "I'll find her, Giles," she said before taking off in a run.

Willow put her hand on Giles's arm. "Come on. Let's go back inside and I'll make you some tea."

"I need to look for her. I have to find her. Angelus has her. Joyce wouldn't like it…"

"Nancy will find her, Giles," Willow said, hoping she sounded convincing. "But we need to go inside now. Neither one of is armed, and it's not safe out here."

Giles looked at Willow, then blinked, as if suddenly realizing where he was. With a resigned sign, he walked with her into the house.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 8:

Buffy groaned, surprised to find herself waking up in another strange place—or at all, really. She'd figured when she'd been at the mercy of three vampires that her life was at its end. However, she was in a bed now, though she doubted that meant she was actually safe. She tried to move her wrist, only to remember that it had been broken. But she was unchained, and she struggled to get up despite how weak she felt.

"Stay put."

The forceful words were accompanied by a tug at her whole body, and Buffy felt useless to do anything but comply. She turned over to see Spike sitting on the edge of the bed, glaring at her.

"What…what happened?" Buffy asked weakly.

"He made me claim you. Tried to…wouldn't let him do it again. He took Drusilla. You're mine."

Buffy frowned, his words not making sense to her. "I'm not yours," she said, though even as she spoke, something inside of her rebelled against the words.

"You are mine," Spike said coldly. "I gave you my mark, and I said the word. You're mine." His demeanor changed suddenly when he jumped to his feet, roaring as he ripped a light fixture from the wall and threw it against the door to the hotel room they were in. Buffy clutched the sheet that was draped over her more tightly around her, her eyes widening in fear.

"It's all your bloody fault!" Spike yelled, turning on her. "Couldn't let him take you, too. Had to have my sodding pride."

Someone banged on the wall next door, earning them a loud "Fuck off" for their troubles. Spike's eyes flickered with yellow as he set them on Buffy. "She said she hates me, and it's all because of you. You had to show up with whatever vendetta it is you have and make my dark princess hate me."

Despite her weakened state, Buffy felt herself working up a little righteous indignation. This night had seen her kidnapped, nearly raped, and bitten by a vampire—again—and it was somehow all her fault? "Excuse me? You're the one who insisted on doing whatever it is you did to me. And if by 'dark princess' you mean that nutbag vamp who helped snag me tonight, then you're better off."

Spike snarled, smacking her hard across the face. The blow drew fresh blood, and his demon came roaring forward at the scent. The loss of his sire's affections meant less to the demon than it did to the man. This girl was his. She wore his mark, not the other way around as it had been with Drusilla. Her blood was that of his demon's mate, and it inflamed him, begging him to take what was his, and he was on her in an instant, sucking her lip into his mouth and groaning at her taste.

Buffy knew she shouldn't be letting this happen again. Once had been too much, and she was still weak and sore from everything she'd been through in the past couple of days. But her body was hit with such an overwhelming rush of lust that she couldn't help her reaction. The marks on her neck tingled as she reached for Spike, tugging at his clothes. She cried out in loss when he pulled away, only to relax when she realized he was just undressing.

Spike was soon under the sheet with her, sliding inside her warmth again. Although the pain was less than it had been the previous time, it was still there. However, Buffy didn't care, the intense desire she felt outweighing anything else. She clung to him, the outside world melting away. All she knew was white hot desire and the need for his cool body to quench it.

She anticipated his bite before she felt it, and Buffy arched into his fangs. She felt her blood being pulled into his mouth, and she wanted it, wanted that connection with him. She needed it to feel complete. She saw his neck so close to her own mouth, and she couldn't resist the urge to taste him, to break his pale white skin with her teeth.

Spike's eyes widened at the first feel of her teeth in his neck. When she began to pull on his blood, his hips bucked harder, his eyes rolling up to the back of his head.

They broke apart as they came together, crying out their mutual pleasure. Spike trembled and collapsed against her, his demon feeling more at peace than he ever remembered it being before. He licked the marks he'd made on her neck and murmured, "Mine."

Buffy's eyes were already drifting shut, exhaustion catching up with her. She felt a jolt go through her as he licked her wounds and she leaned up to do the same to his, echoing him as she did.

"Mine."

*** *** ***

When Buffy woke again, she felt better than she had in a long time. All her body's aches and pains seemed to have melted away overnight, and she realized with surprise when she flexed her wrist, that it was no longer broken.

She also had a cool, hard body pressed against her, his arm and leg pinning her to the bed. Her eyes widened as she tried to struggle to get free, only to find that while Spike may have been still sleeping, her movements were definitely waking up a certain part of his anatomy.

Buffy grew still, taking a deep breath. How had she gotten into this? How had she ended up sharing a bed with her mother's killer? She'd willingly let him into her body twice now, and as she felt him growing hard against her backside, she knew she would again.

She remembered how strong her lust had been the night before, although everything after it hit was hazy. All she remembered was intense need followed by incredible pleasure. She'd had no control over herself, the overwhelming desire seeming to come from someplace else, a force taking her over.

She gasped when she felt Spike pull her to him, lifting her leg over his so he could slide in from behind. She tried to pull away, but he held her in place, his tongue moving over the marks on her neck until she moaned, arching back into him.

Buffy felt the same sort of lust she'd experienced the night before, only a weaker version now, not as overpowering. Spike was sliding in and out of her, slowly licking and sucking her neck without breaking the skin. The touch there was gentle, but it was sending shocks straight to her clit, making her arch back against him until she came with a strangled cry, Spike's own orgasm following shortly afterwards. He quickly fell asleep again, and Buffy wondered if he'd even been fully awake in the first place. The only change she noticed in him now was a soft rumbling from his chest that sounded suspiciously like purring.

Buffy thought to herself that a purring vampire was the lamest thing she'd ever heard of as the gentle sound and vibrations lulled her back to sleep.

It was much later in the day when she woke the next time, and she was feeling decidedly less comfortable than she had before. Her bladder was reminding her that she hadn't emptied it in a while and her stomach was growling. She pulled away from Spike, grateful when he let her go, even though he immediately moved to the spot she'd just vacated, as if still seeking out her warmth.

Buffy used the bathroom, then stopped to look at herself in the mirror after she washed her hands. Despite the small mark on her neck where Spike had bitten her, there was no sign of all she'd been through over the past couple of days. She flexed her wrist, confirming that it really had healed. Had it not been for the vampire still asleep in the next room, she could've almost convinced herself that it had all been a dream.

But it wasn't. She was in a hotel with William the Bloody…and he was sleeping. It wouldn't exactly be the most sporting move she could make, but she knew it would be easy to kill him now. All she needed was something wooden and…

Buffy doubled over in pain, the thought of killing Spike now making her physically ache. She rubbed the marks on her neck, wondering what he had done to her. The fast healing, the lust she couldn't control, and now this… He had done something to her, something to change her.

She turned towards the shower, a sudden awareness of everything that felt caked on to her body. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand it, wishing she could just burn off a layer of skin and make it all go away. She stepped into the stall and grabbed the soap, scrubbing herself vigorously, wanting to wash him off of her and go back to being herself again.

When she got out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a towel, pulling it tightly around her. She walked back into the main room, remembering then that she was without any clothes of her own. Spike's were in a pile beside the bed, but she wouldn't put those on. Instead, she remained wrapped in the towel, sitting in a chair with her knees pulled to her chin.

Spike saw her sitting there when he woke up. He reached slightly towards her for only a moment before letting his arm drop quickly to the bed. "Come back over here."

"No," Buffy replied, hugging her knees tighter. She couldn't let him touch her anymore, couldn't let him keep having that control.

"I said come here."

Buffy felt the marks on her neck tingle, but she stayed put. "And I said no."

"Get in this bed. Now."

The tingle on her neck grew stronger, and Buffy stood, the towel falling to the floor. Spike was on her the moment she was back in the bed, and she surrendered, letting him take her again and again.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat up in the bed, the sheet pulled almost to her chin, as she watched Spike get dressed. "Where are you going?" she asked as he sat down with his back to her and started putting on his boots.

"Find some food," Spike replied.

Buffy's stomach turned. She knew he'd want to touch her again when he came back, and she also knew she'd most likely be powerless to stop him. She thought about him kissing her with fresh blood still on his lips and knew she wouldn't be able to handle that. She stood, letting the sheet fall to the floor as she walked over to him, straddling his lap. She told herself she wasn't doing this because she wanted him or because she was already missing the way it felt when he was inside. She was doing this to save someone's life.

Buffy draped her arms over his shoulders, looking into his eyes. "Why go out when you can eat in?" she asked, punctuating the last word by tilting her head to the side, exposing to him her pulsing jugular.

Spike licked his lips, his eyes zeroing in on her pulse point. He'd spent hours inside of this woman, and already he wanted her again. Regardless, he shook his head, pushing down his desire. "I appreciate the offer, pet, and believe me, I will take you up on it later, but I meant food for you."

Buffy blinked, straightening her head. "Huh?"

"Your stomach was rumbling a bit ago, so I know you're hungry. Would've thought of it sooner, but it's been a while since I've spent this much time around a human. And I should probably get you some clothes, too. As gorgeous as that body of yours is, I don't fancy sharing it with the rest of the world, and we can't stay in this hotel forever."

Buffy slipped off his lap and to her feet, frowning in confusion. "So you're going to get me dinner?"

"And clothes," Spike added. He shrugged. "You might as well write down whatever girly stuff you need. I'll pick that up while I'm out, too."

Buffy tried to reconcile the man sitting beside her now asking for a shopping list and the vampire she'd spent the day with. She couldn't. "Um, okay. Just give me a minute," she said, getting up and finding a pad and a pen.

"Be specific. Brand names and whatnot," Spike told her. "Don't want to have to spend all night sniffing shampoo trying to find the right scent."

Buffy gave him a sideways glance at that, but did what he asked. When she'd finished, Spike took the list from her and started towards the door. He stopped right before leaving, turning back towards her. "If you run off, I will hunt you down and make you very, very sorry." He left then, locking the door behind him.

Buffy sat down on the bed again, knowing she had nothing to do but wait for Spike to come back.

*** *** ***

Spike was trying not to think as he walked down the aisles of the store throwing the things from Buffy's list into a basket, but he couldn't seem to help it. Too much had happened for his mind to stay quiet. Despite how enjoyable he'd been finding the young blonde's body, claming her as his mate had not been on the agenda. And last night when the chit had actually claimed him back, it had only strengthened those bonds. He doubted she had any clue what she'd done, that it had most likely been his demon guiding her to complete the claim, but that didn't matter. Blood was shared, words were spoken. The claim was complete.

Away from the girl now and the hold she had on him, Spike felt his anger towards her rising again. This was all her fault. She'd hunted him down in the first place. If she'd only stayed away, he could be with Drusilla now instead of having to bear the sting of his sire's rejection when he'd claimed another woman.

The fact that Drusilla had more or less rejected him already in favor of Angelus didn't seem to have any place in his internal rant.

He'd gotten a little of his own back where Angelus was concerned, but at what cost? Being saddled with a human mate and losing Drusilla forever? Had that actually been worth it?

But what he'd done couldn't be undone. Claiming bonds were permanent—not even the strongest magicks could be used to successfully break them. Although on the bright side, the chit seemed rather stupid, running into dark alleys to take on master vampires the way she did. Maybe she'd soon get herself killed.

Spike pushed down the roar of his demon at the thought of anything happening to its mate. He didn't actually care about the girl. His heart belonged forever and always to Drusilla. It was just the claim making everything go all wonky, making him think he cared.

He grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the shelf, popping the top open and sniffing it to make sure it was the right one before closing it back and adding it to the basket.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 9:

Buffy was still there, sitting on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chin when Spike came back. She was the very picture of misery, and Spike pushed down the twinge of sympathy he felt for her. It was merely the claim making him react to his mate being upset, nothing more.

Spike put the bags of clothes and toiletries down on the table before handing Buffy a paper fast food bag. "Here. Eat this," he ordered.

Buffy took it from him without hesitation, tearing into the food like the starving girl she was. Spike noticed then just how painfully thin she was. Her ribs protruded from her pale skin, making her look sickly. "Don't eat a lot, do you pet?" he asked.

Buffy looked up, swallowing the bite of food she had in her mouth. "Why do you care?"

"Don't really," Spike answered, shrugging. "Just figured if I'm going to be stuck with a human for a mate, she might as well be healthy enough to provide me with a decent meal now and then."

"I hate you," Buffy said, her eyes narrowed.

"Mutual," Spike replied with a cruel grin.

Buffy glanced at her food before setting it down on the nightstand, her arms now crossed in front of her chest.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Buffy replied.

"Yes you are."

Buffy held up her chin defiantly. "I'm not eating anymore."

"Oh yes, you are," Spike told her, his eyes growing cold. "I had to deal with a moron in a sodding mutant cow/chicken hat for that thing, and you're going to bloody eat it!"

"No," Buffy said, her tone like that of a petulant child.

Spike looked her in the eye for a moment before speaking to her evenly. "Eat your dinner now."

Much to her horror, Buffy found herself reaching over and picking the sandwich up off the nightstand and resuming eating. "How did you do that?" she asked once she'd finished.

"I used the hold my claim has over you," Spike told her.

"Don't do that anymore!" Buffy exclaimed.

Spike chuckled, shaking his head. "Only I can give orders here, ducks. I initiated the claim, which makes you subjugated to me, not the other way around."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't want that."

"I didn't want to get stuck with you, but we don't have much of a choice in this matter anymore."

"We don't have a choice!?" Buffy yelled. "I don't have a choice! You forced this on me, took away my freedom—my free will. All this is happening because of you. You made the claim, so you've made it so we're stuck together. It's all your fault!"

"I was saving you!" Spike yelled back. "Angelus was going to rape and murder you! I didn't want to be stuck with you anymore than you want to be stuck with me, and I certainly didn't want to have to leave Drusilla, but it was the only way to make Angelus get off of you!"

"Why did you even care? You're a vampire. You should've been helping him hurt me."

Spike blinked. It was a good question, one he'd asked himself more than once. He couldn't blame the claim for his reaction then—any more than he could blame it for the fact that he hadn't killed her the first time he'd tasted her. "Because I had you first," Spike replied. "I didn't want Angelus touching you."

"So I what, got stuck in a vampire pissing contest? A game of Who's Got the Biggest Fangs?"

"You're human. You wouldn't understand it," Spike said, brushing her off as she made him question things he'd rather not think about. "Now get up and get dressed. We've still got a good bit of dark left outside, and I want to get as far out of Sunnydale as we can before sunrise."

"We're leaving?" Buffy asked in surprise. She didn’t know why, but the thought of leaving Sunnydale made her uneasy—and not just because it would be with Spike. She hadn't planned on staying long anyway, but now…where would they even go? She found herself suddenly desperate to get back to Giles. What was he thinking now that she hadn't come back to the house on Revello Drive?

"We can't stay here," Spike told her. "It won't be too long until Angelus decides fucking with us sounds like it would be entertaining. He's still all focused on the Slayer now, though, so we shouldn't have to deal with him if we just get out of town. He won't stray far from his latest stalkee." Spike found it hard to believe that he was truly leaving Drusilla behind. Granted, there had been times in the past century that they'd been separated for one reason or another, but never for long or without plans to meet someplace soon. This was real, a true break from his beloved sire. He was setting out now with a new woman by his side.

Spike saw that Buffy hadn't moved since he'd told her they were leaving. "I bloody told you to get dressed!" he yelled, taking his frustration out on the only person he could at the moment. "Do it now before I hurt you."

Buffy jumped up and went over to the clothes, knowing if she didn't do as he said, Spike would use his power over her to make her do it, and she hated that even more than willingly taking orders from him.

Spike watched her dress, pleased with how the clothes he had chosen looked on her. He leered when he saw her put on the tight red top from the bag—his favorite out of the ones he'd purchased—and wondered if the claim was nudging her to dress to please him. Her nipples were outlined by the thin material, and Spike shivered, trying to push down his lust since he knew there was time for that later—after they'd put space between them and Angelus.

Buffy looked up at him, her pupils slightly dilated, and Spike knew he hadn't kept that latest wave of lust to himself. He could feel his own desire reflected back to him through the claim, made stronger by what Buffy was feeling, too. His body trembled, any worry about repercussions from Angelus replaced by an overwhelming desire for his mate. Spike picked her up, throwing her across the bed, her legs hanging over the side. The need they were both feeling grew as Spike pulled the jeans Buffy had just put on from her body, opening up his own jeans before lifting up her legs and plunging inside of her body.

Spike grit his teeth at the first feel of Buffy surrounding him. He wondered if he'd ever become used to her heat, if the feel of her scorching him would ever seem commonplace.

Somehow, he didn't think so.

Beneath him, Buffy panted and moaned, pushing her hips up to bring him in deeper. Spike leaned down, resting on his hands now braced on the bed. He continued to pump in and out quickly, desperate for release. He could feel Buffy clinging to him as he took her, heard her beg for more, and he wondered if she was even aware of it. As much as she claimed to hate him, it was clear just how much she loved this, and Spike reveled in her enthusiasm. He knew plenty of vampires, like Angelus, who thrilled at the prospect of an unwilling woman, but Spike preferred a lover who was responsive.

Buffy screamed loudly when she came, her inner muscles clamping down hard on Spike as they spasmed. He emptied himself inside of her with a groan, stars busting behind his tightly closed eyes.

Spike lowered himself down on top of Buffy's body, nuzzling against his marks on her neck. The demon inside of him felt more content than Spike could remember it being before, satisfied in the arms of its mate. Spike supposed he could be fairly content with the girl as well, were it not for his dark princess. As far as humans went, she was tolerable, even when she was being—overly feisty. But he'd given his heart to Drusilla, and nothing was going to change that, not even now that he was mated to…

Spike stopped short, realizing he had no clue what this girl's name was. He looked up at her face. "Pet?"

Her eyes opened drowsily, her arms still around him even now that they'd finished. She looked content like the demon, and Spike wondered whose emotions she was feeling, hers or its. "Hmm?" she asked him softly.

"What's your name?"

She looked at him in surprise for a moment before she started to laugh. "I've done that with you so many times I've already lost count, yet I haven't even told you my name. I'm such a slut."

Spike chuckled. "Nah. It's just the effect of my sinister attraction. Made your brain go all wonky, it did."

"You wish," Buffy said, rolling her eyes, though there was a slight smile forming at the corner of her mouth. "And my name's Buffy."

"Buffy? Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," Buffy replied with a frown. "Why do people always ask me that when I tell them my name?"

"Because it's a right silly name," Spike said. "I knew someone once who named her poor kid Buffy. I wondered what was wrong with the chit to want to go and do that to a child."

Buffy froze at that. He had to be talking about her mother… And he hadn't just known her—he'd killed her. This monster had killed her mother, and here she was, lying with him as if he were really her lover. She pushed on Spike. "Let me up."

To his surprise, Spike was disappointed by her sudden mood change. He'd been enjoying sharing the afterglow with her. "Pet, I'm sorry. It's a lovely name—really it is."

"I'm not your pet," Buffy snapped. "And just get off of me."

Spike rolled over, allowing Buffy to scramble off the bed. She pulled her jeans back up as she went over to the bags he'd brought from the store and got out the shampoo before starting towards the bathroom.

Spike reached out when she passed him, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?"

"Shower," Buffy said, pulling her arm in a futile attempt to get away.

"We need to leave," Spike said. "We don't have time for you to shower."

"We had time for you to fuck me," Buffy retorted. "Besides, I'm all covered in your…stuff. If I'm going to have to be stuck in a car for a while, I at least want to be clean."

Spike thought for a moment. Her scent drove him crazy enough when it didn't have his mixed with it. Being in close quarters with her when she smelled like she did now would drive him completely out of his mind. They wouldn't get very far tonight at all. "Fine, shower. But be quick about it."

Buffy hurried into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing herself dressed in the clothes he had bought for her. She'd known he'd like the red when she put it on, and now she hated the sight of it on her. She pulled her clothes off angrily, feeling sick to her stomach. Whatever sort of hold he'd put over her, she should be trying harder to resist. She should fight it for the sake of her murdered mother.

Buffy reached up, her fingers grazing over the dark red marks on her neck. She'd sworn to kill William the Bloody, yet here she was nourishing him. It was disgusting. Staying with him made her just as much a monster as he was. She turned away from her reflection, unable to face what he was making of her. Her mother would be horrified of what she was now, ashamed of the way Buffy causally laid in the arms of a vampire until he reminded her of what he had done.

She wouldn't forget again. Some stupid claim—whatever the hell that was—didn't dictate who she was. She'd just have to fight harder, resist its pull. The vampire could think whatever he wanted, but she was not his.

Buffy turned on the shower and stepped into the stall, glad to be washing him off of her. She felt covered in him, and she hated it, desperate to feel like herself again. After bathing and washing her hair, Buffy stepped back out of the shower and dried off with a hotel towel. She looked over at the clothes Spike had given her, hating the thought of having to put them back on, but knowing she didn't have much of a choice. The only clothes she had were ones he'd bought, and since she really didn't want to be naked around him anymore, she'd have to make this one concession. She could work something else out later.

Spike was sitting on the edge of the bed when she left the bathroom. The gel that usually slicked back his hair was long gone thanks to her busy fingers when they had sex. He looked very appealing sitting there on sheets they'd rumpled with their entwined bodies, and Buffy felt a flash of lust before remembering to push it down. She didn't want Spike. It was simply the claim making her think she wanted Spike. Some freaky vampire thing. The fact that she'd willingly had sex with him before the claim was made was inconsequential.

Spike looked up at her, his eyes dark, and Buffy somehow knew it was her lust he was feeling, that he'd caught her momentary flare of desire. It was then that she knew exactly why she kept being overwhelmed with want for him when only moments before she'd wanted nothing to do with him. He was pushing his own lust on to her, making her so desperate that she would succumb to him without a thought to how wrong it was. That realization both relieved and revolted her. She was glad that she wasn't as sick as she'd thought, that her ongoing desire for her mother's killer was not because of what she really felt but because of something he was doing to her. Yet she also felt sick to know he kept taking advantage of her in such a way. Clearly he knew he could push her into a forced sense of desperation in order to take his perverted pleasure in her body, and had been doing so ever since the beginning. Buffy came to the decision that that was another thing she wasn't going to bend to anymore. He could try to force all the lust on to her that he wanted to, she could be strong. She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Spike.

The emotions rolling off of Buffy now were like a rush of cold water to Spike. He'd been planning where they were going to go when Buffy had walked into the room, disrupting his train of thought with her rush of desire. But then she'd shut it off as quickly as she'd felt it, and the emotions she was sending through the claim now were cold. He shook his head, trying to push out her rather unsettling hostility. "You all ready then?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Spike replied, standing up. "Get your stuff and follow me to the car."

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 10:

I'm on a submarine mission for you baby
I feel the way you were going
I picked you up on my TV screen
I feel your undercurrent flowing

Submission going down down
Dragging me down submission
I can't tell ya what I've found

You've got me pretty deep baby
I can't figure out your watery love
I gotta solve your mystery
You're sitting it out in heaven above

"This music sucks. He can't even sing!"

Spike shot Buffy a quick dirty look from the driver's side of his car. "You're just too young to know good music when you hear it. And stop insulting Johnny Rotten."

"Rotten is right," Buffy muttered.

"Do you want to ride the rest of the way in the trunk? Besides, the 'rotten' was a reference to his teeth, not his singing ability."

"Oh, ew." Buffy leaned forward, her hand on the radio. "I don't want to hear this."

Spike slapped her hand away. "Too sodding bad. Stay over there on your side."

Buffy moved back, pouting as she rubbed her now sore hand. "Can't we just listen to something else for a little while?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

"That's a crappy reason."

"Well, then, because I'm the one who's driving."

"So let me drive."

Spike glanced over at her, eyebrow cocked. "Do you even have a license?"

"No. But I bet you don't either. Vampires don't even show up on film."

"Yes we do," Spike said. "That just came from Twentieth Century film makers trying to extend the whole bit with the mirror. And when I learned to drive, you didn't need a license, so sit over there and shut your gob."

Buffy sighed heavily, pouting again for a few minutes before blurting out, "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Didn't you go before we left the motel?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't have to go then."

Spike sighed, glancing down at the gas gage. He probably could use a stop to fill the tank since the last thing he wanted was to get stranded wherever the hell they were. "Fine. We'll stop at the next gas station."

Buffy didn't say anything after that, and Spike assumed she was placated—at least for the time being. He turned off the highway at the next exit and pulled into a gas station. He parked at one of the pumps and turned off the DeSoto's engine before reaching into his duster pocket and pulling out a wad of bills. "Pay for the gas after you're finished in the loo," he said as put the money in Buffy's hand. "And get whatever else you might need in there, too."

Buffy looked down at the cash. "You actually use money? I pegged you for more of an 'I want it, I take it' kinda guy."

"I only use it when I don't feel like calling any attention to myself. And it's not like it's my money anyway."

Buffy tried not to think about the most obvious place for that money to come from—off the body of one of his victims. "Oh."

"Hurry up then. We've only got a few more hours left until dawn."

Buffy got out of the car and walked towards the gas station, happy to be at least stretching her legs. She used the bathroom first then went over to the snack food, getting a few things since she didn't know when Spike would feed her again.

She looked over towards the counter, noticing the clerk and the way he was watching her every move. At first she thought he was expecting her to steal something until she realized his eyes were directed towards on her chest. She shifted uncomfortably, cursing Spike and his trashy taste in clothes.

Deciding to do something about it, Buffy surveyed the small store, smiling when she saw a display of California souvenirs. She picked out a bright pink sweatshirt, smirking at how horribly ugly it was. On the front was the flag of California with the bear done in furry brown fabric, and beneath that the state's name was printed in three-dimensional paisley letters. It was possibly one of the most hideous articles of clothing she'd ever seen, and she draped it over her arm as she walked over to the counter.

"And the gas for the DeSoto at pump four," she told the clerk, putting the food and the sweatshirt on the counter. The clerk gave her another look-over, but when he saw her face and caught her glaring at him, he quickly turned his attention to handling the sale.

Once she had paid, Buffy ripped the tags off of the sweatshirt, putting it on before picking her bag and the change off the counter. Spike was leaning against the car when she came out, and she put what she had left of the money in his pale had. It had been bad enough spending that blood money. She didn't want to keep the rest of it with her.

"What the hell is with that shirt?" Spike asked, scarred eyebrow raised.

Buffy stuck her chin out with defiance. "I'm cold. The heater doesn't work in your stupid car."

"It's hideous. Take it off."

"No. I'm cold."

Spike sighed. "If you're cold, I'll give you my coat—just take that thing off. It's hurting my eyes."

"I don't care if it hurts your eyes, and I'm not wearing that coat," Buffy said. "Who knows where that ratty old thing came from."

"'S not ratty," Spike said defensively. "And I pulled it off the body of a dead Slayer."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, her expression growing completely cold. "I hate you."

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Get in the bloody car."

Buffy glared at him before turning around and marching over to the passenger's side of the car, slamming the door behind her as she got in. Spike sighed as he got in as well, wondering for the millionth time why he'd let himself get into this mess.

*** *** ***

Buffy had fallen asleep by the time Spike stopped at another motel for the day. After getting a room, he parked the DeSoto near their door, bringing the few things Buffy had in before getting her, lifting her out of the car and carrying her in to the bed. He took her shoes off, then brought the covers up around her, tucking her in. She murmured softly in her sleep before settling down, curling up on her side.

Spike smiled tenderly, pushing Buffy's hair away from her face. She was a beautiful little thing, especially when she wasn't glaring at him or threatening his unlife. If he could just get her to stop being so bloody defiant and simply realize she belonged to him now, then maybe this wouldn't be so bad. The sex was incredible, after all.

At the mere thought of that, Spike felt himself harden instantly in his jeans. He stripped off his clothes before joining her in the bed, pulling Buffy into his arms. She muttered slightly in protest, her eyes still closed, but when he opened up her jeans and found her clit with his fingers, she began to moan.

When Spike looked at her face again, Buffy's eyes were open, though slightly glassy. Spike pulled off both her sweatshirt and the red top under it, leaving her chest bare. He ran his hands down her ribcage, feeling the bones against his skin. "Need to get you fed more, pet," he said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against her side. "Need to get you healthy."

Spike realized as he touched her then how little time he'd taken to explore her body. Every time between them had been quick and desperate, fueled by a need greater than either of them. He cupped his hand around one of her breasts, flicking the nipple back and forth with his thumb. Buffy arched into his hand, moaning at the touch, begging through ragged breaths for more. Spike leaned down and took the pert nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. Buffy tangled her fingers in his platinum blond hair, holding him to her chest. Spike contented himself with her breast for a while, loving the throaty groans she was making and the way she was thrusting herself against him.

When the scent of her arousal became too much for him, Spike's fangs elongated, piercing her breast and allowing him to suck her blood into his mouth. Buffy cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, her whole body spasming with the force of her orgasm.

Knowing that it was the feel of his fangs inside of her that had made his mate come, Spike couldn't hold himself back any longer. He pulled her jeans down her legs, revealing the rest of her body to his heated gaze. Buffy's legs immediately went around his waist and she grabbed on to his shoulders, pulling him closer. "Inside me, please…" she begged, panting. "I'm so empty. Need to be…need to be full."

Spike pushed himself inside of her, filling her as she had asked, making Buffy arch off the bed as he did. He leaned down, licking a trail up her neck to her ear. "Like that, luv?"

"Yes…oh yes…Spike…"

Spike trembled at how his name sounded coming from her lips. She'd said it so few times and never when she was like this. He sped up his thrusts, desperate to be inside of her again as soon as he pulled out. It turned him on so much to see her like this, to know she wanted him like he wanted her. In that moment, he could admit to himself that it was more than the claim that fueled his desire, that he was attracted to her. She was a hot little thing—both literally and figuratively—and having her in his bed was the definite upside to the situation he'd found himself in.

He didn't love her—Spike held on to his conviction that Drusilla was the only woman he could ever love—but he wanted her. And the way Buffy was responding to him now could only mean that she wanted him just as much.

Spike brought his mouth to her neck again, licking and sucking on the marks he'd made there. Buffy's movements grew more enthusiastic as he did, her nails digging into his skin to score his back. Suddenly, she leaned up, taking his neck into her mouth and biting hard enough to draw blood. Spike lost all control then, his demon roaring to the fore as his hips slammed Buffy into the mattress when he came.

Spike figured he must've blacked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, he was on his back with Buffy nestled at his side, asleep. He pulled the sheets back around them, then leaned over to press a soft kiss into her hair. She nuzzled against him, and Spike began to purr. Usually, that response embarrassed him, but now he didn't mind it as much. His demon was content with its mate, and Spike had decided to give into that for the time being. This felt nice—peaceful.

He closed his eyes, holding Buffy against him as he slept.

*** *** ***

Spike was awakened suddenly by Buffy scrambling to get away from him. She pulled the sheet up over her body, glancing between the two of them in horror. "What's your problem?" Spike asked, scratching his chest.

"You—you're my problem! You…took advantage of me again!"

"Took advantage?" Spike sat up. "And how exactly did I do that? You bloody asked me for it last night. You wanted me."

"No," Buffy snapped, holding her hand up between them. "I never wanted you. You disgust me. The only reason I've ever touched you is because you've been taking away my free will with your damn claim!"

"I've never done that for sex," Spike replied, obviously offended. "Your free will has been very much in place every time we've shagged, so don't even try to say otherwise. Besides, the first time, there was no claim."

"You forced yourself on me then!"

"I did not!" Spike stopped. "Okay, yeah, maybe I did, but you still liked it."

"You're sick. I can feel you forcing your lust on me, making me all…crazed," Buffy accused.

"That's not when you're crazed," Spike said. "And I'm not forcing my lust on you. You're going to feel it through the claim, yeah. Our emotions are linked now. But your own lust is right there with mine. I can feel it."

"The only lust I feel for you is the lust you make me feel by forcing your lust on me!"

Spike frowned for a second as he tried to make sense of that sentence. When he thought he had it sorted out, he said, "That isn't how it works."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not. Just face it Buffy—you want me."

Buffy shook her head. "No. I hate you."

"You may hate me, baby, but that doesn't mean you don't want me." To emphasize his point, Spike pulled her into his lap, kissing her hard until she responded, her body molding itself against his. When he finally broke away, Spike smirked at her. "Told you you wanted me."

Buffy stared at him, her expression one of horror before it changed to anger. Spike expected some sort of verbal response, but instead she reared back and punched him in the nose.

"Bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed, clutching his wounded nose as Buffy got off the bed. "That fucking hurt!"

"I don't want you," Buffy ground out, pulling the sheet off of the bed and wrapping it around her. "You're an evil, disgusting thing." She stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Spike wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Bloody women."

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 11:

Buffy sat on the edge of the sink, the sheet still gathered tightly around her body as she took slow, deep breaths. How could she have slept with him again? She made up her mind not to let him touch her, yet her resolution hadn't even until the next sunrise.

Spike had caught her with her guard down. Buffy had been asleep when he'd started trying to seduce her, and by the time she had woken up, he'd already made it past her defenses. He'd exploited her in a moment of weakness.

That had been a situation Buffy hadn't accounted for, and now that she realized it was possible, she didn't know what to do about it. She couldn't just not sleep. And even if she waited for him to fall asleep first, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't wake up before her and get her then.

She wished she could leave. She couldn't stand being there knowing that she was at the mercy of a vampire—but she couldn't get away. She'd thought about it over and over when he'd gone out to shop. He'd left her alone, making an escape so seemingly easy, but she hadn't been able to make it to the door. Every time she had started to, something inside of her had prevented her from moving, telling her she needed to stay there with him. Whatever it was he had done to her, it had truly tied her to him, making it impossible for her to escape. Even though she hated it, she knew deep down that she was his now.

With a resigned sigh, Buffy dropped the sheet and stepped into the shower.

*** *** ***

When Buffy went back into the bedroom, Spike was asleep again. She got dressed, putting the sweatshirt she'd bought the night before over another skimpy top Spike had gotten for her. She sat down at the table, pulling her knees to her chin. She was restless, the small confines of the room too much for her.

Buffy stood again, walking to the window. She peeked out of the curtains, careful not to let any of the sunlight hit Spike. Her eyes focused on a payphone across the parking lot for a moment before she turned to look back at Spike, making sure he was indeed still asleep. She went over to his duster and searched in the pocket for loose change, pulling out what she found and grasping her hand tightly around it. Buffy left the room quietly, careful not to slam the door. She broke into a run as soon as she was out, not stopping until she reached the sun-covered payphone.

She had only heard the number once, but she'd remembered it, knowing it might be important to her at some point. She dropped her change in before dialing, listening to the rings until they stopped and she heard the already-familiar British voice on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Giles. It's Buffy."

Relief was evident in Giles's voice. "Buffy! You're…I thought you were…Angelus…"

"I'm fine, Giles. I…I wanted to let you know that."

"I'm so relieved to hear your voice. I've been terribly worried, Buffy. Nancy wasn't able to find you, and we'd believed you lost to Angelus."

"He had me. I got away."

Giles paused for a moment before asking, "How?"

"It's…it's a long story. But I'm alive," Buffy replied.

"Are you really all right? Where are you?"

"I'm not sure where I am," Buffy admitted. "But I am okay. You don't have to worry about me."

"Buffy, I…"

"I'm fine, really," Buffy said, cutting Giles off. "I just thought you'd want to know that. And thank you…for being so nice to me. I think if things had been different, you would've made a really good dad." Buffy hung up the phone before Giles could say anything else, tears forming in her eyes. Before, she'd never really allowed herself to think about what her life would have been like if her mother hadn't died, but at the moment she couldn't help it. Would her mother have married Giles? Would they have been a family? Would she have been happy?

There were too many questions without answers, and Buffy shook her head, wiping roughly at her tears. It didn't matter, didn't help her at all to think like that. The past had happened the way it had, and no amount of wishful thinking could ever change that.

She walked back into the motel room only to have Spike grab her the instant she was inside, slamming her against the wall. "What the hell were you thinking?" he growled.

Buffy's eyes grew wide in fear. She hadn't seen Spike this angry at her before, even the first night when she'd insulted Drusilla. Had he managed to peak out the window and see her on the phone? She hadn't thought she was doing anything too bad, especially since she hadn't give Giles any details about what had happened with Spike or their whereabouts. "I didn't do anything!" Buffy insisted.

"Didn't do anything!" Spike yelled, shaking her. "You went out into the sunlight!"

"I can do that!" Buffy yelled back. "I'm not a vampire!"

"No, but I am!" Spike moved his hands from her arms, placing them on either side of her face instead. "If something were to happen to you while you were outside during the day, I couldn't help you. I couldn't protect you."

Buffy froze, unsure of how to respond. Spike had gotten this upset because he was worried about her? That couldn't be right. Vampires didn't really care about anyone but themselves. She decided to respond to this the same way she did to pretty much everything else when it came to Spike—with anger. "You're the last person I need protecting me," Buffy said, pushing him away. "It's all your fault that my life is the way it is anyway."

Spike paused at that, his anger taking a backseat to confusion. "What, because of the claim?"

"No. You ruined my life years ago." Buffy started to move away from him, but Spike reached out and grabbed her arm.

"What does that mean? Don't be so bleedin' cryptic all the time."

"Just get away from me!" Buffy yelled, struggling to break free of his grip again. "I hate you!"

Spike pushed her back against the wall, gripping both of her arms with bruising force. "Tell me. Tell me what I did to you!"

"You killed my mother!" Buffy screamed at him, her body shaking and tears stinging her eyes.

Spike blinked, his grip on her loosening slightly though he didn't let her go. He still didn't remember her from any time before the alley behind the Bronze, and he wasn't sure what she was talking about. "I've killed a lot of people's mothers. You're going to have to be more specific."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "You'd remember this one—she was a Slayer."

"Don't think so, pet. You don't have quite the right skin tone to be the child of either of the Slayers I've killed—not to mention that you're too young, so…" Spike stopped, realization hitting him so smack in the face that he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. "You're Joyce's daughter."

"Remember her now?" Buffy sneered, twisting in his grip.

"Buffy, listen to me—I didn't kill your mum. I'm not saying I didn't try, but we made a deal, Joyce and me. I left town."

"You're lying! I saw you with her that night! She left with you and she never came home!" Angry tears ran down Buffy's cheeks now, and she cursed herself for never being able to keep from showing her emotions in front of him.

For his part, Spike didn't have to see what was written on her face to know what Buffy was feeling. Her anguish and loss poured through the claim, the force of it making him almost double over in pain. He picked Buffy up, carrying her over to the edge of the bed and sitting there with her cradled in his arms. She made so much more sense to him now, as he finally understood not only why she'd been so desperate to kill him, but also why she'd reacted the way she had when it came to having sex with him. She wasn't just lashing out at him because he was a vampire—she was disgusted with herself for sleeping with the man she thought had killed her mother.

"It wasn't me, pet," he said softly, stroking her hair. "Joyce was alive and well when I left her that night. I promise you that."

"No. You're lying. A vampire killed her, and I know it was you."

Spike cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up so he was looking into her eyes. "I'm not lying, sweetheart. Can't you feel that? I didn't kill your mum. I came to her that night because there was this demon that was planning on using Dru in some crazy ritual that would end the world. He needed the dust of a vampire with second sight. I knew I couldn't take him down myself, so I went to Joyce and made a deal with her, knowing she'd want the bugger gone, too. She agreed to help me save Drusilla if I agreed to leave L.A. for good. She held up her end of the bargain and I held up mine. If she died that night, it was someone after me that did the killing."

His story made Buffy feel conflicted yet again. On the one hand, if he was telling the truth that meant she hadn't been sharing a bed with her mother's killer. But on the other hand, it meant that she was back to having no idea who actually had murdered her mother and that she had placed herself in this situation for absolutely nothing. Instead of continuing to search for her mother's killer and getting her revenge she was trapped as the mate of a vampire. She felt helpless, and her tears began to flow more freely, sobs wracking her small body.

Spike pulled her more securely against his chest, running his hands down her back. "It'll be all right, luv. It wasn't me who did it. You don't have to carry that anymore."

Buffy looked up at him, her eyes darkening again. "So what, because you didn't kill my mother what I've done with you is suddenly okay? You're still a murderer. You said yourself only a few minutes ago that you've killed a lot of people's mothers. Hell, you probably killed your own."

Suddenly, Spike was on his feet, dumping Buffy to the ground as he rose, the look on his face one of cold anger. "Don't talk about things you don't know anything about!" Spike roared, making Buffy tremble with the force of his words. "You didn't know her. You weren't there."

"I didn't have to be," Buffy said, holding her head up. "I know what you are. All you do is hurt. You aren't capable of caring about anyone. You're just a thing."

Spike grabbed her off the floor, tossing her with a growl, and Buffy's face hitting the side of the bed hard. Spike advanced on her, but Buffy reached up and pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing the only object in there before turning around and smacking Spike in the face with it as he came after her again.

Spike howled in pain, reaching up to touch the burn mark left on his face by the Bible Buffy wielded. His demon was in the forefront again now and he grabbed Buffy, tossing her on to the mattress.

Buffy jumped to her feet as he came towards her, delivering a punch to the unmarked side of his face. Spike grabbed her arm as she pulled it back, turning her so her back was to his front, her arm pressed between them. Buffy glanced down, seeing the discarded Bible laying beside her feet. She kicked it into the air, catching it with her free hand then using it to hit Spike again. He snarled and grabbed her more securely, his hands like a vice around her arms. Buffy struggled hard against him, causing them both to tumble backwards until they crashed into the dresser.

Both Buffy and Spike were silent for several minutes, Buffy lying on top of Spike in the wreckage of the motel dresser. The anger that had overtaken both of them was dissipating now, their tempers cooling.

Finally, Buffy looked up, meeting eyes that were again blue. "The claim doesn't like me thinking about killing you, but it doesn't seem as opposed to me knocking you around."

"Violence isn't something a demon really wants to discourage in a sexual partner," Spike replied, groaning as he tried to sit up a bit more. "Ow."

"Tell me about it," Buffy muttered, pushing herself completely off of him and sitting back on the floor. She frowned, moving her body from side to side. "Although I'm not in as much pain as I should be. I hit that dresser pretty hard—even with you padding the fall—and nothing's broken." Buffy remembered then how quickly the wrist Angelus had injured had healed as well, and dread welled up inside of her. Needing to know the answer, Buffy asked, "Is…is the claim changing me?"

Spike frowned. "I don't think so. To be honest, I don't really know all the details about how a claim affects a human since the only claims I've ever seen have been between two vampires, but I don't think it's making you a demon if that's what you're trying to ask."

"But I'm healing too quickly, and I'm stronger than before. And…I keep losing control. Like when we have sex, and just now, too. I was so angry and all I wanted was to hurt you, but now I'm over it." She paused for a moment, then amended, "Well, I still hate you, but the violent outburst has been quashed."

"Anger's another emotion, just like lust, pet." Spike explained. "Any time we're both feeling something really strongly, the emotions are going to start feeding each other through the claim, making everything more intense. Guess the fall must've been enough to snap us both out of it."

"So what you're saying is that I was feeling your anger?" Buffy asked.

"No," Spike replied, rising to his feet with a wince. "I'm saying you were feeling our anger. It was so strong because it was the anger of two people combined—just like with the lust."

"That lust is all yours."

Spike sighed. "You just keep telling yourself that, ducks." He walked over to the bed, lying down. "I'm going to catch a little more kip. You try to keep it down, yeah?"

"After all that, you're just going to go sleep?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah," Spike replied, stripping off the clothes he'd put on when he'd woken to find her gone and feared he'd have to make a run outside, sun be damned. "For one thing, it's still the middle of the day—time for vampires to be sleeping. And for another, you wore me out." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Care to join me?"

Buffy glared at him. "No."

"I'm just talking about resting, luv. But if you'd rather stay awake, suit yourself. Just mind the noise." Spike climbed into the bed, shutting his eyes as his head went to the pillow. "Oh, and don't go outside again."

Buffy sighed heavily, flopping down into one of the chairs. Spike's eyes opened then, just long enough for him to say, "Mind the noise, Buffy."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to glare at Spike's still form, though in the end all she could manage was a pout.

*** *** ***

 

Chapter 12:

It had been several hours since Spike had gone back to sleep, and any patience Buffy had had to begin with was long gone. She was restless, too many questions going through her mind for her to be content to stay cooped up in that motel room.

Spike hadn't killed her mother. Hearing that filled her with both relief and dread, as she thought of the uncertainty that revelation brought to her life. If Spike wasn't her mother's killer, then who was? Would she ever find the right vampire and know the peace she was sure she could only get through vengeance?

And there was always the other question, too—what if Spike was lying? He was, after all, evil. That's what evil things did. They lied until everything was so twisted you didn't know what was real anymore. The claim was telling her to trust him, but in turn, she didn't trust the claim. Nothing had been clear since it had been made, everything she'd ever thought turned on its head. Furthermore, she knew the claim was doing something to her, no matter what Spike said to the contrary. She felt different—stronger. She'd been able to hold her own in their earlier fight in a way she knew she wouldn't have been able to before, and she wasn't in nearly the amount of pain she should be in.

But the changes in her weren't just physical. She was behaving in a way that she knew couldn't be normal for a human. She continued to share the bed of a demon, letting him do things to her that she should only regard with disgust. Add to that the fight they'd had earlier that Buffy couldn't classify as anything but abnormal. Her mind had been completely focused on anger, her body primed for a fight, and then it was just…gone. Like Spike had said, they'd seemed to simply "snap out of it."

Then he'd gone to sleep, leaving her alone with the thoughts whirring through her mind. He acted as if this whole thing were nothing more than a slight inconvenience. Her life was in shambles and he was content just to sleep.

"Mind the noise, Buffy," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at the sleeping vampire. Well, she'd had enough of sitting there quietly so he could rest. She kicked the back of her heel against the table leg, making her shoe tap loudly against the wood. Spike didn't even twitch, which Buffy found immensely irritating. Where did he get off making such a big deal about her keeping quiet and then not budging when she made noise?

Buffy got up, walking around the room, making as much noise as possible as she did, banging things against each other, slamming her hands against the walls and furniture, and humming loudly and off-key. Spike didn't so much as move, and Buffy finally gave up. "Guess that's why they call it 'sleeping like the dead,'" she said with a sigh, going back to the chair.

She hadn't been sitting long before she was restless again. She didn't really want to talk to Spike, but at least if he was awake, she'd have some sort of distraction. She got up again and marched over to the bed, reaching out and shaking Spike.

He didn't wake up. Instead, he pulled her down with him before nuzzling up behind her, his erection obvious as it poked into her backside. Buffy grumbled under her breath, trying to get free as he pulled her closer, but Spike wouldn't let her up.

With a sigh, Buffy stilled, hoping it would make him loosen his grip. Instead, Spike nuzzled against her again, keeping her body tightly to his. Buffy resigned herself to staying where she was, giving into that little voice that said there were certainly worse places to be.

"Dru…"

Buffy's eyes widened at the sound of the name Spike said in his sleep. Mustering up all of her strength, she tossed his arm off of her and turned around to punch him in the face.

That did wake him, and Spike sat up, clutching his nose. "Bloody hell! What is with you and punching me in the nose?"

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her, glaring. "You said Dru just now, when you were in bed with me."

"Yeah, well, I was with her for over a century. Sorta used to saying her name. And what were you doing in the bed anyway? I thought you turned down the invitation."

"I didn't want to be there, but then I was trying to wake you up, and you pulled me down!"

"Why were you trying to wake me up?"

"I was bored."

Spike leered at her. "Wanting me to entertain you then?"

"Ew," Buffy replied, making a face of extreme disgust. "No way. Besides, I really don't want you to touch me now after you said her name."

"Jealous, pet?" Spike asked, eyebrow cocked.

"Ugh. No. Soo not jealous. That was just…rude."

"So I hurt your feelings then?"

"Yes. No! No. My feelings are totally unhurt. I don't care enough about you for you to hurt my feelings."

"Whatever you say, princess." Spike's leer returned. "Come on now, kitten. Let's do something about that boredom of yours, yeah?"

"I'd rather be bored," Buffy replied. "And are you just always horny?"

"Pretty much. Besides, you interrupted a rather pleasant dream."

Buffy's expression grew dark. "Yeah, about her. You can't honestly expect me to do anything with you when I know you got hard thinking about another woman."

Spike shrugged. "Doesn't really matter how I got hard—just matters that I am."

Buffy gaped at him for a moment before rearing back and slapping him hard in the face. "You're a pig," she snapped, getting off the bed and storming into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

"Bollocks," Spike said, running his hand through his hair. If there was one thing that drove him up the bloody wall, it was women and their mood swings. And now that he was mated to this one, he could feel all those emotions, making it that much worse. For the first time in his existence, he found himself glad that Dru had never accepted a claim from him. Inside of her mind was not a place he wanted to be.

Surprisingly, the emotions he was feeling coming from Buffy now were not the ones he had expected. She felt…hurt? There was slight anger there, but sadness was the dominant emotion. With a sigh, he got up and went to the bathroom door, telling himself it wasn't because he felt bad for hurting the chit's feelings, but because having to share those feelings was a pain in the arse. He tapped softly on the door. "Buffy?"

"Go away."

Spike sighed, though that was the response he'd been expecting. "Luv, come on. I swear I don't think about her when I'm inside you."

The response was more emphatic the second time. "Go away!"

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"No!"

"Oh, come on now, kitten. I've had lots of naughty dreams about you, too."

"I hate you!"

"You know, I don't know why you're even upset. You keep complaining about me wanting you anyway."

"That's because you make me sick!" Buffy yelled back through the door.

"Well, fine! If that's the way you feel, then I'll just get myself off—thinking about Drusilla."

Before Spike could even move, Buffy had thrown open the door and tackled him to the ground. "You're my mate," she snarled, her eyes flashing.

Her words made Spike's demon rush forward and he growled, grabbing hold of her hips to grind against her. Buffy moved with him for a moment before jumping up to pull off her clothes, stripping as quickly as she could before lowering herself back down on to him, taking him inside of her. She rode Spike hard, her nails scratching down his pale chest to leave red streaks of blood in their wake. "Mine," Buffy said, her voice nearly a growl as she leaned in to lick off the blood she'd drawn, making Spike gasp in pleasure.

"You're not hers anymore," Buffy said, squeezing him tightly with her internal muscles. "She didn't claim you. I claimed you."

"Buffy…yes, baby…I'm yours. I'm all yours."

Buffy sped up the movement of her hips, her gaze locked on Spike's face as his eyes rolled up. "Come for me," she ordered. "Show me what I do to you."

Spike did as she said, his hips coming off the floor as he exploded. Buffy screamed in pleasure, her own orgasm following closely on the heels of his.

Buffy slumped against him, noting absent-mindedly that his breathing was as hard as hers despite the fact that he didn't actually need the air. Spike moved his hands up to her back, caressing her heated skin. "Mmm…I like it when you're wild, kitten."

As suddenly as she'd jumped him, Buffy was off of him, her eyes wide. "What…what did you make me do?"

Spike sat up. "Make you do? You bloody attacked me!"

"Because you did something to me! I'd never act like that!"

"You just did!"

"It's you and this stupid claim! It…it was like I didn't have any real control over myself."

Spike shrugged. "You felt like your position as my mate was being threatened and you snapped. It happens."

"Not to me!' Buffy insisted. "I don't even want to be your mate."

Spike grabbed Buffy's arm, pulling her back down to him. "That doesn't matter, baby," he said, his low voice sending a shiver up Buffy's spine. "All that does matter is that you are."

"No," Buffy said, though her protest sounded weak.

"Oh yes," Spike replied, lowering her down to the floor. He hovered over her, braced on his arms. "I was a bad, rude man to say those things to you, pet. Let me make it up to you."

Buffy's objection died on her lips as Spike moved between her legs, hooking her knees over his shoulders. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when he leaned in and licked her slit, making it so all she could manage was a moan. Spike grunted as he lapped her hungrily, and Buffy arched against him, wondering why he'd waited until now to do this to her. It felt wonderful. She dug her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to her.

Spike grinned at her responsiveness as he added his fingers, pushing three inside of her. He curved them up until Buffy's grip on his hair tightened, her heels digging into his back. "Oh god," she moaned, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. "Right there."

Spike continued the double movements of his tongue and fingers until he felt Buffy right on the brink of release. Knowing exactly how to push her over, Spike began to purr deep in his chest, the vibrations traveling from his body to hers.

Buffy let out a loud keening wail when she climaxed, the force of her orgasm making her entire body buck violently. Spike managed to hold on, bringing her down with gentle licks before pulling away, cleaning her spendings off his fingers and mouth with his tongue.

"Oh my god," Buffy panted, lying limp on the floor as Spike released her legs. "That felt good."

"That was the point, pet," Spike replied, getting to his feet. He picked her up off the floor, depositing her back on the bed before covering her body with his own. "And I know you think it all feels good," he said huskily, nipping at Buffy's earlobe. "I know how you crave me."

Buffy rubbed against him, feeling undeniable lust rise inside of her again. She didn't want to fight it anymore—she wasn't strong enough. Whether it was her or something from the claim didn't matter right then, she just needed Spike inside of her. She pushed her hips up, begging with her body for him to fill her.

"Slow down, baby," Spike rumbled against her skin. "I wanna take it slow this time. Wanna savor you."

Buffy responded with a whimper, writhing beneath him. She couldn't do slow. She needed now. She reached down between their bodies, grasping his cock and guiding it towards her entrance.

Spike grabbed her hand away, pinning it and her other one above her head. "Doesn't seem like you're listening to me, pet. I'm gonna have to do something about that." Keeping her hands together with one of his own, Spike used his free hand to rip off a long piece of the sheet. He pulled her arms taut, using one end of the scrap of cloth to bind her hands and the other end to secure her to the slats of the headboard.

Buffy pulled on her hands, panic hitting her as she realized she couldn't move them. "What are you doing?"

Spike trailed his finger down her cheek. "Shh. Don't you worry, luv. It's just for a bit of fun."

"Spike, I don't…" Buffy's words trailed off into a moan as Spike went down again, latching on to her clit with his mouth. Buffy flexed her hands in her bonds but didn't try to break them, focusing instead on the pleasure Spike was giving her. He kept going until she reached her peak again, her bound arms stretching as she came.

Spike moved slowly up her body, marking his path with a trail of kisses. He stopped when they were face to face, bracing himself on his arms to rise above her. "You're bloody gorgeous," he told her, his voice rough and thick. "Drive me out of my sodding mind, you do."

"Spike…inside me now," Buffy pleaded, wishing she had her hands free so she could push him where she wanted him to be.

Spike gave her a teasing grin. "Me makin' you come twice with my mouth wasn't enough?"

Buffy tossed her head from side to side. "No. Need…need to come with you inside."

Spike knew there was no way he could deny that request. He rested his weight on one arm while he took his cock with his other hand and guided it to Buffy's entrance. He stopped right before sliding in, rubbing her outer lips with the weeping tip of his cock. Buffy moaned, a tremor going through her body as he caressed her clit. "Need more, pet?" Spike asked, his voice low.

"Yes! Fuck me now, Spike!"

Spike growled at her demand, all his control lost at hearing those words from her mouth. He pushed inside, filling her completely. Buffy moaned, wrapping her legs around him to encourage him to move. He did, and soon set a pounding rhythm, all the tenderness from a moment ago now gone.

Buffy made no attempt to resist the effects of the claim, instead letting it wash over her, bind her to her lover. They moved in perfect unison until pleasure crashed over them both, their joint cries of relief filling the room.

Buffy barely felt Spike untie her hands, her eyes already drifting shut. Spike rolled them over, holding Buffy against his chest, and she smiled, giving in to sleep.

*** *** ***

Spike pushed Buffy's hair away from her eyes as he watched her sleep. Despite the fact that he couldn't help but feel like a traitor to Drusilla, he was beginning to think that maybe this claim wasn't so bad after all. Buffy seemed to be accepting it, and Spike was sure that now she knew he didn't kill her mother, she would warm up to him. His unlife would certainly be different from now on, but maybe it would prove to be a good sort of different. You didn't survive as long as he had without being able to deal with change.

The sun had recently set, and Spike found himself acutely aware of the fact that he hadn't really fed in days. He'd taken some blood from Buffy, but he hadn't been willing to take a substantial amount, not wanting to harm his mate. They needed to leave now, put more distance between themselves and Angelus, but Spike knew he wouldn't be at his top form unless he had a hot meal.

He pressed a soft kiss against Buffy's forehead before slipping out of the bed and getting dressed. He hated to leave her, but he didn't sense any danger near by, and if he made do with the motel clerk, he wouldn't be gone long at all.

Glancing back at his sleeping mate one more time, Spike left the room in search of prey.

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