Author: efa

Title: Safe Things ( the title probably won't make sense until the last chapter)

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: I can't think of a clever one this time, so I'll just go with the basics: BtVS belongs to Joss, ME, UPN, etc., etc. (but not me!)

Archive: If you think my story's worth posting elsewhere, I'd be delighted. Just tell me please.

Comments: Chapter 1 of the sequel has arrived! (despite the fact that my review quota was not met) Alright, folks - some feedback is in order.

Now go forth, and read the story:

Buffy dreamed.

She was in an old chateau. She walked from room to room, her vision strangely acute in the dim light. All of her senses were unnaturally clear. She could smell the dust on the furniture and hear the skittering of a mouse in the upstairs wall. The air in the halls was very cold, but her skin was not goosebumped.

She held a bowl in one hand, and the liquid in it sloshed back and forth with her movements. She wore a long, encumbering dress, and took short, graceful steps, almost floating over the floor. She passed through a foyer, a living room, a dining room. She walked up one stairwell, and then another, finding the third floor hallway. She continued walking until she reached the fourth door on the right.

The door opened into a bedroom. Spike lay sleeping on a large canopy bed, crème colored sheets drawn up to his chest, an arm thrown over his face. Buffy drew up to the edge of the bed and grasped the top of the sheet with her thumb and forefinger, dragging it down to Spike's waist and exposing his nude form underneath. She sat beside him and set her bowl on the bedside table. She dipped one sharp nail in, and then brought it over Spike's chest, where a bead of black ink dripped onto his right pectoral. Sound filled her ears, like wind in trees, like hushed voices, urging her onward. She drew one symbol over the male vampire's flesh, then dipped her finger again to draw another beneath it, and another. After sixteen symbols were drawn, she stopped, just above Spike's navel, and the whispers faded from her hearing. Spike's eyes began to flutter open.

"Wake up, my Spike. Wake up."

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

Buffy snapped awake, sitting up rigidly in her bed. She looked over at her clock. 4:00 AM - too early to be awake, and too late to go back to sleep. She pouted at the injustice. Then she remembered why she'd woken up - slayer dream.

Spike knocked on her door, and then let himself into her room. "Mornin'"

"Morning. Had another slayer dream."

"Yeah? Dreaming about me again?"

"You wish...actually, yes I was. We weren't sharing a dream again, were we?

"Don't know. 'm not sure. I dosed off in front of the telly. Dreamed something about Dru, I think. Don't recall you being there, though."

"Do you dream about her a lot?" Buffy asked, jealously slipping into her tone.

"Vampires rarely dream at all, unless it's prophetic."

"Oh. So what woke you?"

"I don't know. Sounded like I heard someone telling me to wake up. Then I heard you moving around upstairs, so I thought I'd pop in. By the way, your bed really needs new springs. Bloody loud, they are. Maybe that's what woke me up."

"Huh. Actually, I remember telling you to wake up in my dream."

"Oh. Do we inform the watcher, then?"

"I guess." She raised her fists in a mockery of a cheerleader holding pom- poms. "More research. Yay."

Spike chuckled, then hopped onto Buffy's bed, pulling her into his lap and resting his chin on his shoulder. "We can't do anything now. It's Saturday. No one will be awake for another four or five hours."

Buffy smiled. "Hmmm. What could we possibly do for four or five hours?..."

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

Buffy called a Scooby meeting at ten, and a quarter of an hour later everyone met at the Magic Box. Buffy described her dream to the gathering, trying to include as many details as possible. Giles frowned in consternation. "This situation is turning out to be more complicated than I first imagined."

Buffy spoke up. "Well, I can't remember what all the symbols looked like, but I could recognize them if I saw them. Do you have any books with writing like that? Characters?"

"Of course. I'll go fetch them."

Giles disappeared into the back of the store, returning with various volumes. Buffy immediately discarded the first three. The characters simply looked wrong. The fourth was more promising. It was a thin, leather bound book. Under it was a notebook with English translations. It was a book of prophesies, as it turned out. Buffy flipped through the pages methodically, finally finding the symbols from her dream. She showed the page to everyone, and Giles began searching through the notebook for the translation. Before he could find it, though, Spike spoke up.

"Oh, bloody hell. How could I have forgotten." He looked up at Buffy, and began reciting in a sing-song voice: "Hearts break like wine glasses. Red pours out of cracks. It drowns the world; it poisons it with drink."

Buffy shivered. The way Spike had said that was just creepy. "Ok, you're freaking me out Spike. You sounded just like your crazy ho."

Giles had found the translation while Spike was speaking to Buffy. "That's almost exactly what it reads here. Spike, I had no idea you could read Laerlen."

"I don't," Spike answered. "I've never heard of the language. I just remembered...God, how could I have been so bloody stupid! We were in France some eighty years ago, in an old castle. Dru was having a bad spell. She kept yammering on about something. I got sick of listening to her and went to bed, and when I woke up she'd taken ink and painted that crap all over my chest. She kept repeating those words over and over again. 'Hearts break like wine glasses. Red pours out of cracks...'" Spike turned to Buffy. "That's what I dreamt of. I remember now. We were having the same dream after all, Slayer."

There was silence, for a moment, as everyone processed the information. Anya turned to Giles. "Laerlen - that's a fey language, isn't it?"

Giles looked to her. "Why yes, it is."

Spike let out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. "Fey? So the pixies really were talking Dru."

~tbc~

 

 

Part 2:

Buffy shivered in disgust for the fourteenth time that afternoon. "I still can't believe I was Drusilla in my dream."

"Think of it this way, Slayer - at least you weren't Harmony."

Buffy gave Spike a dark look, and then turned to address the rest of the Scoobies. "So...what does it mean?"

Spike sighed. "Well, it seems to be saying the same thing the other prophesy did (see A/N). If our love turns sour the world ends, or some rot like that."

"Well then what was the point of the dream?" asked Anya.

Giles spoke up. "It gives us some idea of our circumstances. Most end of the world situations happen in a fairly brief time frame. This one is a, a century in the making. Spike, you said this took place eighty years ago?"

"Yeah, but we already knew that," said Buffy. "The last prophesy said that it started when Spike died, remember? 'Through death a demon shall be born...'"

Tara waved a tentative hand to get everyone's attention. "M-maybe there's more to it. A-and this was only part of the message."

Buffy picked up the book of prophesies from the table. "There is. In my dream, I stopped at this character," She pointed to one a quarter of the way down the page, "but it looks like this prophesy continues onto the next page. What's the rest of the translation, Giles?"

Giles began once more thumbing through the notebook of translations. "It doesn't appear to be here. Either a page is missing or the rest was simply never translated. Spike, did Drusilla perhaps say anything else about the prophesy?"

"No. Not that I recall. She only talked about the one part."

Giles turned to Buffy. "Do you remember anything else from your dream?"

Buffy frowned. "No. It was weird. It was like I wasn't thinking for myself - just following directions. I remember voices, but I didn't really understand what I was writing. Anyway, the dream stopped right when Spike woke up, before Drusilla said anything to him."

Giles removed his glasses from his face and began to wipe them with a tissue. Xander smiled encouragingly. "Maybe you'll get another dream."

Buffy smiled wanly. "Oh, joy - more quality time as the bitchy-evil schitzo."

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

That night Buffy dreamed again. She was once more poised over spike with ink-stained fingers. She was speaking to him, a lovely limerick. "The pixies whispered it to me, my Spike."

Spike closed his eyes in exasperation. He sighed heavily. "Are you hungry, luv."

"Oh, yes. Bring me something sweet and pretty. And sad, like William was."

Spike growled in distaste at the name before gently rolling her off of him and getting up. She watched his naked form hungrily until he pulled on clothing. He took her hand and drew her up, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ears. "My ripe, wicked plum," he whispered reverently.

The pair exited the chateau, taking a carriage into town. Spike had done up her hair in an elegant coif. The two were dressed in high-quality, fashionable clothing. They walked into a party, where classical music played in the background. She swayed her hips seductively to the beat. Her graceful, sensual motions were shocking to the stuffy, prudish partygoers.

In her dancing she drifted over to a young man who stared at her in rapt attention. She leaned close to him. "Look in my eyes," she murmured against his lips. "Be in me."

His eyes became open and vacant, and in that moment she struck, morphing into a beast and burying her fangs in his throat. She let the corpse drop from her hands and turned to Spike. He was finishing with his own meal. The room was nearly empty, as most of the partygoers had fled, screaming. He turned to her, blood running down his throat and dripping from his fangs, an joyful gleam to his eyes. He savagely tore the heart out of his victim and offered it to her, love and admiration shining in his eyes,

Something in the atmosphere seemed to shift. Buffy brought a hand to her bloodstained lips and looked into her lover's eyes. Spike walked towards her, pulling her hand away from her face and placing the wet organ in it. He then lifted a finger to brush her cheek. Yellow eyes shifted to blue. Vampiric features melted into human.

"I love you Buffy," he whispered, his mouth still stained crimson. He was at once the most terrible and the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Buffy awoke and vomited over the side of her bed.

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

She looked up to see Spike standing at her door looking lost and heartbroken. "Buffy, I..."

"This happened, didn't it? It was another memory."

Spike nodded.

"They don't pull any punches, do they," She whispered, mostly to herself. She addressed Spike. "It's trying to break us apart. Whatever's trying to end the world - it's in my dreams, and it's trying to break us apart. It wants to turn me against you."

Spike only hung his head.

Buffy wiped her mouth, grimacing at the flavor of bile. She stared for a moment at her shaking fingers, then curled them into a fist. "It doesn't matter." She looked up at the vampire once more. "I know what you are, Spike. I still love you."

He stumbled toward her, crawling onto the bed and into her arms. He then buried his face against her breastbone and began to sob.

~tbc~

 

Part 3:
Daybreak found the pair still awake, sitting together on the bed. They had switched positions, to the point that Buffy was draped over Spike, resting her face in the curve of his neck. He was gently stroking his hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture. "It's morning love."

Buffy's voice seemed soft and hollow. "Oh."

"Let's go have breakfast, alright?"

She gripped him hard around the torso and shook her head like a petulant child, all without lifting her face away from his body. Spike laughed softly. "Or, we can always stay here."

It was silent for a moment. Buffy took Spike's hand and entwined her fingers with his. "Let's not tell Giles, today."

Spike nodded. He understood. The dream had been too...private. Truthfully, he doubted the Scoobies could help anyway. It was up to the two of them to survive this trial. Again, the Slayer was forced to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. *Well, at least she's not alone this time.*

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

Spike finally convinced Buffy to release her hold on him and permit him to go downstairs and make breakfast. He stood in the center of the room for long minutes, absorbing the smell of home, detailing each of its flavors - the spices in the cupboard, the grease on the stove, the fruit punch in the fridge, the crumbs on the floor. He wanted to make something elaborate, something that could take his and Buffy's mind off of haunting nightmares, like French toast or eggs benedict. He found a large pan.

Buffy finally emerged from the bedroom, drawn by the smell of food. Spike had made French toast and eggs benedict, as well as sausage, bacon, the works. Syrup was set on the table in a porcelain gravy boat that normally only came out for thanksgiving. Two of the fanciest plates and two sets of the fanciest cutlery were set out as well. Spike had outdone himself. He turned to her as she entered the kitchen, wiping his hands on an apron and smiling abashedly.

"I didn't know you could cook."

Spike looked like he wanted to scuff his foot against the floor. "Been around a while. I've picked up a few things over the few years."

"Oh, yeah? What other hidden talents do you have?"

"I know a few languages. I can cook. I've come up with some pretty inventive torturing methods -" Buffy scrunched her nose in disgust. "- I play the piano. I learned that before I was turned. Oh, and I can crochet. Don't ask."

Buffy grinned and sat down before her plate. Spike dumped one last dirty pan in the sink, threw off the apron, and joined her at the table. He speared a corner of syrup-soaked toast with his fork and offered it up to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around the utensil, closing her eyes in sensual bliss as the sweet confection warmed her tongue. She groaned in pleasure. "Can I keep you?"

"Course love." Spike slipped the fork out of her mouth to impale another breakfast morsel.

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

The day went by quietly. Dawn slept in and came down late for breakfast before running off to a friends house. Buffy searched through the newspapers for a night job so that she could afford college when school started back after the summer vacation and pay the mortgage on her house. Spike offered to chip in. "It will be like we're both paying our share of the rent," he'd said.

Willow came over for a while. She chatted with Buffy, and was surprised to find herself in an engrossing conversation with Spike on history of all things. She left around mid-afternoon. Dinner was eaten. Spike watched television down in the living room, and Buffy went up to bed. Everything happened in its own orderly fashion. Like clockwork.

It was very late when Spike fell asleep. He stayed up for a long hours, flipping through programs on cable, fiddling with the remote, picking at the plush fabric of the sofa. He finally let himself drift off at a quarter to one.

And the dream came.

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

It was nighttime. He stood outside of the high school before the Slayer. He'd just met her a few nights ago at that - what was it called again? - oh, the Bronze. Delicious little piece, she was, rolling her hips to the music, laughing with her friends. And now he would kill her. She'd die beautifully. He could almost taste the power of her blood as he drained her dry. She'd make a lovely shag...

But business must come before pleasure. The two blondes faced off, making idle banter as they sized each other up. Buffy struck first, a low blow to the solar-plexus. Thus the dance began. She spun to kick, her motion as graceful as a pirouette, though far more deadly. A stake materialized in her hand like a magician's trick. She was glorious.

But Spike was creature of the streets and back-alleys. He knew how to fight dirty. This girl was too suburban, and too inexperienced. Oh, not that she wasn't good. She was probably better than the other two Slayers he'd taken. But for all her bluster and banter she was afraid, and that made her vulnerable.

Spike seized her fist as it flew towards his face, and in a lighting fast movement, he twisted her arm painfully around her back. He managed to grab hold of the other and get both limbs pinioned behind her. She was flush against him, trapped, so stunned by the impossible speed of his action that she stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped blinking. The night was terribly still.

No, she wasn't beaten. Not yet. Far from it. In fact, he could smell imminent death coming off the chit in waves. He could feel, with a prickling of hairs along his nape, the gathering strength in her forearms. Any moment now, she would break his hold, kick him to the ground, break his face with the heel of her shoe, and drive that stake still clutched in her hand deep into his chest. Each action would be executed with perfect precision. Like clockwork.

She would kill him with brutal elegance. All she needed was a second. But Spike was a survivor - and he wasn't about to give her the opportunity. He wouldn't give her a second. Because he only needed a half a second to make his move, or a quarter, a sixteenth. Enough. In an instant, he dived toward her neck and plunged his fangs into her throat.

A gasp escaped her, then a sigh, then a shudder. She lifted her arms to his head in an awkward embrace, accepting her fate. Her vision began to gray and fade. The last thing she saw the sharp edge of an axe approaching Spike's upper spine, and she cried his name in warning before blacking out completely.

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

Spike awoke with a start. The dream had been frighteningly real, this time. He had heard the whoosh of the blade as it approached his flesh. He had felt the sting as it came into contact with his skin.

Wait.

Spike reached back with his hand to touch his shoulder blade and found a thin, shallow wound. He brought the hand back in front of him and curled his fingers into a fist to keep them from shaking. There was a coppery flavor in his mouth.

Up the stairs, Buffy lay unconscious in her bed - a red stain running from punctures in her neck.

~tbc~

Part 4:

Spike hurtled up the stairs in a furious panic. Applying the preternatural speed and grace of the undead, Spike seemed almost to glide to Buffy's bedroom. He burst through her door and rushed to the side of her bed, nearly crumbling with relief when he managed to make out a faint heartbeat and shallow breathing from her unconscious form. He could tell that she hadn't lost enough blood to do any permanent harm.

Vampire saliva had healing qualities, and so Spike leaned forward to quickly lick the wound in Buffy's neck closed. Her blood was bittersweet on his tongue. Afraid of sleep, Spike kept silent vigil on his love. Hours seemed to stretch into eons as he waited for her to wake up.

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

Buffy's eyes fluttered open at last around eight in the morning. She tentatively lifted her arm from where it lay on her bed and moved her hand towards Spike's face.

And punched him *hard* in the jaw.

"You bit me! Why you -" A wave of dizziness overcame her, and she suddenly became aware of the stinging sensation near her throat. A look of horror emerged on her face. "But it was just a dream, right? Spike, tell me it was just a dream!"

"..."

"Spike?!"

Spike turned his back to Buffy and drew off his shirt to reveal the thin wound between his shoulder blades. Buffy reached up with a trembling hand to trace the long, shallow cut. It was partially healed, but her fingertips still came away stained a faint brown-red.

She sounded strange, even to her own ears, when she spoke again. "That night...you came to Sunnydale to kill me. We were fighting on the lawn. Mom stopped you with an axe."

Pause.

"She stopped you with an axe. Before you could...before you could try to drain me. You never got the chance to bite me. It was different in the dream, though. I tried to warn you this time, when I saw mom about to hit you with the axe. I still...I still...and you tried to kill me. You tried to kill me."

"Buffy, I love you. You know I wouldn't -"

"But you did!" Her voice began to vibrate with anger. "I still loved you. I still loved you in the dream. I tried to stop mom from hurting you. But all you cared about was killing me. Draining me dry. A God-damned Slayer happy meal on legs!"

"Buffy -"

"Don't touch me!"

"Buffy, love, listen to me. That bite on your neck -"

"Do you really think now is a good time to talk about it?"

"It stings, right? But it sort of tingles at the same time? There's something about it that's different from the other vampire bites you've had, am I right?"

A moment passed. The anger faded from Buffy's gaze, replaced by confusion. "It, it feels sort of like when Angel bit me -" Spike grimaced in distaste. "- but different from when the Master or Dracula -"

"Dracula bit you?"

"Yes. Don't change the subject. Where are you going with this?"

Spike rested his forehead against Buffy's, relieved when she didn't flinch away. "It's a vampire thing, Buffy. It's how we claim a mate. With blood. If I only saw you as a meal and a conquest in the dream, do you think I'd have claimed you?"

Buffy's face lit up with understanding. "But you took so much blood."

"Yeah. I think we can blame the dream for that one. I wasn't completely myself at the time. I certainly didn't stop loving you, though." Spike suddenly grinned stupidly. "You're mine!"

"I'm not yours."

"Yup. You're definitely mine. Got the marks to prove it."

"I'm not some possession, Spike."

"Course not. But you're still mine."

"Well, you're mine too, right?"

"Yeah. I think you'd have to claim me too, though, for it to be official."

"Claim you?"

"Bite me. Drink my blood. Not much, mind you. Make me yours."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"This conversation is turning you on, isn't it?"

"...no..."

"You used to be a better liar.

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

An hour or two later, the pair lay in a mess of tangled sheets. Buffy was grinning. "I feel all...afterglowy." Spike smiled smugly. "I can't believe Angel claimed me and never told me." Spike stopped smiling.

"Sodding ponce."

"Wait. Aren't I still claimed by him?"

The smug smile returned. "Nope. Not if it the claim's rejected."

"How'd I reject it? I didn't even know about it."

"You stopped loving him, pet. Ta da - no more claim."

"Oh. Okay. Well then - we have bigger issues."

"Like what?"

"Oh, let's see. Well, there's that little thing about the axe wound in your back. There's the other little thing about how you managed to drain enough blood from me to knock me unconscious while in your sleep, two rooms and a flight of stairs away. These dreams are getting dangerous, Spike - like physically dangerous. I think we need to tell Giles."

"You're probably right."

"Of course I'm right! I'm scared Spike. You said it yourself - you weren't entirely in control. You could have killed me in that dream. What if...oh, God Spike - what if it had been me who nearly killed you? What if you...I don't think I could...I can't..."

Spike was awe-struck by Buffy's words. *Jesus, Buffy - how can you still love me after all this? I don't deserve you. Not even slightly.* Spike gathered Buffy in his arms and pressed his lips to her forehead in reassurance. "Love, we defeated a god. I think we can handle this."

"Spike, we don't even have a plan."

"Yeah? Well my plans never work anyway. I say we're better of without one."

Buffy chuckled weakly. She then drew Spike's lips to hers in a deep kiss. "Enough with the depressing prophesy talk. I've had enough mood swings today to last me a pregnancy. Now, where were we?"

Pause.

"Afterglowy?"

"Oh yeah..."

~tbc~

Part 5:

"How could you not have told me this earlier?!" Giles yelled. Fatherly concern and anger were etched into his face.

Buffy bent her head in shame. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Giles. We didn't say anything when we realized we were sharing dreams. It was just so...personal. I figured it was something Spike and I should figure out on our own. I still think that. But when I was nearly drained - I figured you should know. I think that whatever trial is coming is in our dreams, or at least it's starting there."

"I think it would be wise if you and Spike spent a bit less time together -"

"No!"

"Buffy, try to be reasonable about this. These dreams are endangering you."

"Do you think they'll stop if we're separated. These are *slayer* dreams, Giles. You can't save me from them." Buffy took some calming breaths. "It's just...I won't leave him Giles. That would feel too much like giving up. Or fleeing."

There was silence, for a moment, as Giles tried to think of a way to get Buffy to take his advice seriously. Buffy prayed he wouldn't say anything more about her staying away from Spike. She was dangerously close to shoving her fingers in her ears and yelling "La, la, la, la, la," at the top of her lungs.

Childish, much?

Finally, Buffy asked, "Have you found out any more about the prophesies?"

Giles frowned at her change of topic. "A bit. We've found some writings which indicate that you and Spike must 'harness the darkness within.' There was something about a mutual binding. Perhaps, with the dreams you've been having, this information might mean something to you..." He trailed off at Buffy's pensive expression.

Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Binding - Spike claimed me! In the dream! Only it turned out to be outside the dream too."

"He what?!" Giles yelled.

Xander chose that moment to enter the Summers residence. "Who what? What what? Wha'd I miss?"

Noticing neither Xander's entrance, nor Giles' exclamation, Buffy continued without pause - "Hmmm - mutual? I guess that means I ought to claim him. He'll love to hear that. I don't know if I'm ready to move that fast in our relationship, though. I mean, claiming's like mating, or marriage, or something - isn't it? Giles? Oh, hey - Xander. I didn't know you'd be coming by."

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

Spike chose that moment to come down from the second floor. Buffy hadn't wanted him to join them until she had finished speaking to Giles, but he had heard Xander's entrance, and wanted to know why the bloke had come over.

He took stock of the situation. *The whelp looks clueless - as always. A bit like he's been given a prefrontal lobotomy. Nothing new there. Watcher's looking a bit...constipated. Well that can't be good, now can it? Oh, Christ - tell me she didn't tell him about the claiming!*

Buffy sensed his presence. "Spike, I thought I told you to stay upstairs."

Spike was struck by the interesting image of Buffy screaming 'Run! My dad's gonna kill you!' Well, Giles was pretty much her dad. And running looked like a fabulous idea at the moment. He replied to Buffy's statement - "Was just heading back up, actually."

"Stay." Giles growled. He actually *growled.*

*Heh, heh,* Spike thought. *Good thing he can't castrate me just by glaring, right?...Right?!?!*

"Buffy, how could you let something so foolish happen? I've heard of claiming in the vampiric sense. The-the nature of vampire relationships is very dark and twisted. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into. Though surely Spike knew all of this before he went through with this action." Giles turned to glare at the vampire in question.

"Buffy must have explained the dream to you. I wasn't exactly in control at the time."

"Oh, of course. I imagine you would have been fighting the prospect of blood binding tooth and nail if it hadn't been for the dream, " Giles said sarcastically.

Spike moved his hands to cover his genitalia protectively.

"It's not like this is some sire/child thing, you know. There doesn't have to be anything...twisted about it. And dark? She's a slayer. Her life's already dark. It won't become any darker because of this."

Buffy began to get annoyed. "Okay, first of all - Giles - don't talk about my relationship with Spike like that. Second - I feel like I'm in the dark here. I want to know *exactly* what a claim entails *right* *now.* And no, don't tell me. Either of you. Just find me a book with the most objective description that you can find."

Spike grimaced. "I'll bet the only books watcher, there, has were written up by the council. I doubt you'll get a very objective answer that way."

"Fine, Spike. I'll read it. Then you'll read it. Then you'll tell me if the book skipped anything or got anything wrong. We'll go to the Magic Box. And while we're at it, Giles, you can show me exactly what that prophesy said. I want to know how Spike's claiming me might be relevant to the impending apocalypse.

Xander looked very much at a loss, and not a little out of the loop. "Um, yeah. I'll just go with you."

"Why are you here, by the way," Spike asked him.

"Uh - just checking up on things. We going?"

Xander headed for the door, followed by Giles. Buffy went after them, but Spike grabbed her arm before she could leave. "Buffy...you don't really think that I'd put you in danger and not tell you, do you?"

Buffy was still and thoughtful for a moment. Then, she smiled reassuringly. "I would never think that. I can...feel that this claim is...right. It feels right. I think I ought to know more about it than that it feels right, though. Especially since it probably has a lot to do with the whole end of the world deal we've been hearing about."

Spike smiled, relieved. "I'll grab a blanket and join you through the sewers."

"Be careful. Use an ugly blanket. I don't want singe marks on a good one."

"No, can't have that. Ugly blanket it is. I'll be right with you, love." Spike pulled her into one, soft kiss before releasing her arm, and watching as she walked out into the sunlight.

~tbc~

 

Part 6:

"...claiming is a method by which a vampire may express ownership over another vampire. The process is often followed by drinking of the blood of the claimed and a violent act of c-huh? Oh - coitus. Blah, blah, blah...hmmm. Oh! Commonly a sire will claim its childer. I wonder if Drusilla claimed Spike. Or would that have been Angelus?" Buffy lifted her head from the heavy volume of vampire lore to see her boyfriend burst through the door with a smoldering blanket pulled over his head.

"Hey Spike - which one sired you again?"

"Uh...what?"

"Angelus or Dru. Which one sired you. Hey! That rhymes!"

"The both did. Sort of. Why?"

She showed him the book.

"Oh. You started without me, I see."

"Awww, did we hurt widdle Spike's feelings."

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"We did! I'm sorry, William. Go write some poetry. It might cheer you up."

"You're a laugh a minute, Summers."

She grinned, then walked over and swung her arms around him, rising on her tip toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I do try."

"Yes, well 'do try' not to do that in front of me," said Giles, waving his arms frantically at the text. "We have research."

Spike picked up the book. "Well, this looks pretty much correct. It fits to a tee what happened with between me an my sires. Those watchers just left that bit off, though. This doesn't really apply to us, pet. It doesn't say anything about mutual claiming."

"To a tee? So Angel claimed you...followed by a violent act of coitus?"

Spike got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment. He shook himself out of his reverie to find Buffy staring wide-eyed at him. "Yeah, well, as I was saying - doesn't really apply to us. Nothing you need to know about. What I did to you was different."

"Oooookay, fine. You can explain to me later. You said mutual claiming. So far, you've claimed me. I haven't claimed you. It's not mutual."

"It's about intent, Buffy. The sort of claim described in that book is all about control. If two vampires come to each other as equals, that changes everything. Then it's about sharing. Like marriage, in a way." His eyes were open and sincere, pleading with her to understand.

"So what happens if I don't claim you back?"

"It's not the sort of claim I can control you with. It bonds me to you, but not you to me. You're pretty much free, in this scenario."

"But you're...not?"

"I'm yours, Buffy. Always was. It's not much different, now. Oh, God, listen to me. I sound just like William. Utterly pathetic."

"Hey - I like William. Without him, there'd be no you."

Buffy was about to move in for another kiss when Giles snapped, "People, please!"

Buffy finally broke away, a chastened look on her face. She nervously fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "So...you gonna show me that other prophesy you found?"

Giles let out a silent sigh of relief. "Yes. It's right over here."

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

Xander appeared a few minutes later, emerging from the bathroom to find Buffy, Giles, and Spike leaning over another ancient text. "Ah - everyone's here. Did you work out the 'claiming' thing?"

"Yep," Buffy said. "All worked out. Well, almost. I think I'll have to claim him back, now."

Giles frowned. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Yes, Giles. Can we move on?"

"Very well. The prophesy here states that bonding both strengthens you and weakens you."

Xander laughed. "Ah yes. Cryptic and more cryptic. You think they'd try for some variety in their writing style. A more direct approach every now and then would be nice."

"Are you just going to stand there, or help us," Spike snapped. "Because if you are just going to stand there, you might as well leave." *Don't you have an Anya to shag?*

"Well, I should probably go talk to Anya. You know - tell her how things are going."

Spike smiled. "Good idea whe...Xander."

"What, no insult? Buffy, you housebroke him! Uh, yeah - I was going. See you guys later."

The three murmured a goodbye, not bothering to lift their eyes from their work. Silence reigned, for a while. Finally, Giles spoke up. "I found this earlier. If it pertains to this situation, then it might prove quite important. It says that 'great Evil is coming.'"

"And...how does this help us? We know something bad is coming."

Spike looked over at the text. "No, Buffy. Not something. Evil. The way this book describes it, it almost talks about evil as if it were a person."

"What, like evil personified? What are we talking about here."

Giles met her confused look with a worried gaze. "I'm not sure."

~tbc~