Dark Gift

By: Schehrezade

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all the characters contained within. I hold no claim on them.

Rating: Eventually NC-17

Summary: Set during Buffy versus Dracula and then goes seriously AU after that! Buffy is missing and Spike is the only one who has noticed. Where is Buffy and why is Spike the only one who is worried? Will the peroxide vampire be able to find her before it's too late? What has happened to the Scoobies and will they save Xander before he really becomes Dracula's butt monkey?

Thanks to Evenstar for the pic!

Chapter One

"There's trouble in Restfield. Need the Slayer to sort it," Spike commented as he sauntered into the Magic Box. "Bloody demons chanting and raucous shaggin’, equal a bloke’s sleep being disturbed!"

Five figures glanced up from the research table and eyed the vampire with varying degrees of disinterest.

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Who? And why do we

care if you can't sleep?"

Spike blinked at the older man's question. He hesitated at the front of the

shop, unwilling to come in any further. The blond vampire was acutely aware

of the dislike and, in some cases, out right hatred that he evoked in the

so-called "White Hats" of Sunnyhell.

The petite redhead at the table frowned; her eyes blanked slightly as she tried to seize whatever memory was hovering just out of her grasp. "Slayer? Is this one of your mind games, Spike?" Willow asked, her curiosity slightly peaked.

Spike's jaw dropped. "Are you all stoned? Oi! Captain Cardboard! You can't have forgotten your main squeeze," Spike spat out the last few words, suppressing the jealously that tinged them. He began to pace.

Riley frowned. "Main squeeze? What the hell are you talking about, Hostile 17? I don't have a girlfriend." Riley's tried to stop his hand from moving to the bite tracks on his inner arms, left by his latest vampire conquest.

Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it, ignoring both Anya and Giles' pointed glares. "Is this ‘bug the crap outta Spike’ night? Slayer, about so high…" Spike held his hand at shoulder height. "Blonde with big hazel green eyes and a nice rack." Spike paused for a moment. 'Nice rack? Where the bloody hell did that come from?'

"A friend of yours, Spike? ‘Cos I have to say; I wouldn't be surprised if you knew someone named Slayer. I mean some of the lowlifes you associate with, honestly." Anya tilted her head slightly and watched with poorly concealed amusement the sight of the blond vampire's jaw dropping with his half smoked cigarette attached to his bottom lip.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you lot?" Spike plucked the cigarette from his lip and threw it to the floor in a flash of anger. "She's called Buffy," Spike hooked his thumbs in his waistband and rocked on his heels waiting for some sort of reaction. The frustration was radiating off his tense form. "Buffy Summers, your friend and protector of all that is good and right! Right stuck up little prig, prone to smashing me on the nose for the hell of it? Ring a bell?"

Willow felt something in the pit of her stomach when the obviously agitated vampire mentioned that strange name. 'What was it again?'

"Look, Spike, we don't have time for your stupid games." Giles sneered as he stalked over to the peroxide blond vampire, his Ripper persona in full force. He grabbed the smaller man and pinned him to a display case. "I want you to piss off like a good boy." With that, Giles dragged the stunned and unresisting vampire to the door and threw him out. Slamming it shut, the Englishman locked it before Spike could re-enter.

"Willow, we really need to work on a dis-invite for public places. Now, back to the subject at hand. Dracula."

"The Initiative has agreed to help out. I contacted Graham. He and a select group are coming over." Riley leant forward and smiled earnestly. "It'll be good to see them again."

"You remember to ‘just say no’ this time, right?" Anya peered over the book she was reading.

Riley smiled. "Yeah, I do...Don't worry, guys. I wouldn’t go back, not after everything you did for me."

"Well, we worry about you. I mean you are my favourite demon-fighting T.A. I

can't believe those goobers were pumping you up with drugs!" Willow pouted.

Tara ran her fingers through Willow's fiery locks, calming her irritated lover.

"Honey, it's okay. We managed to save him, and Riley got rid of Adam, so we're all okay now." The usually silent blonde added, "We just need to find a way of getting Xander out from Dracula's control before we can stake him and his nasty B..Brides." Tara stumbled over word as a faint memory of blonde hair and red leather trousers flashed through her mind.

"Tara! What is it, sweetie?" Willow sensed her girlfriend's distress for a spilt second.

"Nothing. I just..." Tara shrugged, a fine line appeared between her fair eyebrows. "Spike really was weird just now. What did he mean by Slayer?"

Giles looked over. "Absolutely no idea what the idiot was talking about. Riley, remind me a again why we haven't put him out of our misery?"

"Because it's wrong, Giles. He can't fight back. He’s impotent...flaccid." Riley tried not to show too much glee at his words and failed miserably, much to the delight of the others.

Giles stared at ex-Initiative soldier, his words tickled at the edges of his subconscious. The man could see Spike chained in his tub and someone leaning over and feeding him. The image vanished in a flash, and the tweed-clad man shook his head, forgetting the images and sighed. "We need to get something on Dracula and rescue Xander before it's too late." Giles reached over and patted Anya's hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, we'll get him back."

"I hope so. I will have to disinfect him thoroughly. I mean, how disgusting, devouring spiders." Anya shuddered delicately.

Spike stood outside the Magic Box, his blue eyes widening with every overheard word. "Bloody hell! Drac's around? Sodding bastard owes me eleven quid with interest. Hang on!" Spike peered into the shop window and watched as the Scoobies laughed and researched. "They have no idea who the Slayer is. What the hell is going on?" Then the Watcher’s final words sunk in. "Rescue puffy boy? Wonder what the hell the git's gotten himself into?"

Spike froze. He could feel something inhuman watching him. The Cockney vampire twisted slowly and scanned the street. His nostrils flared as the vampire scented the air. It was familiar. Spike casually looked up, out of the corner of his eye he spotted the large grey wolf. It was sitting on the rooftop of one of the shops further down the street. 'Something's not right here.’ Spike snorted, he lit another cigarette and leant on the wall next to the Magic Shop. He held the animal's gaze until it turned and loped off, all the while listening in on the muted conversations of the Slayer's friends.

'Why the bloody hell am I worried about the blonde bint? Should be soddin’ glad she's vanished. I'm not effing Peaches!' Spike thought angrily to himself. But the former Scourge of Europe's mind was filled with Buffy's large, serious eyes and a flash of Joyce's concerned face. Spike balled his fists in frustration. He had a soft spot for the elder Summers woman; the chipped Vampire spun on his heel and dashed off towards Revello Drive.

"Did Spike say there were demons chanting and having sex in his cemetery?" Anya peered over her research book. "’Cos if that's so, it may not be a good combination, maybe someone should...you know."

Willow and Riley stood.

Giles glanced up. "Yes, right, the two of you should go. Please be careful."

"See you later, sweetie." Willow leant over and pressed a gentle kiss to Tara's lips.

"Be careful okay?" Tara eyed her lover worriedly; this was the part of Willow's life she hated. But Willow had the power to fight demons, and with Riley's army training they were an unstoppable force.

Willow nodded and followed Riley out of the store into the night.

"You have any idea what Spike was talking about?" Riley asked as they strode down Main Street.

"That Buffy girl?" Willow felt a tingle in her stomach. "No idea! But he seemed

real positive we knew who she was."

"No one you know from class?" Riley suggested.

Willow thought for a moment. "Nope, not from class and I don't think there was anyone called that in High School. Kinda a weird name, though."

"Very Valley Girl, ditzy name, isn’t it?" Riley shrugged ending the conversation.

Spike stood under the tall tree outside the Slayer's house and watched as Joyce moved from room to room. Spike waited until the older woman disappeared into the kitchen before climbing onto the roof. The agile vampire crept over the shingles and peered into the Slayer's room. Everything was still there down to the irritating pig sitting on her bed. Spike sagged against the window frame with relief. The vampire tried to ignore the emotions rolling through his body, which had been evoked from the realisation that the pain in his arse was not completely erased from Sunnydale.

"Spike?" Joyce's voice startled the vampire and sent him flying off the roof in a flurry of curses and growls.

"Soddin’ hell, woman!" Spike growled. He lay at Joyce's feet, the blonde woman smiled down at the humiliated vampire.

"You okay?" She asked, her warm voice filled with concern.

Spike closed his eyes as embarrassment flooded him. "Yeah, feel like a right nit though! Creature of the night here and I jump like a pansy and fall off your roof."

Joyce reached down and pulled the vampire to his feet. "Come on, I'll get some cocoa going and we can catch up."

Spike trotted after the gentle woman. "So where's the Slayer?"

"Who?" Joyce turned and looked over at the pole-axed demon standing behind

her.

Spike felt his stomach knot and a shiver ran down his spine. 'The Slayer's own mother has no idea who or where she is.'

"What room was I just looking into?" Spike decided to play it safe rather than start blathering on about missing daughters.

"The spare room? You know, the one I offered to you to stay in, why?" Joyce pulled Spike into the house and headed into the kitchen. “Marshmallows?" Joyce turned with the bag in her hand. "You okay?" She frowned at Spike's worried expression.

"Wot? Um, yeah. Love marshmallows, ta, pet."

"Spike, are you okay? You look really worried!" Joyce exclaimed as she reached for Spike.

The vampire remained silent, he could smell the Slayer all over and the scent was driving him nuts. He had no idea what to do or say. He automatically took the mug of hot cocoa and sipped it.

"Mum?"

"Yes, Spike, what is it?" Joyce sat down at the breakfast bar and pulled the preoccupied vampire down next to her.

"If you knew someone was missing and needed help what would you do?" Spike blew on his hot drink, his eyes never leaving the woman who sat next to him. He was shocked by the idea that she had wanted him to live in her home, but at the moment was more focused on using her as a moral guide.

"I'd try and help, maybe call the police. Or is this one of those mystical thingies we don't mention?" Joyce sipped at her mug.

Spike stood. "Right! Help…I guess I could do that?" He tilted his head and looked at his only friend for approval.

Joyce reached over and patted him on the arm. "Yes, you could, Spike, I think you could help a great deal." Before she could add anything else, Spike disappeared with a burst of vampiric speed into the night.

Chapter 2

Thanks to Spike's Bint for the pic!

Spike ran through the streets of Sunnydale for most of the night, trying to catch a scent trail of the missing Slayer. All the while wondering why only he saw evidence of the Slayer's life, her room, and her intoxicating scent. All his memories of fighting her and exchanging verbal barbs were intact; unlike her nearest and dearest who had no idea who he was talking about. Spike stumbled to a halt, 'Hang on! Nearest and dearest! The Poof!'

Spike ran towards a payphone and dug through his pockets, searching for change. He then stopped, realising he didn't know the old sod's number. He wracked his brain trying to recall the conversations he had eavesdropped on when he was chained in the Watcher’s tub. "Come on! Spike! Think! What was the name of the ponce's pathetic business?" Spike sank to the pavement and sat on the curb, resting his head in his hands, trying to remember what the Slayer and Red had chattered about all those weeks ago. Half starved and terrified, he had not been focused on the others, too busy moping and wondering what the hell would become of him.

What had become of him? One moment he hated Buffy and now… now he was trying to save her? Spike sighed; he avoided the dark corner of his undead heart, the area he had locked away after Red's ‘My Will be Done’ spell. The memories of the Slayer's hot little body wriggling all over him, the stolen kisses and the furtive groping. Mostly, he tried to suppress the memories of how right it had felt holding her. The depth of the feelings she evoked in him, then and now, terrified the vampire as much as they elated him, something that, until now, he had not allowed himself to investigate.

"That's it! Angel Investigations." Spike leapt to his feet and grabbed for the phone. He reached the operator and within seconds he was connected to the number, it rang for several long moments.

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless."

Spike rolled his eyes at the chirpy voice. "All right, Cheerleader?"

"Who is this?" Cordelia's sharp tones demanded.

"Umm...is Peaches around?" Spike twisted the phone's cord around one long
finger.

"Spike! Spike? What are you doing calling here?" Cordelia's voice became even colder.

"Look, I ain't got time to shoot the breeze with yah, I need to have a chat with m'Grandsire about the Slayer," Spike growled impatiently.

"Buffy? What have you done with her? If you've hurt her in any way I'll…"

Spike's undead heart leapt. "You know Buff...who I'm talking about?" He could've kissed the annoying bint if she had been near him!

"Yeah, I know Buffy. Spike, what the hell is wrong with you? Has the bleach finally melted your brain?"

Spike slammed the receiver down and did what looked suspiciously like a Snoopy dance. He punched the air and yelled at the top of his lungs. "Yes!" He collected himself and glanced up and down the street making sure no one had seen his antics.

The phone began to ring behind him. Reaching over, he picked up the receiver. "Uhh…hullo?"

"Spike?"

The peroxide blond vampire winced at the annoying sound of his Grandsire's voice. "Peaches! How are they hangin’, mate? Should be nice and blue by now!"

"What are you ringing here asking about Buffy for? If you've hurt her in any way, I'll…"

"Yeah, yeah, rip me a new one, I know." Spike's mind raced, trying to think of a cover story. Last thing he needed was the brooding one sweeping in here and saving the day.

"Why did you call about Buffy?" Angel snarled.

"Uh… no reason, really. Was just wondering if you were still hankering after her?" Spike smirked evilly.

There was a pause. Angel drew in an unneeded breath. "Spike, has life got so boring you need to give me crank calls?"

"Yeah. Catch you later, Peach fuzz!" Spike slammed down the phone and stalked off into the night.

"So the Ponce remembers the Slayer, which means the spell is localised." Spike pondered to himself as he wandered through a small park. "Think, Spike. Who could cast a glamour over the Scoobies and the Slayer's Mum?" Spike began to pace in circles as he contemplated his and the Slayer's predicament. He desperately tried to remember when he had last seen the bint. It'd been two nights ago, just before Captain Cardboard had come to ask him about…

Spike stopped stock-still, as inspiration finally struck. "Oh, how bloody stupid am I?" Spike slapped his forehead. Of course! The blond vampire shook his head, this stank of Dracula and his gipsy tricks.

"You really want me to answer that, Fangless?"

Spike turned to face the newcomer, a sardonic smile lighting his face. He couldn’t resist needling the boy; he was evil, wasn’t he? "Well if it isn't Drac's new butt monkey! How's the Renfield position working out for yah, Whelp?"

Xander stepped forward, twisting his fingers and picking at the scabs on his cuticles. "Don't call me that! The Dark Master is my friend, he has promised to make me a creature of the night!"

Spike looked at the idiot facing him, dressed in his usual hideous Hawaiian shirt and baggy trousers, which were good for disguising the extra pounds the prat had put on. He arched his scarred brow. "So, eat any nummy spiders lately? Your demon bint is not a happy girl. I think she gonna have you dipped in sheep dip before she'll go anywhere near you!" Spike taunted the floppy git, his loathing for the boy apparent in his voice.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut Up!" Xander's voice echoed shrilly through the small park.

Spike watched through hooded eyes, he needed to get the idiot riled up enough that he would bolt for Drac's, in turn leading him there and hopefully to the Slayer. Spike figured that the Slayer had obviously gone to stake the show-off and had been snagged by the Transylvanian gipsy, who had, in turn, made sure that none of her mates and family remembered her. But why?

Joyce remained seated at the breakfast counter. She held the now cool mug in her hands. She glanced over at Spike’s half drunk mug and frowned. She had never seen her midnight visitor so agitated and behaving so strangely. His anxiety and odd questions had unnerved her.

Rising, the middle-aged woman carried to mugs to the sink and washed them out automatically. Once she had finished, the tired woman trudged upstairs. Pausing on the landing, Joyce pushed open the door of the room Spike had been peering into from her roof.

She stumbled for a moment and blinked. Shaking her head, Joyce stared at the room as it changed before her eyes. Posters appeared on the walls, photographs of a blonde girl and her friends popped into existence before her startled eyes. Joyce raised a hand to her throat and stepped into the transformed room. Her eyes scanned the contents as confusion spread across her face, finally alighting on a small stuffed pig, which sat on the bed.

"Buffy?" she whispered as she collapsed in a dead faint on the floor.

"How many is that for tonight?" Willow called from her perch on top of a crumbling mausoleum.

Riley wiped his forehead with the back of his arm and stuffed a stake into the pocket of his jacket. "Seven, I think. Should we try Spike's cemetery and see of those demons are there?"

Willow floated down to the ground. "Sure, why not? I mean, we checked once but maybe they are there now."

The two protectors of Sunnydale disappeared into the night, both unaware of their silent observer. A large grey wolf turned and streaked away into the night

"It's impossible!" Anya slammed the book shut and a cloud of dust floated from it, causing her to sneeze.

"What is?" Tara asked mildly. She carefully turned the page of the Compendium she was reading.

"Xander. He is the only one who can break Dracula's hold. There's nothing we can do!" Anya threw her arms up and paced over to the cash till, reaching in to fondle to bills, trying to calm herself.

Giles nodded in agreement. "We need to capture Xander and reason with him."

"We could lay down a trail of dead bugs for him," Tara muttered under her breath. Giles glanced over at the usually quiet Wiccan, his mouth twitched at the corners.

"I heard that!" Anya whipped around and tried to glare at Tara, but failed and collapsed into a giggling pile on the floor. Giles cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, but began to laugh, propping himself up with his hands on his knees. Tara blushed slightly and eventually their infectious laughter was too much. She began to giggle as well.

Giles wiped the tears from his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Anya, but really, the foolish boy is always getting into the most ridiculous scrapes! Hyena possession, falling for a Incan Mummy who then tried to suck his essence from him and… Oh! He also nearly turned into a sea monster!" With that Giles burst into a gale of laughter. "Honestly, if it wasn't for Bu…Willow, he would be the sex slave of a Preying Mantis or worse." Giles froze when he realised his slip. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Another flash of blond hair filled his mind and a vaguely remembered conversation, something about cats for shoes.

"So, Whelp, what you doing lurkin’ in the park at night? Cruising or something?" Spike drawled, hoping that the jibe about the nit's sexuality might finally provoke Xander into running home to his Master. He needed someone to show him the way, the vampire didn’t want to waste anymore time searching.

"What?" Xander looked over that his nemesis in confusion.

"You know, cruisin’ for a boyfriend? Why else would you be out at this time, wandering through a park?" Spike folded his arms and mentally counted. 'One...two...three.'

"You're disgusting, Spike!" With that, Xander turned and began to run.

Spike waited a beat and then began to follow the panting boy.

"And, of course, only in Sunnyhell!" Spike muttered under his breath as he watched Xander disappear into the sodding great castle that stood in front of the vampire. Spike was familiar with the entire area and knew that the gothic monstrosity that stood before him had not been there a few days ago. It had been a dog pound.

Spike squatted down behind some bushes and waited. He sniffed the air and a wide smile painted across his face. 'Slayer's been here and not too long ago.'

Spike crawled closer to the castle. He wanted to have a scout round before entering the proverbial lion’s den. 'Now what do I do? I'm not a bloody hero. How do I rescue her?'

"Master? Master!" Xander yelled as he ran through the ornately furnished corridors of the castle. He stumbled to a halt in the great hall.

Dracula was seated at the head of the table tended by his three vampiric brides. The tallest looked over at the sweating mortal and grimaced. She flounced out of the hall without a word.

The room was candlelit and a roaring fire was at the other end of the long dining table. The minstrel's gallery was behind the Master vampire, where a blindfolded trio of musicians played their instruments. Dracula inhaled deeply, enjoying the stench of fear pouring off the soon to be dead musicians.

"What is it you want, little man?" Vlad the Impaler pushed away the two fawning female vampires and allowed one to settle at his feet and rest her head in his lap. His hand lay on her head, playing with her soft locks.

Xander glanced down briefly at the female vampire and frowned. "I...I want you, Master."

Dracula eyed to sweating boy with an amused glint to his eyes. "And you have me."

"Please." Xander sank to his knees. "Please, make me one of yours! I want the dark gift! Please, I need it," Xander sobbed.

Dracula rolled his eyes at the pathetic mess before him. He had no intention of granting the begging boy’s wishes. The mortal had been a means to an end, nothing more. "All in good time, my son."

"Yeah right! Come on, Drac. You and I both know that you're never gonna lay a fang on the Whelp!" Spike drawled as he entered the hall. He stood, dramatically framed in the arched doorway, slipping his hands in his pockets. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, exhaling smoke through his nose the he eyed the brunette vampire and his simpering minion. Spike tried not to grin at the sight of the whelp simpering and fawning over the Transylvanian Master vampire. ‘Trust Harris to be the weak-minded git who falls for Drac’s mind tricks…’ Spike sneered around his cigarette as he puffed on it.

"William the Bloody, it's been forever! Come take a seat." Dracula waved a hand to the seat at the other end of the table. He wanted as much room between the two of them as possible, acutely aware that the blond vampire was a deadly opponent if provoked. “How are you, my friend? Can’t remember the last time we met in the killing fields.”

"Been a while. Last time I saw you was in Venice, big poker game, remember?" Spike commented casually. As he flopped into the proffered chair, he swung one leg over the arm and eyed the vampire at the end of the long table. His black clad frame was relaxed, belying the tension that ran through the bleached blond vampire. Spike flicked the cigarette into the burning fire behind him, the flames dramatically lighting his sharp features.

"Wine?"

"Yeah, Puffy boy does that a lot!" Spike needled.

Dracula laughed. "True, he does, but the boy had his uses. I meant a drink."

One of the Brides appeared at Spike's shoulder and handed him a glass of red wine. Spike nodded his thanks. His nostrils flared at the scent of the Slayer, which saturated the woman next to him. He took a sip, his pale blue eyes never leaving his seated opponent. Spike sat casually, trying to act as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He could tell that the Slayer was close; he could smell her all over the room.

"So what brings you here?" Dracula asked quietly.

"Heard you were in town, figured I could catch up with an old mate." Spike took a long drink from the glass, emptying it. He held it out towards the silent female next to him, who filled it without comment. Spike nodded his thanks and took a deep breath, deciding to gamble. He knew Drac had something to do with the Slayer vanishing, her scent was everywhere in the castle, strongest in the room he was lounging in now. "Also came to collect on a debt." Spike tossed out the comment casually, throwing down a gauntlet.

Dracula arched a dark brow. "A debt?"

Spike snorted. "Yeah, you owe me eleven quid plus ninety-odd years interest, which you named the rate at. You know it! If I hadn't given you that dosh, those Venetians would've tied you to the to the Dome of the Basilica and I doubt your gypsy tricks would've saved you!"

"True," Dracula conceded.

"Master, you don't owe him anything! Let me stake him," Xander piped up from his prostrate position on the floor.

"Silence!" Dracula bellowed. His shout caused the hidden female vampire at his feet to whimper in fear, drawing Spike's attention to her.

"You got someone under the table? Picked up that trick from Casanova, didn’t you, Drac? She any good?" Spike teased. He leant over and peered under the table. He could make out a small form, whose head was resting in Dracula’s lap. Spike couldn’t make out her features.

"Leave us." Dracula ignored Spike and glared at Xander.

"But, Master! Please don't make me leave your divine presence," Xander begged as he crawled backwards out of the room.

"Go to my chambers and wait for me there," the dark haired vampire ordered.

"Oh, thank you, Master." Xander crawled the rest of the way out of the room. Spike watched him as he left with a large smile on his face.

"Man, that just made my unlife, seeing Floppy boy on his hands and knees." Spike raised his glass in a toast to Dracula.

Dracula turned his attention back to the Master Vampire. "In answer to your earlier question, yes, I do have someone here at my feet, allow me to introduce her." Dracula reached down and pulled the silent vampiress to her feet.

Spike choked on his wine as the small figure turned to face him. ‘Jesus!’ Spike mentally grimaced at his last comment, he felt the alien sensation of shame flood him.

"May I present my latest triumph...though I admit I was a bit disappointed." Dracula sighed.

"Bloody hell! You turned a Slayer?" Spike rose to his feet, the glass shattered in his hand.

"I did indeed." Dracula cupped Buffy's chin and turned her face towards Spike. "Show him," he ordered coldly.

Spike gripped the table, trying to stop himself from falling to his knees. He was too late. He couldn’t understand the wave of anger and sorrow that flooded him, but he knew that there was no way he was leaving this godforsaken place without the Slayer. He felt disgusted with himself at his comment about Drac being served under the table, now that he knew who it was…

Buffy's eyes flashed into a pale lavender hue, much like her sire's, and she smiled, revealing her tiny needle sharp fangs.

"Good girl." Dracula stroked her shining blonde hair and patted her on the head.

Chapter 3

Spike stood frozen at the sight of Buffy's sharp fangs and pale lavender eyes. 'Christ, she's even more entrancing.' The smitten vampire blinked at his traitorous train of thought. 'She's your enemy, you ponce! Remember that!' Spike continued his inner diatribe, unaware that his presence and search for the forgotten Slayer negated all his pep talks to himself. He shook his hand and then clenched it into a fist at his side before shoving it into his duster pocket.

Spike was furious. Buffy being turned into something she fought was wrong…

Dracula watched the Aurelian Master Vampire closely; he was intrigued as to why Spike had come to his home visiting. He had his suspicions, and if he were correct, then it would work to his benefit and also discharge a debt to the Aurelian Vampire. To test the peroxide vampire, the Transylvanian Master allowed his hand to slid downwards and cup the turned Slayer's full backside and pulled her unresisting body against his.

Spike's eyes flashed gold for a brief second at the sight of the gypsy vampire openly fondling the diminutive blonde's soft curves and cradling her body against him. 'Don't react . Keep cool, if the bastard realises you're interested, then the game moves to a different level.' Spike reached over and grabbed the bottle of wine that was on the long table; he consciously steadied himself, trying not to let his hand shake. Pulling the cork with his teeth, the fuming vampire took a long pull on bottle. "Nice pet you've got there. Bit on the silent side, though. How’d you manage that? Usually she yaps away, driving a bloke demented!" Spike smirked as he flopped back into his seat and propped his Doc Martin clad feet on the highly polished surface of the table. "May I?" With that, Spike snagged the vampiress that had served him earlier and pulled her giggling form onto his lap.

Dracula watched his old friend's hands as they trailed all over the body of his still giggling Bride. His eyes narrowed as Spike pulled her in for a kiss. Spike released his not so reluctant conquest and gestured for her to seat herself at the side of his chair. "Spike, that’s one of my favourites," the longhaired vampire warned good-naturedly as he re-took his seat.

Both of the male vampires were aware of the undercurrent of tension and chose to ignore it, covering their true feelings with bravado and banter.

Spike pulled away from the purring female's neck and focused on Dracula's amused face. The few seconds of kissing and holding the willing female had allowed Spike to regroup and calm down. All he could see, though, was Buffy's lifeless eyes and the horror filled eyes of Joyce when he told her of her daughter's turning. Well, if she remembered she had one, that was.

"Sorry, mate, but you have to admit she is rather cute!" Spike pressed a sloppy kiss on her forehead before taking another pull on the bottle he held in his free hand. His blue eyes narrowed as he watched Buffy rest her cheek against Drac's leather clad thigh and watch him impassively. "So, how'd you get your mitts on that one?" Spike gestured carelessly with the bottle at Buffy. "Looks pretty funny, that stuck up bint on her knees at your feet!" Spike added with a laugh that belied the anger at seeing the usually vibrant Slayer completely submissive and controlled by one that she hunted.

"It was simple, she was gifted to me," Dracula drawled as he reached down and pulled Buffy's limp arm to his mouth and then, to Spike’s barely contained anger, he sank his teeth into her skin and began to drink. Dracula tried not to grimace at the taste of his captive's blood, he could taste her anger and hatred, and the images that he saw filled him with fear. Pulling back, he licked his lips. "Delicious."

Spike's eyes narrowed as he honed in on one word. "Gifted?" He arched his scarred brow in question.

"Oh yes, it was quite simple. The fool who crawled out of here just now brought her to me." Dracula threw back his head and roared with laughter. "It was truly a pleasant surprise. I was not expecting the twitching idiot to bring me such a luscious gift, in the hope that I would turn him."

"The Whelp brought her?" Spike bit the side of his mouth to restrain his anger; he could feel the Initiative chip sending warning tingles through his cerebellum at the images of his skinning Harris alive for his betrayal of the Slayer. He covered his growing anger and agitation with a snort of laughter. "How did a nit like that manage to bring her to you?"

Dracula had sensed the gamut of emotions that the peroxide blond vampire had run through, and his interest was peaked. However, although he was still unwilling to end the game they were playing, he had found a way out of the predicament he was in. "Simple. He knocked her out and carried her here." He ran his fingers through Buffy's long hair in a smooth rhythm, soothing himself.

'Of course the soddin’ bint wasn't gonna suspect one of her best friends.’ Spike thought sadly. He had always considered the Scoobies to be a millstone around her neck ‘Her trust and blind faith in her Scoobies had been her downfall in the end.' Spike sat watching Drac's hand; trying to remind himself he needed to get Buffy out of here. Before he cut the offending appendage off and shoved it up the show off's arse. Spike tried to ignore the pain that was amplifying in his head, due to the various elaborate and gruesome ideas he was developing to pay back the Whelp's betrayal. His eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Buffy's small form again. 'Need to get her out of here! Free and clear of the git and his mind tricks.'

"Did you hear me, Spike?" Drac leant forward and rested his chin on one hand.

"Yeah, I did, mate. So, one of her own brought her to you? Use your mind whammy on him to do so?" Spike drawled, his affected brogue dropping as a result of the depth of his emotions. Emotions, that in the space of a few minutes the vampire had accepted and decided not to fight against. He’d do some navel examining later once they were both safe.

He cared for the Slayer and, more importantly, he cared for Buffy. He wanted... no, needed to get her out of this pit of vipers and hopefully save her.

"No. He brought her of his own volition and, well, how could I resist?" Drac grinned wickedly.

"So, the Slayer pressie wasn't enough to earn him a turning?" Spike asked, his curiosity peaked.

Dracula shuddered elegantly. "Hardly! I mean, would you want that around for all eternity?" He waved a hand in the direction of the door, which Xander had exited.

"Hard enough putting up with him now." Spike laughed. He was frantically reviewing his dwindling options.

"True, but it is useful having a pet that can walk in daylight, so I will keep him around for a while." Dracula shrugged. "So, why are you really here?" The Transylvanian had bored with their verbal jousting and wanted to bring the meeting to a close.

"Umm." Spike's eyes flickered to Buffy's form for a second before settling on Drac's amused face.

"Come now, William. We both know you want my pet, the question is what shall I get in return?" Dracula threw down the verbal gauntlet and time froze.

Joyce rolled over with a groan and pushed herself to her knees. Rising unsteadily, she rubbed her face and wondered why she had passed out in the spare room.

Tiredly, she trudged down the hallway and into the Master bedroom, mechanically going through the motions of preparing for bed. Joyce removed her makeup and earrings, placing the latter in a small glass dish on her dressing table, then pulled open a drawer, locating her hairbrush and beginning to pull it through her hair. Looking up in the mirror, Joyce gasped, a slim, blonde haired girl sat on her bed with a sad expression on her face.

The older woman turned around and looked over at her empty bed before turning back to the mirror and the young woman she could see in it.

"Mom? Mommy?" The small blonde's mouth moved and Joyce could hear her plaintive cries in her head.

"Oh. Sweetie." Joyce reached up and touched the image in her mirror and began to sob as the sad face faded away. "No! Come back. Please! I want…"

Giles sat in his apartment, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a book in the other. The classical music he had selected echoed through the empty apartment. The tired man took a sip of the amber liquid and scanned the page, a familiar word leaping out at him.

Slayer.

Giles sat up and peered at the cramped text. A flash of long blonde hair and a soaked formal white dress filled his mind for a brief moment.

Riley counted off his hundredth sit up and then stood. Reaching for a towel, he dried his torso and disappeared into his bathroom. The sound of the shower filled the room for a few minutes before the tall, ex-soldier reappeared and quickly dressed.

He slipped out of the apartment and disappeared into the night. As he walked, the soldier desperately scanned the seedy alleys of Sunnydale, searching for his girl.

Willow carefully undressed, dropping her clothes on the floor. She slipped under the covers and snuggled up against Tara's soft form. Sighing happily, the redhead wrapped her arms around her lover and drifted off to sleep.

Tara frowned and mumbled in her sleep, her dreams filled with a small blonde warrior who fought tenaciously.

"There you are, handsome! I've been looking all over for you."

Riley stopped and turned, a large smile across his face. "Hey, honey, I missed you." He loped over and wrapped his arms around the woman who had spoken to him.

"Missed this, more like." With that, the female vampire sank her teeth into the tall man's willing flesh.

Riley moaned and pulled her closer, his large hands cradling her head and stroking her long dark hair. He pulled the whore closer. The endorphins released into his system from her bite flooded him, filling him with a false sense of happiness and euphoria.

"In return?" Spike drawled.

"Certainly, if I am to gift you this prize of a turned Slayer, I need something in return for my largesse." Dracula seized Buffy by the hair and pulled her to her feet. The mute ex-Slayer hung limply in her Sire's grasp, like a marionette that had its strings cut.

Spike winced at Dracula's handling of the Slayer, as if she were a side of meat in a butcher shop window. The words escaped from his mouth before he could compose himself. "Don't do that!" He snarled as his eyes flashed gold and his face shifted.

Dracula watched amused. "Well, William, what a surprise."

"Let her go!" Spike growled and leapt to his feet, pushing the vampiress on his lap carelessly to the floor. He stalked over to Dracula, a pale lean hand snapped around Dracula's wrist. Spike pressed hard trying to get him to let go, his other hand rested gently in the small of Buffy's back. "I…said…you…Euro trash...scum, let the lady go!"

Dracula laughed and released his hold on Buffy's hair, she fell like a stone. Spike reached down and scooped her up and held her possessively against his chest. "You know, William, I'm always surprised at your depth of feelings for the fairer sex. That insane female you carted around for decades, Drusilla right? I never understood why you didn't put her out of her misery."

Spike growled half-heartedly at the insult thrown at his mad sire, but he wasn't too bothered anymore. His senses were filled with the exquisite scents of the small woman lying limply in his arms. His happiness faded when a more putrid scent rose from the golden girl in his arms. Spike's nostrils dilated at the scent of her bastard sire's seed drying on her inner thighs. A growl rumbled from the depth of his chest, all pretence of disinterest gone, chased away with the knowledge that his Slayer had been violated by the pond scum smiling at him.

He needed to get her away from Dracula right now.

Dracula chuckled at the anger in Spike's face. "Oh, come on. I had to sample the goods at least once, and I must say she was very unresponsive…truly disappointing, hence why…"

"You’re happy to hand her over to me ’cos she was a lousy shag? Charming, turn the poor bint and then toss her aside." Spike pulled Buffy even closer, his rage at the casual cruelty of the bastard sitting in front of him was inflaming his demon.

"So, we need to come to some sort of arrangement," Dracula drawled. He was desperate to get rid of his latest Childe and get away from this godforsaken town, after a few debts were paid, of course.

Spike stepped back, trying to distance himself and the Slayer from the Vampire seated at the dining table. "Here's an idea, I take the bird, you hand over any and all claim or control you have over her to me and we call it quits."

"Quits? I think not!"

"Look. The way I see it, you owe me and you owe me big," Spike snarled.

“How so?" Dracula asked curiously.

"Eleven quid, plus interest. I worked it out mate. You owe me just under a million quid, what with the interest you agreed on with me. I have it in writing, so don't even try to weasel out of it!" Spike warned.

"So, you are willing to forget the debt if I give her to you? That is all you want, William the Bloody?"

Spike nodded. "And remove the gypsy tricks you've done on her mother, mates and Watcher," he added.

Dracula gave a sigh. "Okay." He was hesitant to mention that the magicks he had used on the Slayer’s family and friends was already wearing off.

"Do it now and then piss off outta Sunnyhell." Spike hesitantly held out the small bundle of Slayer in his arms. “Go on. Do the ritual,” he ordered.

Dracula stood, dismissing their silent witness. Soon, only the three of them stood in the massive dining hall, the sound of the crackling fire breaking through the tense silence.

"Do it!" Spike ordered, desperation tingeing his voice.

Dracula rose and pulled a small knife from his boot. "She has killed, you know."

Spike closed his eyes sadly and clenched his teeth. He gave a sharp nod. "I can smell it on her breath, you ninny. I’m not a complete git…How many?"

"One, and I had to order her to do it," Dracula explained as he slashed his wrist and pressed it against Buffy's open mouth. Spike flinched at the sight of Buffy's mouth suckling the blood offered to her by her Sire.

"Do what?" Spike tilted his head confused by the vampire's comment.

"Yes, only one. She has been hard to control. One could say wilful." Dracula pulled his wrist away from Buffy's bloodstained lips.

"Always has been, mate, drives me batty." Spike smiled tenderly down at the small vampire he cradled in his arms.

"And yet you want her! You Aurelians are truly odd." Dracula chuckled. He began to chant under his breath.

Several minutes passed as the ritual continued. Buffy began to stir as the hold over her mind and body began to lessen.

"Hold her still, Spike," Dracula muttered. "And give me your wrist."

"Here." Spike extended his left hand, letting Buffy's head cradle in the juncture of his elbow, her head lolling away from his chest. Dracula efficiently slashed a shallow cut and reached under Buffy's head, lifting her red stained lips to the cut on Spike's wrist.

"How long shall I let your soon to be Childe drink from you?" he asked as he rubbed Buffy's throat, encouraging her to swallow.

"As long as you can." Spike gritted out, his body hardening at the touch of her soft lips, which were strangely warm.

"You want her strong? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Do it, mate."

"Okay, your mistake, William." Dracula sighed and continued the ritual. For the next few minutes, the two male vampires only spoke when the ritual demanded it. One offering the gift of a Childe and the other accepting the gift and all it entailed. Spike's voice was strong and clear, belying the sadness inside him.

Gradually the magicks began to take their toll and Spike sank to his knees, his head dropping forward and resting on Buffy's cool shoulder. Dracula followed suit, his hand still holding the diminutive vampiress to the cut on Spike's wrist.

There was a clap of thunder and then silence.

"It's done. She is yours and her friends and family are free of my control." Dracula rose fluidly.

Spike took a deep breath, his senses reeling as he inhaled the rich scents of his Childe. He looked up at Dracula briefly and then his gaze locked back on his beautiful girl. "Thank you, mate. I never realised that I wanted her, that I…." Spike trailed off, unwilling to voice the words, words that would change the course of his unlife.

"Come now, Spike, from the moment you stormed in here, I could see you love her." Dracula clapped Spike on the shoulder. "If I had known…"

"Wot, you wouldn't have turned her? I can't see that, mate." Spike staggered to his feet, his arms tightening around Buffy's small form. The white toga-like dress she was dressed in was pristine except for a few drops of blood on the bodice.

"Of course I would've, but I wouldn't have… well…" Dracula sighed.

"I know,, but guess what? Until a few hours ago, I didn't even care what happened to her and now…" Spike looked down at the sleeping form held protectively in his arms.

"It's fate." Dracula smiled wryly.

“Yeah, right…” Spike snorted and then paused. Drac was a tricky one, but he did have the sight…maybe there was something in his comment. Were they fated to be together? Spike looked down at Buffy and frowned. A thought occurred to Spike. "Oi, what about the Judas?"

"My simpering pet? I think I may keep him for a while before releasing him." Dracula grinned wickedly. "He has his uses when I tire of female company."

"You mean…" Spike threw his head back and laughed.

"It's time for you to go, Spike, good luck." Dracula escorted Spike from his castle. As the door swung shut behind Spike's back, his vampiric hearing caught Dracula's final words.

"Good luck, my friend. You'll need it! She has her soul."

Chapter 4

Across Sunnydale several people woke with a start.

Willow and Tara sat up, clutching at each other hands, the same name escaping from their lips.

"Buffy!"

Giles lurched forward in his armchair, the open book resting on his chest falling to the floor, forgotten, as memories of his Slayer filled his mind.

Joyce woke and stumbled to her daughter's room. "Buffy?" The empty room lay silent.

Riley grunted and pulled his latest fang buddy closer, aware that he would have to wear a turtleneck around his girlfriend for the next few weeks. That's if he saw her again. She had been mysteriously absent for the last few days.

Spike stumbled and fell to his knees. He looked down at his precious burden. 'A soul?'

"Master Spike?"

Spike glared over his shoulder as one of Dracula's brides approached him with a small chest. "Wot?"

"My Master wanted you to have this as a gift and a token of his gratitude for, well… taking her." The tall vampiress sneered at the unconscious form in Spike's arms.

Spike squinted up at the vampire. "Bit of a pain in the arse, was she?"

"Very much so, she fought him tooth and nail and was not grateful for his Dark Gift." She sighed.

Spike rolled his eyes at the female vampire's affectations of her git of a sire.

”It was intolerable. He was forced to subdue her with his thrall. Personally, I'm glad to see the back of her and I think my Master is, too." She grinned impishly at the unsurprised expression on Spike's face. "You don't look too surprised."

"Hardly! He gave her over too quickly." He nodded to the box. "Stick it in my pocket, gorgeous." The smiling bride did as he asked and then brushed a kiss over his sharp cheekbones.

"Good luck, Master Spike." With that, she disappeared into the castle.

"Oi, do me a favour and bite the Whelp for me!" Spike called after her.

"I will." Her voice drifted off.

"What am I going to do with you, sweetness?" Spike looked down at the comatose vampire cradled reverently in his arms.

Buffy whimpered at the sound of his voice and nestled closer to him.

"We need to get out of dodge and regroup before you come out to your mates and the Watcher,” Spike commented as he hauled himself up tiredly. The large amount of blood Buffy had drunk from him was taking its toll on his already depleted resources.

Spike strode off into the night.

Giles scrambled to his feet as his memories of Buffy returned. He raced for the telephone.

"Joyce? Is Buffy there?"

He pinched the top of his nose with his index finger and thumb, lines of worry appearing on his face.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Wait there, I'll come to you." Giles slammed the receiver down and ran from his apartment.

As he drove over to Revello Drive, he pondered the strange events of the last few days. Mostly worrying was why Spike had been to only one to recall Buffy.

Giles ran from his car up the walk as Joyce swung open the front door. Her usually smiling face pinched with worry.

“Joyce,” Giles gasped. He reached over and grabbed hold of her clammy hands.

“Oh…Giles, I saw her in my mirror! She looked so sad and scared, she called me Mommy…She hasn’t called me Mommy since she was baby…”

“Joyce, calm down, please…” Giles pulled the crying woman into her house and wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders.

“What’s happened to her?” Joyce asked through her tears.

“I…I don’t know, I can’t for the life of me work out why I didn’t remember her!”

Joyce nodded. “I know, I had a few flashes after Spike came over…Wait, Spike, he was acting very strangely…”

Giles pulled Joyce down onto the sofa with him. “What do you mean?”

“Well…I found him peering in Buffy’s window and startled him…I startled him and he, well, fell off the roof.” Joyce explained.

“Really? That’s odd. I mean, he’s a vampire. How could he be startled by anyone?” Giles frowned.

“I know, he’s usually tries to act so calm and collected, and he asked me what to do if someone was missing…”

Giles frowned. “How did he remain unaffected by whatever spell was cast on us?”

Joyce shrugged. “Maybe he was immune, or the person who cast it didn’t realise he knew…knows Buffy?”

“That makes sense. And Joyce, please don’t worry. I’m sure Buffy is all right.” He gingerly patted Joyce’s hand.

“Did you remember anything about Buffy?” Joyce asked, her curiosity peaked.

“No…well, not until after Spike came looking for her at the shop. I wonder if any of the others had flashes?” Giles’ Watcher persona surged to the fore.

“What do we do know?” Joyce asked.

“We need to expand our search,” Giles commented as he went to the phone.

“Expand?”

“Well…Xander is missing, too. He’s been enthralled by…” Giles pulled a face. “By Dracula.”

“Dracula? He’s real?” Joyce’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement.

Giles nodded as he dialled Willow and Tara’s dorm number. “Yes, he is.”

“Do you think he may have something to do with…”

“Oh!” Giles interrupted. “You maybe right! Records suggest he has magical gifts…”

Joyce gasped. “My baby girl! He might have done something to her!”

“Let’s not worry until we have to, Joyce,” Giles murmured soothingly. “Ah, Willow, do you…good you both remember…could you possibly come over to Buffy’s and collect Anya as well?” Giles nodded. “Good and please hurry.”

Spike pulled the Desoto up to the sidewalk and turned off the engine. He turned to the comatose girl laying on the backseat. “Stay here, Sweets. I’ll just nip in and nick some of your bits and bobs. Back in a tick.”

Spike slid out of the car and locked it. He melted into the shadows and approached the house cautiously. He could hear Joyce and Giles talking in the sitting room. He climbed the trellis ‘Feel like a ponce crawling into a girl’s room, trying to avoid the parents,’ he thought wryly as he pulled himself quietly into Buffy’s room. Moving swiftly, the blond vampire pulled out a suitcase.

Spike crept around the room, filling the suitcase with clothes and bits of frippery, all things he knew his new Childe would need. He paused for a moment, shaken to the core at the thought. He had a Childe.

He shook himself and then continued to gather some underwear; he resisted sniffing them and stuffed them into the case. Moving quickly, he grabbed a framed photo of Joyce and tucked it into the suitcase. His azure eye twinkled at the sight of Mr. Gordo sitting primly on Buffy’s pillow. He reached out and pocketed the small pig. Reaching under the mattress, he pulled out Mr. Pointy and Buffy’s diary.

He disappeared out of the window and into the night.

Joyce looked up with a frown. “Did you hear something?”

Giles rose from the couch and moved quickly to the stairs. “Stay here,” he ordered as he disappeared up the stairs.

Hesitantly, the Watcher pushed open the door to Buffy’s room. His tired eyes scanned the room; nothing seemed to be out of place. The curtains blew in the wind so he walked over and shut the window. Scanning the garden, Giles failed to make out Spike’s dark clad form as he shrank behind the tall tree.

“Giles?” Joyce called from downstairs.

Shaking his head, the Englishman returned downstairs. “It was nothing, just the wind.”

Spike relaxed as he spotted Giles walking over to the couch. “That was close, mate!”

He popped the trunk and placed the suitcase next to the cooler of blood and his rucksack.

Slipping back into the car, the blonde vampire looked over to check on his sleeping companion. His eyes traced her soft, delicate features and red-tinged mouth. “It’ll be all right, pet. Spike’ll take care of you.” Unable to resist, he reached over and ran a finger over her cheek.

He turned and started the engine.

“Let’s get out of here, luv…”

The remaining Scoobies gathered at Revello Drive and were huddled together, researching. Tara and Willow snuggled on the armchair, trying to write a scrying Spell, one that would break through Dracula’s magicks.

Giles was pacing and talking to Anya, trying to reassure her that they would retrieve Xander. His irritation towards the ex-demon was poorly concealed, she still had not voiced any concern over Buffy’s absence.

Joyce had retreated to the kitchen to have some time to gather herself. She blindly prepared sandwiches and brewed coffee.

A quiet knock on the back door made her jump. Rushing over, a hopeful smile on her face, Joyce pulled the door open. Her shoulders sagged in disappointment at the sight of Riley’s bland face.

“Oh…I was hoping it was Buffy.” Joyce stood back and allowed the ex-soldier to come in.

“So still no sign of her?” Riley asked as he reached over for a sandwich. He munched on it placidly.

Joyce glared at the unconcerned boy. “Riley, aren’t you concerned about your girlfriend’s disappearance?” She twisted her fingers together to stop herself from slapping his face.

“She’ll be okay, Mrs Summers. Buffy’s tough, she’s the Slayer.” Riley’s voice was tinged with a hint of jealously. He hated that Buffy was stronger than he, but dspite this, was drawn to the excitement of her supernatural life. Anyway, he had his extra curricular activities which added spice to his life.

“Hmm…” Joyce reached over, picked up the tray of food and drinks and brushed past Riley. She noticed the poorly concealed bite marks on his neck and paused. “Riley, you’ve been hurt!” She put the tray down and reached over to Riley’s neck.

“I’m okay. A vamp just got lucky on patrol!” Riley batted her hand away as he lied.

Joyce’s eyes narrowed as her inbuilt lie detector kicked in. She decided not to say anything to Riley until she had spoken to Giles about the situation. “As long as you are okay.”

Riley nodded as he adjusted his turtleneck. “I’m fine, let’s not say anything. It’s not as important as finding Xander and Buffy.” He reached over and took the tray and disappeared into the sitting room.

“Too ruddy right we are!” Spike glared at the sign and pressed his boot-clad foot down on the accelerator. The Desoto roared as the sign was flattened under its tyres. Spike suppressed the urge to howl as he usually did, he was acutely aware of the slumbering Slayer. Spike watched as the road stretched endlessly before him. He sped up, wanting to get to the cabin before Buffy woke from her magically enforced slumber.

“Anything girls?” Joyce looked hopefully at Tara and Willow.

“I…we think that maybe this’ll get through whatever Dracula has cast over his c…castle.” Tara held out a sheet of paper covered in Willow’s neat handwriting.

“We’ll find Buffy, Mrs. Summers, I promise.” Willow slid inelegantly out from under Tara and stood. “We need something personal of Buffy’s. Can I go get something from her room?”

“Certainly, be my guest.” Joyce sat down tiredly. Riley shifted away from the older woman, giving her some room.

“I really think we should try this spell on Xander, too,” Anya whined petulantly.

“We will, Anya, but we also need to find Buffy, so please be patient. At least we’ve seen Xander, unlike Buffy.” Giles glared at his employee, exasperated.

“Yeah, we really have to find Buffy, I’m very worried about her,” Riley added.

Willow and Anya’s eyes narrowed at the false sincerity in Riley’s voice. For a brief second, their eyes met and they were in agreement. Something was up with the tall man. Anya sniffed delicately and her eyes widened. Her head shot up and she stared pointedly at Willow, subtly gesturing to the dining room.

“What?” Willow hissed at the dark blonde ex-demon.

“He stinks of sex,” Anya whispered back.

Willow green eyes widened in shock. “Are you sure? Scratch that, of course you’re sure!”

Both young women turned on their heels and glared at Riley, who, unaware, was flipping through a book, one hand on his neck, where he absently rubbed the most recent bites.

Anya’s sharp nails dug into Willow’s arm when she grabbed her. “Look,” she hissed.

“What?” Willow whispered.

“He’s been bitten…again,” Anya slapped her hand over her mouth.

“Again?” Willow looked over at Anya. “What do you mean, again?”

Anya looked guilty. “Well…I saw…umm… a bite on his wrist a few weeks ago and he passed it off as a patrolling injury. But now…I wonder.”

“Wonder what?” Willow was genuinely confused.

“He stinks of sex and has another set of teeth marks. Unless Buffy’s not telling us something, then I guess Riley has been going down to the docks and…” Anya’s usual candour fled at the look of surprise and anger in Willow’s eyes.

“He’s been what? Getting it on with vampy Ho-bags?” Willow squeaked.

Anya nodded enthusiastically, relieved that Willow had worked it out.

“What do we do?” Willow hissed.

“Do about what, honey?” Tara asked as she stepped into the dining room.

Anya and Willow jumped and tried not to look furtive.

“Tara, sweetie, there’s something going on with Riley,” Willow whispered as she took Tara’s hand in hers.

“You mean the bite marks?” Tara asked shrewdly.

“How did you?” Anya yelped.

“I just spotted them.” Tara shuddered.

“Ick!” Willow added.

“What do we do?” Anya asked

“Nothing. Now is not the time.” Giles stepped into the room, joining the three girls.

All three women looked shocked.

“I know, but we need to focus on Buffy and Xander. Riley’s proclivities for being bitten will be addressed, but not now.” Giles took off his glasses and began to polish them.

“So you know about his addiction?” Anya queried.

“Sadly, not until now. What was he thinking? He could have been turned and then been a danger to Buffy and all of us!” Giles exploded. All three of the girls rushed over shhhing him. “Sorry, he really is a foolish boy. I have heard of places where vamps exchange sex and biting for money…but I didn’t realise that such a place had sprouted up here in Sunnydale…” He shook his head. “Very disappointing behaviour, I would have thought Riley would know better…”

“Here we go. Home sweet, well cabin…” Spike cut the engine off and turned to see if Buffy was awake. “Still off in the land of nod? Fair enough, sweets.”

Spike slipped out of the car and closed the door gently, unwilling to disturb his precious cargo. He emptied the trunk and deposited the various items inside the front door. He turned and walked back to the car. Reaching in, he gently pulled Buffy’s limp form into his arms. Spike brushed her fair hair off her face and sighed. A sick lump of worry settled in the pit of his stomach, something that was alien to Spike.

“Look, sweetness, it’s a lovely place.” Spike turned to look at the cosy wood cabin. It was a bolthole he had bought years back when he and Dru had first arrived in Sunnydale. It had a rustic charm that bordered on kitsch. A large porch ran around the entire cabin, offering shade during the day for those with a sensitive disposition for the sun. Climbing roses covered the front of the house and their delicate scent filled the warm night air. In front of the cabin was a large pond, bordered with reeds and wild flowers. Spike had used the place as a haven when Dru had become too much for him to handle. Spike had money but he chose not to be extravagant. Well, except for here.

Over the past year he had returned and updated the interior, adding a large kitchen and all mod cons. His prized TV and stereo system had been installed after a lucrative win at a poker game.

“Come on, let’s get you settled.” Spike climbed the stairs and pushed open the front door. It shut behind the two vampires with a quiet click.

Spike stalked through the large main room carrying Buffy. He cradled his precious burden against his black clad chest, glancing down at her sleeping features.

The open room had a massive fireplace at one end with several large, soft armchairs and a long, plush sofa facing it. The coffee table was an ornate wrought iron with a sheet of heavy glass over the delicate metalwork, which had been forged into a mass of twisting metal vines and leaves. There were bookshelves covering most of the walls and they were filled to overflowing with a mish-mash of antique leather bound books and modern paperbacks.

The wooden staircase to the right of the room lead to a gallery that ran the length of the house. There were several doors facing into the room, which lead off from it. The open plan kitchen sat under the gallery and was divided off from the room by a Walnut dining table and chairs. The stainless steel kitchen was at odds with the warm homey charm of the rest of the cabin. The only other touch of modernity visible in the room was the entertainment centre that Spike had installed in the last year.

The predominant colours of the fabrics on the furniture and window were deep crimson brocade that was trimmed with a darker maroon velvet banding. Tossed casually over the back of the sofa were several ethnic throws, which complimented the cushions scattered along the length of the couch. It was a warm haven for all who were welcomed there, completely at odds with the persona that it’s owner presented to the outside world.

Candles littered every available surface and above their heads was a gilded ormolu chandelier, which had been converted to electricity. Spike grabbed the suitcase he had packed for Buffy, carrying it and the still sleeping girl up the stairs.

He hesitated at the door to his room, unsure if she would want to wake in the lion's den. Spike sighed and kicked the door open. ‘She needs her rest…’ Dropping the awkwardly held suitcase to the floor, the tired vampire headed into the en-suite bathroom.

"Best get you cleaned up, pet." Spike glanced down at Buffy. The relaxed expression on her face made him smile sadly. He was acutely aware that she wouldn't find much peace once she awoke. Spike hoped he was up to the task of helping her make this transition…

He shifted Buffy in his arms and reached down to turn on the taps. Water began to fill the Victorian roll top freestanding tub. Spike then hesitated, unsure as to what to do. He instinctively knew that his Slayer would want to wash off Dracula’s presence from her body, but that would mean stripping her. Somehow he doubted the usually antagonistic Slayer would appreciate him ogling her goodies. Spike groaned, hating that he was caught in a moral dilemma, he was unused to having to consider all the moral angles. He was more of an attack first and then think later kinda vamp.

Which had lead to some of his more embarrassing failures. Usually at the hands of the tiny woman held reverently his arms.

Spike sighed, reached over and twisted off the taps. "Promise not to peek, luv," Spike whispered. "Well, not much. " He smirked.

Spike’s pale hands deftly stripped the white, toga-style dress off Buffy's body, revealing her perfect, pale-skinned form to Spike. His eyes widened at the sight of her small breasts topped with pale pink nipples, which had firmed in the coolness of the bathroom.

"Christ, love, you're gorgeous." Spike swallowed and then clenched his teeth. His hands fisted as he tried to force himself not to touch her soft skin.

Spike scanned her body, checking for injuries. Silently vowing that for any bite marks scratch or bruise Drac had left on the turned Slayer, he would pay. In full…

Spike's full mouth tightened at the sight of Drac’s finger marks on her hips and inner thighs. "Betcha fought him tooth and nail, though. Don't worry, luv, we'll get you cleaned and rested. After that, the Eurotrash vamp better watch out.” Spike knew that despite the easy camaraderie that he and Drac had shared, the sight of Buffy's bruised body had cancelled out any friendship.

Dracula would pay for his many transgressions. Slowly and painfully, Spike promised to himself.

The distraught vampire carefully deposited Buffy in the warm water and reached for a sponge. "Let’s get you washed up and then we can tuck you into bed. I'm sure you need some rest."

Gently, Spike began to wash Buffy's lax form.

His left hand cradled the back of her neck gently, holding her face out of the water.

From his years of tending to Drusilla, Spike was experienced in bathing women. He deftly washed away the dried remnants of Dracula's seed, his fingers impersonal. Spike's blue eyes darkened with lust at the sight of the neatly trimmed dark curls at the apex of Buffy's thighs, but the blond vampire suppressed his feelings. He was very aware that they would not be welcomed. Unlike Angelus, he preferred his sexual partners awake and willing.

Cupping Buffy's small head in his hand, Spike carefully cleaned his blood from her full lips. He was mesmerised by the tiny white fangs that were revealed. He looked at her face, amazed that she had no lumpies. "You probably don’t want to hear this, but you’re probably the most gorgeous vampire ever, luv. Never thought Drac could pass on his vampiric attributes." Spike ran his fingers over her unlined forehead and, unable to resist, he leant over and brushed a gentle kiss to her soft skin. At the touch of his lips, Buffy's small fangs automatically retracted, responding to her Sire’s touch.

Spike quickly washed her hair and then pulled her out of the tub, wrapping her in soft, white towels. The vampiric nursemaid dried her lax form and carried her into the bedroom.

"Just rest here for a bit, Sweets, while I get your nightie." Spike deposited her towel-wrapped form on his king-size bed. Turning, he searched through the suitcase he had packed for her, pausing to pull Mr. Gordo from his duster pocket. Tucking him safely under one arm, Spike searched for her nightclothes.

"Balls, luv, I'm sorry." He turned to Buffy supine form. "I forgot to pack any nightclothes. Will one of my T-shirts do?" Spike pulled open a drawer and extracted one of his many interchangeable black t-shirts. He snagged a pair of her cotton panties and quickly dressed her.

"There you go. Let’s get you to bed now." Spike quickly tucked her under the navy blue comforter and sheets. He slipped Mr. Gordo under her chin. "You rest a bit while I get us settled." Spike hesitantly reached over and brushed her damp hair off her forehead. "Better get a fire going in here."

Moving swiftly, Spike lit the prepared fire in the fireplace at the end of the bed. The flames flickered to life, illuminating their room with a golden glow. It was decorated much in the style of the rest of the cabin, rich navies and crimson fabrics. At the foot of the bed was a chaise lounge, which faced the crackling fire. There was a massive oak armoire and bedside tables. Other than that, there were several oil paintings on the walls and shelves of books and CD's. Gilded wall scones on the wall were filled with half melted candles. The windows that ran the length of the wall on the right were covered with heavy, velvet curtains. It was a comfortable room, which had been decorated with care.

Willow, Tara, Anya and Giles all stood in the dining room.

"Giles, we need to say something soon. You know that they get addicted to the bites and the rush from bloodletting," Anya hissed.

Willow and Tara gasped.

"I know, Anya, but we need to find Buffy and rescue Xander." Giles sighed tiredly.

"Oh! I was going to get something of Buffy's for the scrying spell." Willow slipped out of Tara's embrace and trotted up the stairs.

"So...Mr. Giles, do we act as if we haven't noticed?" Tara asked hesitantly.

Giles nodded, tiredly. He was aware that Buffy would be devastated by the ex-Initative soldier's behaviour. But he imaged it would be brief as she had never really invested herself completely in the relationship. "Yes, we must be on our guard, all of you must never invite him into your homes. If he asks, then we will know if it’s too late. It's a worrying situation, I'm truly disappointed with him." He pulled off his glasses, but before he could clean them, Anya took them from his hand and slipped them back on his face. Giles blinked and smiled at his employee.

"With who?" Riley's amiable voice behind them caused Anya and Tara to jump.

"Uh, Xander," Tara offered weakly.

"Oh, right." Riley nodded. "Was wondering what all the secrecy was about." He laughed and turned back to the sitting room and re-joined a silent Joyce, who eyed his neck and glared at him.

Willow returned to the sitting room where everyone was gathered, her face ashen. "Guys, I think maybe something happened to Buffy."

"What do you mean?" Giles leant forward.

"Well, Mr. Gordo, some of her clothes and her diary are missing," Willow whispered.

"Don't be silly, Willow. I saw Mr. Gordo there earlier." Joyce trailed off. "Wait! Someone was here earlier, then!"

"The window was open, but unfortunately I didn't have the presence of mind to check the room for missing articles of clothing and stuffed toys." Giles shoulders drooped. "I've let her down again."

"Maybe she ran away?" Riley suggested, unaware of how sensitive a subject that was.

"No, it was Spike. I saw him here earlier, he was carrying a suitcase and got into his car," a new voice interrupted before anyone could call Riley on his callous comment.

"Dawn, you should be in bed!" Joyce stood.

Willow, Anya, Giles and Tara all stared blindly at the girl and then, in unison, blinked.

"Dawnie, what did you see, sweetie?" Tara asked. Her and the other’s momentary adjustment to the first appearance of Dawn Summers was over and they all acted on the false memories and suggestions implanted by the Monks.

Dawn sat on the stairs, her long arms wrapped around her coltish legs. Enjoying the limelight, she grinned. "I saw Spike sneak out of Buffy's room a while ago with her suitcase, he got into that way cool car of his and drove off."

"Spike!" Riley snarled. "I'll go check on his crypt and see what he's up to." With that, the tall soldier ran out of the house.

"Wait! Don't you want to see what the spell shows?" Willow called forlornly after his disappearing form.

"Don't fall on any fangs while you're out!" Anya called cheerfully.

"Spell, cool. Can I watch?" Dawn leapt up and rushed over to the table. She began poking the various ingredients. "Hey, what did you mean don't fall on any fangs?" She asked Anya curiously.

For the next few minutes, Giles explained carefully their suspicions about Riley and extracted promises from both Dawn and Joyce to never openly invite him in. Of all of them, they were the most vulnerable, neither of them having any powers of their own to protect them. Joyce had voiced her concerns over Riley when he had arrived earlier this evening, and Giles commended her on her caution.

"Spike!" Riley shouted as he kicked open the door of the crypt.

"Ahh!" Harmony shrieked and dropped her magazine.

Riley stalked over to the blonde vampire and hauled her up. "Where is he?"

"I have no idea...I came back and he was gone!" Harmony squeaked, her fear making her forget she was stronger than the enraged man shaking her. "Lemme go, you’re hurting me!"

Riley shook her again. "You're a vampire, you stupid girl, only this hurts!" With that he pulled out a stake and slammed it into her heart. Riley dusted his hands off and smiled at the pile of dust at his feet, secretly pleased that he had staked Spike's girlfriend.

"Willow, try it again," Giles stared at the un-charred map, mystified.

"I don't understand, Giles, she can't have disappeared completely!" Willow reached over for another handful of powder. She pulled a few more blonde hairs from the comb she had found on Buffy's vanity and began to chant again.

None of them realised that the map was only for Sunnydale and it's immediate surroundings. Buffy was miles from home and safe from any scrying spells.

Dawn curled up against her Mom and her head nodded as she dozed off. She had been thrilled to be included in the Scooby meeting, but it was late and she was exhausted.

Willow slammed her hands down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work!"

"Okay, enough, everyone needs to calm down." Joyce sat forward. "I think as much as I want to find Buffy now, Willow and Tara need some rest. You're welcome to stay here, I'm sure Buffy won't mind if you sleep in her bed. Anya, there's an inflatable mattress which we can set up in Dawn's room and Giles, if you don't mind, you can sleep on the sofa." She looked over at everyone and waited.

"We can't all impose, Mrs. Summers." Tara whispered.

"Yes, you can. I don't want to be alone and I'm sure that for now we need to be together until we can get Buffy and Xander home safe." Joyce suppressed her tears, trying to put on a brave face for her daughter’s friends.

"Cool! Anya gets to stay with me!" Dawn yawned and stretched. She knew that if she asked the frank ex-demon anything she would be overwhelmed with details, which no one else would volunteer.

Moving quickly, Joyce locked up the house and settled everyone for the night.

When Riley returned from Spike's crypt, the house was dark and silent. He tried the doors and, when he couldn't get in, he returned to his apartment.

Spike sat tiredly facing the large fire he built in the fireplace in the main room. The flickering flames lit his angular face, casting his eyes into shadows. The Master Vampire sat thinking about the dramatic events of the night. He was still in shock over the sight of his Slayer in Dracula's mansion. He couldn't fathom why he had rescued her; he ignored the persistent little voice at the back of his mind. 'Well, you love her, you ponce.'

He raised his glass to his lips and downed the rest of the JD. Reaching over, he grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. During his ruminations he kept one ear trained on his guest. The blond vampire had managed to restrain himself so far; but the rage was building in him. He wanted, no, needed to rip something or someone apart.

He needed revenge for Buffy.

Spike growled deep in his chest. He stood and stormed into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, he grabbed a bag of blood and poured some into a mug to heat. He leant on the counter watching the ceramic mug turning in the microwave, pulling it out and gulping it down once it was heated. Rinsing the mug, he left it on the draining board. Leaving the house, Spike loaded up on firewood and pinecones. The vampire took several trips before he was satisfied there was enough for the next few days. Leaving the front door open, he sank down and sat on the top step, watching the moonlight flicker on the pond in front of him.

"No point running off and pickin a fight. Wot you gonna fight with out here, anyway, a rabid beaver?" Spike sighed and trudged back into the cabin, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He climbed the stairs and stood outside the master bedroom. His hand hovered over the handle, unsure whether or not to go in. "Suck it up, you ninny, she's gonna need you." With that, Spike slipped into the room. Stoking the fire, he added more logs to last the rest of the night. He glanced over at Buffy and took in her sleeping face. Scrubbing his hand tiredly over his face, the vampire stood and disappeared into the bathroom.

Stripping mechanically, Spike dropped his clothes on the floor, then stepped into the power shower and turned on the water. He rested his hands on the tiled wall, letting the water stream down his face. Dropping his head, the hot water poured down his back, easing the tension in his shoulders. Steam filled the room as he washed away the grime of the last few days. Spike missed having a shower in the crypt, but had never bothered to change anything in the gloomy tomb; there had been no point, he wanted to wallow in discomfort. He was secretly relieved that Buffy’s predicament had jolted him out of his despair over being chipped. But at the same time, felt guilty…

Wrapping a towel around his waist and using another to dry his hair, Spike sauntered into the bedroom.

"Better find something to wear, can't be exposing myself to you, can I, Slayer?" Spike commented as he pulled out a pair of boxers. Dropping the towel to reveal his muscled backside and legs, he bent and pulled on the cotton underwear.

"Hope you're not a blanket hog, luv," Spike continued his one sided conversation as he slipped under the covers. He carefully lay down. Turning on his side, he laid there watching his sleeping bedmate for several minutes until he drifted off into a deep sleep.

Buffy sighed in her sleep and rolled over, draping herself over his cool body. She snuggled her face into his neck, her lips resting over the healing cut that she had drank from earlier in the night.

Buffy snorted and buried her face closer to the cool chest she was draped over. Spike's arms tightened around her in his sleep and cradled her close. Buffy yawned slightly and stretched, nuzzling her face against the hard wall of muscles.

"Mmm." She wriggled her feet between Spike's and sighed happily.

For several minutes there was silence, until she gradually woke. Raising her head sleepily, Buffy blinked in surprise at the sight of Spike's sleeping face. She could feel one of his hands under her nightshirt and pressed against the small of her back. She squeaked, embarrassed and confused as to why she was in Spike's arms and his bed.

Her little noise woke the male vampire and he yawned and opened his eyes. Spike froze at the sight of Buffy's alert, hazel eyes gazing up at him from her position on his chest.

"Buffy?" His voice rumbled in his chest, sending tingles down her spine.

"Spike? What's going on? Why are we all with the snuggles?" Buffy's voice trailed off as she began to remember. Her face paled even more and her eyes flashed lavender as her emotions got the better of her. "Oh, my God...no...no...no!" She began to struggle.

Spike's arms tightened around her slight form, he pulled her close, trying to soothe her. "Slayer, Buffy, luv, m' sorry, had no idea if I had I would've got there quicker." He whispered into her hair as she slumped against him, weeping.

"Spike, why? Why would Xander do this?" she wept.

"Dunno, pet." Spike was at a loss as to what to say or do.

"Oh, my God! I'm a vampire!" Buffy wailed.