Chapter 8



“Angelus.”

The brunette rose from the wheelchair slowly and made his way towards his grandchilde with a predatory purpose. Spike had seen that look in his eyes before and he found himself frozen in place as his grandsire approached.

“What I would like to know,” Angelus began, as he started circling his grandchilde, “is how long you have been able to walk exactly? I mean, it sort of explains a lot of the things that have been happening around here lately.”

“Yeah? How so?” Angel ignored Spike’s question as he came to stand before him again and gave him a mockingly friendly smile.

“See I wasn’t sure at first, but then I smelt your scent all over the Slayer’s back porch, and you know as well as I do that you can’t fake someone’s scent. See I think you’ve been able to walk for quite some time now. Helped the Slayer escape, and now you’ve got your foot in the door with her.”

“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”

“She’s mine, boy.” Spike smirked as he realised that Angel only thought he had been getting it on with the Slayer. Better that than the truth. “She is my childe. You have no right to her without my permission.” It was on the tip of Spike’s tongue to yell at Angelus and tell him that Buffy wasn’t his childe—that she wasn’t even a vampire. For what reason other than to rebel against his pig headed sire he didn’t know, but he held his tongue. He didn’t even know what she was yet. “They’re both mine, Spike. They belong to me and always will, you‘re nothing but an object to pass the time.”

Spike smirked to cover up the deep chord of hurt Angelus’ last statement had caused within him. “One I seem to remember you taking quite a bit of enjoyment out of in the past.”

“I never said you weren’t mine as well.” Spike tried to hold back his flinch as Angelus brought his hand up to run his fingers along the dominating bite mark that still adorned Spike’s neck. He had been young and easily dominated by the elder vampire when it occurred. It had been something that haunted him endlessly over the past century—that by vampire law he belonged to Angelus.

A growl was torn unconsciously from Spike’s throat and he pulled back from his grandsire’s touch. Angelus’ eyes hardened as he pulled his hand back and roughly punched the younger vampire in the face.

“Never forget who you belong to, boy. You are mine, and you always will be.” Spike growled and morphed into game face, his amber eyes glinting at his grandsire’s cold hard brown ones. He twisted his head to the side, abruptly cracking his neck before smirking up at his grandsire.

“Why don’t we look into remedying that then?” Angelus’ own features shifted into that of amusement.

“You mean to challenge my claim over you, Willy?” Spike arched his eyebrow at him in a sarcastic manner. “You won’t win. You never have, what will make this time any different?”

“Because this time I want it.”


***


Buffy stood up abruptly from the sentry position she had taken up on the chair across from the couch. A deep growl emerged from within her as she shifted into her demonic features.

“Buffy?” Her softly glowing eyes shifted to a slowly waking Giles as he sat up on the couch. “What’s wrong? Is there someone out there?” She shook her head.

“No, it’s Spike. I can feel him somehow… he’s in vamp mode. He needs help.” She started quickly for the door grabbing her coat and a stake of the table as she went.

“You can’t mean to go after him. Buffy, it’s Spike!” She barely paused in her stride at his fervent whisper.

“I know.” She replied as she paused at the door giving him a look that told him she would explain everything when she returned. “Stay here and make sure everyone’s safe. Nothing should be able to get in the house while I’m gone. If they do, get everyone into the basement. I won’t be long.”

Giles watched helplessly as his charge opened the door and ran off into the night to help save a vampire, albeit one who was helping them in the fight to bring down Angelus, but a soulless monster all the same.

He tore his glasses from his face as he stared at the closed door and began polishing them rapidly on his nightshirt. Could his life be anymore confusing?


***


Both vampires had removed their jackets and shirts so they stood before each other in only their pants and shoes. Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath as he and Angelus moved back into the centre of the room and started circling one another.

“Are you ready, boy?” Spike smirked and nodded as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and waited for his grandsire to throw the first punch as vampire lore demanded.

As soon as he saw Angelus’ fist coming he ducked under it and swung a right upper cut punch into his grandsire’s stomach. Angelus let out an ‘oof’ as the unnecessary air was expelled from his lungs and he doubled over.

“Getting slow in your old age, mate?” Spike asked with a chuckle as he danced back out of the way again. Growling in irritation, Angelus shot Spike a look that promised much pain if Angelus were to win the fight.

“Wouldn’t be fair if I beat the shit out of you without you even getting a punch in.” Spike smirked as Angelus unfolded himself again and dove at the younger vampire.

Angelus easily blocked Spike’s counterattack before swinging at Spike a second time. The blonde vampire dodged it easily, ending up behind his grandsire before sending a heavily booted foot into the back of his knee. “Always wanted to see you on your knees before me.”

Angelus growled, sending an elbow back into Spike’s gut before jumping to his feet, spinning and sending the back of his hand across the blonde’s face. “All you had to do was ask, Willy.”

Spike blocked Angelus’ hitch kick by grabbing his foot and flipping him over. Angelus rolled over onto his back while still on the floor and sent his feet into Spike’s stomach, propelling him backwards.

“Why don’t you just face it? You’re never going to beat—” Punch. Dodge. Kick. Block. Feint. Kick. “me.” Angelus laughed, sending his booted foot into the side of Spike’s ribs harshly. He smiled sinisterly as the smaller vampire was sent flying across the room to land heavily against a dresser.

Angelus casually strolled over to where Spike was sprawled out on the floor, hauling him up and sending a fist into his face followed by smashing a knee into Spike’s gut. ‘Just one good blow to the lower spine should be enough to incapacitate him again,’ Angelus thought. He knew Spike hadn’t had a decent feed in months. It would only take one good blow for him to be crippled again.

Spike winced on impact before letting a mask of indifference fall firmly across his face and using his crouched position to his advantage by kicking the poof’s legs out from underneath him.

“Fat lady ain’t singing yet, Peaches.” He sent a knee into Angelus’ stomach and an elbow back across his face as he stood up again. Dodge. Block. Hit. Dodge. Block. Dodge. Block. Spin. Kick. “Argh!”

Angel let a twisted grin grace his face at the agonised cry that had been torn from Spike’s lips. The vampire instantly buckled under his weight as his legs gave out from underneath him.

“Willy, Willy, Willy. What did I tell you, hmm?”

“I don’t know, but I’m telling you to get away from him.” Both vampires snapped their heads up to look at Buffy standing in the door way.

“Hello, my childe,” Angel replied, instantly dropping Spike and letting him slump to the floor as he stalked towards his errant childe. Desire flared within him with her once more in his presence; she called to him like no other.

“Angelus.” Buffy watched the lust flare up in his eyes as they trailed over her body before finally coming to rest on her face. Despite what she had once believed she would feel when she was in his presence again, mind numbing fear wasn’t on the list. She could feel her rage simmering beneath the surface of her skin, but it was held tightly in check as memories of what he had done to her flashed across her mind.

Angel chuckled as he sauntered closer to her. Buffy shuddered and grit her teeth as her hands instinctively curled themselves into fists. She waited until he came even closer. ‘Just two more steps,’ she told herself.

Buffy let her fists fly as soon as Angelus was within range, the force of her swing sending him flying back to smack harshly against the concrete wall.

“I challenge your claim over Spike.”
 

Chapter Nine



“I challenge your claim over Spike.”

A wave of shock swept through Buffy even as she uttered the sentence. She what? Claiming Spike? It would bind them together indefinitely. Spike would become part of every aspect of her life unless he challenged her claim like he had done with Angel. What the hell was she thinking?

Buffy tried to school her features to not show the shock she felt at herself. She had said it now, and to back down would let Angelus know she was second guessing herself. She bit back her nervousness and looked straight into his shocked and oddly proud eyes. She could do this.

She glanced across at the stunned vampire that was sitting in a heap on the floor, staring at her through shocked and pain laced eyes. She wasn’t used to seeing Spike broken. He was the cocky self-assured vampire that she could never kill. Now though, he looked almost like a little boy from his slumped position on the floor, back supported against his dresser and his useless legs tucked up under his weight. Yes, she could do this.

A pregnant silence hung over the room as each of its occupants came to terms with what Buffy had said. She meant it—meant every word—and there was a determination in her eyes that said she was going to do everything in her power to make sure she won.

The silence was finally broken as an amused and slightly hysterical chuckle cut through the air like a volley of bullets from a machine gun. Angelus ambled upright from his slumped position against the wall.

He brought his thumb to the corner of his mouth and wiped the small trickle of blood away before sucking it off his finger. His eyes never lost contact with Buffy’s and his amused smile grew as she averted her gaze.

“You challenge my claim over Spike?” Angel’s voice rose from a characteristic sarcastically sincere tone, a hallmark of Angelus’, to a whole new level as he considered the ramifications of Buffy’s statement. “You challenge my claim over Spike?”

Buffy arched an eyebrow at him and tilted her head in a manner so eerily reminiscent of the broken vampire on the floor that Spike cracked a smile.

“Yeah” She stated simply as if it were the only obvious and logical answer.

“Why?” Good question. Why did she want to save Spike from his grandsire so badly? She hadn’t even thought when she ran out the door to help him, she had just grabbed her jacket and run from the house. It was only as she drew closer that she was somehow able to ‘feel’ what was happening. She couldn’t argue that she needed Spike to help defeat Angelus, that wouldn’t go over well.

“I want him,” she said simply, not offering any further explanation. Angelus arched an eyebrow at her.

“You want him?” He growled when Buffy failed to respond. “He’s mine, childe. He belongs to me and always will. Step down,” he ordered, using his sire’s voice on the last command. A slow smirk spread over Buffy’s lips.

“No,” she replied, feeling none of the binding effects Angelus should have had over her.

Angelus’ countenance instantly darkened in the face of her defiance. The fact that she could overcome a command directly issued by her sire only a week after being turned was unheard of. Despite the rage he felt building within him, Angelus couldn’t help the sliver of pride that worked its way in at having produced such a magnificent demon.

He stalked over to her quickly and grasped her around the throat tightly forcing her head to tilt back and lifting her off of the ground.

“I said, stand down, childe. You dare defy me?” Glaring down at him as best she could, she tried to look defiant as she managed to croak out the word ‘no’ again. He growled and tightened his grip at the same moment she swung her fist.

Buffy’s hand contacted with the side of Angelus’ head harshly with a dull thud and brought his demon out as he snapped his head back to look at her sharply with a savage growl, only to be met by her fist once more.

Growling savagely he lowered her slightly and drew his spare arm back and punched her with enough force that had she been human her neck would have snapped.

Breaking his hold she quickly snapped her fist back and aimed for his face. Her punch was blocked with a hand as Angelus brought his knee up harshly to connect with her stomach causing her to double over.

Angelus’ demon was in heaven as he hauled her to her feet again and backhanded her across the face…once….twice…

A fierce growl ripped through the room, stunning its occupants into silence once more as Buffy morphed into game face. She effortlessly broke Angelus’ grip before sending him flying across the room again by the use of a heavily planted foot to his chest.

Like always, the reaction was instantaneous as Spike morphed a split second after Buffy’s own transformation a possessive growl being torn from his lips closely followed by one from Angelus. Buffy quickly whipped around to quickly look at Spike, and felt her stomach drop at the hunger that had suddenly overcome his eyes.

Spike whimpered as Angelus launched himself in Buffy’s direction, catching her by surprise and pinning her to the ground. Angelus’ demon was screaming at him to possess this creature, make her his for eternity. Her demon sung to him, seduced him like a siren and he was helpless to stop his reaction to her.

Buffy’s demon was panicking as Angelus forced her to the ground under his weight. Without thinking, she used all the strength she could muster to throw him off her as she scrambled to her feet. She raced over to Spike and scooped him up off the ground and threw him ungracefully over her shoulder as she ran for the door. She was sure that her heart would have been racing had it still been beating.

Angelus growled savagely and blocked her pathway to the door. Buffy growled back trying to force his demon to submit to hers as Spike’s had done, but Angelus’ demon refused to submit, it wanted to dominate her—possess her—where Spike’s had just wanted her.

Buffy felt a caged panic rapidly rising within her. She was trapped in the room with no accessible way to get them both out. Angelus advanced on her with a predatory look in his eyes.

“Dominate him,” she heard in a demon roughened voice from over her shoulder.

“What?” she asked almost desperately, wanting Spike to explain further.

“Overpower him, drain him into weakness.” Buffy hesitated. Could she do that? “Slayer! You have to do it, now’s not the time to get bloody squeamish.”

Quickly moving to the bed, she dropped Spike onto it as carefully as she could manage. A low possessive growl emerged from his throat as he stared at a slowly progressing Angelus.

Angelus snarled back at him and made to advance upon the vampire. He was stopped by a powerful fist to his face that sent him sprawling backwards. Buffy wasted no time, jumping on him and punching him in rapid succession across the face before finally moving in on his throat. She snarled as she opened her mouth and buried her fangs in his throat.

Angelus let out a howl of pain bucked and hardened beneath her. His sense of survival began to kick in as he growled and snapped savagely at her. His attempt grew weaker and weaker as she continued pulling the blood from his neck.

Angelus’ demon features slipped away as his eyelid fluttered and she finally pulled back.

“Bu…Buffy?” She paused at the whimpered pleading that sounded so much like the Angel she had known, the one she still loved. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth she forced herself to ignore it and she moved to the bed to scoop her vampire up. He wasn’t her Angel any more. And if he was, would she able to forgive him?

She pushed the thoughts from her head as she made her way to the exit, letting her demon features melt back into her human countenance. She had a vampire to take home and attend to.

Angelus didn’t move from his position on the floor until he could sense neither one of them any more, then gradually a slow sardonic smile began to spread across his face as a small weak chuckle burst from his lips. God she was magnificent! Despite his acute lack of blood he felt a distinct throbbing in his lower regions. He hadn’t though he could have wanted her any more than he already did, but now….

“Daddy?” Angelus let his head fall to the side slowly to take in the sight of his other childe as he used his claim over her to beckon her forward.

“Come give daddy some juice.” The vampiress obediently held out her wrist for her sire. Time to up the stakes. Buffy was his and he would make sure Spike knew it.

 

Chapter Ten



Giles’ eyes went wide as his Slayer walked in through the front door with a suspiciously Spike-shaped bundle slung over her shoulder.

“Buffy! What in God’s name…?” He trailed off unexpectedly at her hardened look.

“Giles, we have a problem.” He let out an uncharacteristic snort at that statement.

“You mean bigger than the return of Angelus and the plotting of our untimely deaths?” Buffy’s eyebrows snapped together in confusion. Had Giles just made a funny?

Upon seeing her shocked expression, Giles rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh as he took his glasses off his face and started polishing them rapidly. “Oh, bloody hell! What’s wrong now?”

Buffy shook off the uneasiness at hearing her Watcher make a joke, and turned her focus back to the present. “It’s not just Spike who is affected by my demon, seems Angelus goes all bumpy over me as well.”

“You think you could put me down, Slayer?” Spike’s question went unanswered as Buffy and Giles were swept up in the excitement of this new discovery. He let out a small growl—this was humiliating.

“Good lord! Angelus knows of your current physical status then?” Buffy quirked an eyebrow at that.

“If by physical status you mean ‘he knows I’m not a vampire’? Then yes.” Giles’ eyes went wide as he took in the information, looking more than a little intrigued and excited at the prospect of being able to consult his books and find the answer to the bizarre behaviour of the vampires’ demons in the presence of her own.

“I’d appreciate it if you put me the bloody hell down!” The irritation in Spike’s voice had risen to all new levels as he tried desperately to draw Buffy’s attention back to the fact that he was still slung over her shoulder with his arse in the air.

“And your demon had the same effect that it seemed to have on Spike?” Giles asked her, ignoring the vampire. Buffy nodded.

“Yep, he went all growly and possessive and tried to jump me. On the up side, though, he tried to use his sire voice on me and it didn’t work, so points in the plus column for that.” Giles’ eyebrows drew together and he nodded absently, his mind already wandering over the possibilities.

“Indeed,” he remarked as he replaced his glasses.

“You know what? Fine, just bloody well leave me here. It’s not like I mind having my arse floating about in the Watcher’s face. It is a nice arse after all, even if I do say so myself.” Buffy frowned and turned her head back over her shoulder.

“What the hell are you talking about?”


***


James shivered from his position crouched in a bush outside the Summers’ residence. He was going to kill whoever told him that working for the council would mean the most up-to-date technology and plush hotels. He was positive that whoever they were, they had never spent four hours straight hovering outside a window with little more than a over friendly cat and a pile of possum dung for company.

Almost every light on the first floor of the house was turned on, yet he hadn’t seen a grain of movement aside from the quick entry and exit of a blond headed man earlier that night. The man hadn’t stayed long enough to cause suspicion, and he was obviously welcome in the house from the way he just walked in.

He looked down at the photo he was clutching in his almost blue hands. Buffy Summers, Slayer belonging to the Council of Watchers. He snorted at that, ‘belonging to.’ Those bastards though they bloody well owned everything. Despite all that, however, he hadn’t seen even a glimpse of anyone who might fit that description.

Bringing his hands to his face, he blew the warm air of his breath into them and rubbed them together. California was supposed to be warm. He hated the cold; it was why he had volunteered for the job—to leave England. Now glancing down at the pile of dung to his right, he wondered why he had bothered.

Having come to a decision, James made to get up and leave just as the front door to the home swung open. He stopped dead in his tracks, still halfway between standing and sitting. His thigh muscles quivered with the effort to hold himself still as he waited for the person to exit the home. He was rewarded no more than a few seconds later as a small, blonde, female who looked to be a teenager took of at a jog down the street.

Scrambling around quickly, James made a grab for the photo he had in his pocket—they matched. Whipping out his mobile, he punched in the memorised number and brought the cell phone to his ear.

“She’s just been sighted.” Not waiting for any acknowledgement on the other end, he hung up the phone and replaced it, resigning himself to remain in position for the rest of the night.

As the evening wore on, fatigue eventually overtook James. He fell asleep outside of the Summers’ home and never saw when, a few hours later, the young girl returned with a crippled vampire slung over her shoulder.


***


“He needs blood.” Giles’ eyes rose suspiciously to meet Buffy’s. It was now 7 a.m. and he had spent the remainder of the night up with her, searching through volumes to see if he could find anything more on the effect she seemed to have over vampires, if Spike and Angelus were anything to go by.

“I’m sitting right here you know.” Buffy shot Spike a look before turning back to her Watcher.

“I’m assuming that you’re hinting for me to go get some?” A grin broke out across her face and she fluttered her eyelashes innocently at him “It’s light out. I don’t see why you can’t go get it yourself.”

“Giles! You know what happens when I’m in the sun! How am I meant to explain to the butcher why I look like a firefly?” Giles cringed slightly against the whine in her voice.

“Butcher! You’ve got to be kidding me! I ain’t bloody well drinking that swill.” Both sets of eyes turned on him. “What? You can’t honestly expect me to drink that shit. It will take me months to heal on that stuff.”

“Well what do you propose we do then? We’re not robbing a blood bank,” Giles retorted. Spike’s gaze slid smoothly from the Watcher over to rest on the Slayer. Her eyes instantly widened at the hungry look in his eyes as he eyed her neck.

“Oh, no! I don’t think so, Buster” His eyes slid up to hers; they had a sparkle of mischief in them with which she was beginning to grow familiar.

“Not going to return the favour, love?” Against her will, she felt her knees grow weak as he looked at her through long lashes and curled his tongue up behind his teeth to pull off a look that should be illegal—and probably was in some countries.

“The…favour? I had no control over that!” Buffy only just managed to keep the waver out of her voice. She began to squirm under Spike’s gaze as he kept his eyes pinned on her. “Giles!”

“Just feed him, Buffy!” Her eyes went wide as a huge smirk simultaneously broke out over Spikes face.

“What?” Giles shut his eyes tightly at her rather loud protest. He had gotten no more than a few hours sleep and this was more than he could deal with at that moment. “It’s not like he can kill you, and—dare I say it—Spike’s right, he won’t heal half as quickly on pig’s blood. We need him strong to help fight Angelus. He’s no good to us like this.”

Who was this man and what had he done with her Watcher? Did he even realise what he was telling her to do? He seemed to read her mind as he looked up at her once more.

“Yes, I do know what I am saying. He can’t kill you, so as far as I am concerned it’s perfectly safe.” A deep chuckle resounded throughout the room, which had Buffy’s knees weakening again. Stupid knees.

“You heard the Watcher, pet.” She scowled at Spike, shooting one last helpless look at her Watcher who had returned to looking over his books. Grudgingly she made her way over to Spike.

“He’ll probably make it hurt on purpose,” she muttered, as she moved to take the seat next to him, squeaking loudly when he grabbed her arm and pulled her down into his lap. Spike smirked as she shot another glare at him.

“What was that, pet?” He had heard perfectly well what she had said and he was going to take great pleasure in making sure that it had the complete opposite effect. Turning her around, he arranged her until she was straddling his lap.

“Is this really necessary?” He arched his eyebrow as he looked up at her.

“Easier access.” Buffy swallowed heavily at the not so subtle sexual undertones to that statement. Choosing to ignore it completely, she shifted her hair from the side of her neck where she had been bitten by both the Master and Angelus, and made sure to hold the majority of her weight off of him. Her thighs quivered under the strain, but she refused to give in knowing the minute she settled her weight onto him he would make some lewd remark.

Spike smirked again and pulled the hair back around to cover that side of her neck before uncovering the virgin side of her neck. She arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows at him but said nothing.

Buffy closed her eyes as he leaned in tensing in preparation for the bite. He didn’t bite immediately but instead ghosted his lips over the skin on her neck—barely touching her—caressing her with his lips.

Spike felt her quivering muscles slowly begin to relax as he continued his soft touches and kisses to the skin of her neck until she had rested her full weight on top of him. He resisted the urge to groan at the feel of her pressed up against him and instead swiped his tongue up the length of her neck before nuzzling his face into her as he shifted into game face.

When the bite finally came, Buffy barely felt the pinpricks of his fangs sliding effortlessly into her skin before an overwhelming sense of pleasure like nothing she had felt began to consumer her. Her unnecessary breathing instantly became heavy and ragged as her hands flew to Spike’s biceps to brace herself. He held her there for a moment—his fangs embedded in her skin—before slowly beginning to suck and draw blood from the wound.

Giles looked up from his books as a low, throaty moan resounded throughout the room. His eyes went wide at the sight that greeted him. Spike was doing more than just feeding from Buffy. She was straddling his lap with her head thrown back in ecstasy, and her long hair brushing against Spike’s thighs as she clutched at his upper arms. It was an image of his Slayer he had never wanted to see.

It was the deep moan that did it, though. Clearing his throat, Giles tried to draw their attention back to the present and avert his eyes at the same time. Maybe he should just leave the room. Making his decision quickly, he moved to scoop up his books just as the sound of heavy footfalls could be heard on the stairs and Xander walked back into the room.

“Oh, for the love of—why do I always have to walk in on this stuff?” Xander exclaimed. Throwing his hands up the air, the teen made a hasty retreat, Giles hot on his heels as he too made his way out of the living room.


 

Chapter Eleven



Joyce heaved a sigh of relief as she awoke. It was Saturday morning and none of her surrogate children had to be at school, Janice was running the gallery, and it was in the a.m. hours which therefore held no threat of vampire attacks.

She had no idea how Buffy had managed for the last two years. A little over a week and she could feel the fatigue pulling at her body from lack of sleep and the stress she held from keeping everything together. Maybe it was time to look into setting up a web server so she could work from home.

As much as her daughter protested about the idea when she had raised it a few nights ago, Joyce was going to have to look into home schooling. Being able to run the gallery from home could have its advantages. Plus it would expand her networks and bring in a pull of new artists.

Joyce rolled over in bed, making a mental check list of things she had to do as she checked the clock on her nightstand: 6:30 a.m. The house was quiet as its occupants slept on. The only one awake at this hour would be her daughter, dutifully keeping watch downstairs while her friends slept.

She knew there was more to it than that though. On her way down to get herself something to drink one night, she had stopped on the stairs to listen to her daughter’s muffled sobs coming from the living room. Joyce was about to go downstairs to console Buffy, but the minute she made a noise on the staircase, the crying had stopped. So, Joyce had let her be and silently made her way back up the stairs without her drink.

Now Buffy had a pet vampire to keep her company, though he had confined himself to the basement most of the time, to keep away from all their human-like behaviour. Joyce chuckled to herself at the thought of Spike; he really was charming in his own way, such a mixture of sensitivity, insecurity and the need to live up to his ‘big bad’ reputation.

She could see the man he held buried beneath his hardened exterior, and she supposed it was the reason he felt the need to lash out at all things human so much. He could still see a bit of William in himself and he didn’t like it. No, that wasn’t right, he didn’t want to like it—he didn’t want to want it to be part of him because it made him ‘weak’ in the eyes of his demon brethren.

Joyce giggled to herself. She was spending way too much time in the company of Giles.


***


Despite her lack of aversion to the sun, Buffy felt the soft hands of sleep calling her as the dawn broke outside. It had become almost like an automatic trigger inside her brain—dawn meant sunlight, sunlight meant no Angelus and no Angelus meant she could drop her guard long enough to get some sleep, even if it was only for an hour or two.

Buffy’s body had been running on adrenaline for the first few days, then on the acute need to know that she was doing everything possible to keep the threat of Angelus away from the ones she loved. As the days wore on and Angelus still hadn’t made a move to attack, she began to feel the effects the lack of sleep was having on her body.

She hadn’t eaten properly in days, neither blood nor the normal human food which her body still held the need for. But even the need to eat took backseat precedence over her body’s need for sleep.

As soon as dawn rolled around her body switched off, almost instantly falling into the deep sleep it craved.

That was how Joyce found her when she made her way down stairs. Joyce had stopped for a moment in the doorway—only slightly perturbed by her daughter’s complete and utter lack of movement, even the soft rise and fall of her chest. The memory of Giles telling that Buffy was virtually indestructible was enough to ease her discontent and her motherly instincts immediately kicked in.

Grabbing the comforter of the back of the couch Giles was sleeping on, Joyce walked over and covered her baby up. Perhaps Willow might be able to help her set up a website later today, she would even pay the redhead a small monthly wage to keep the site running and updated.

Having come to a decision, Joyce made her way into the kitchen to prepare a large breakfast for everyone. While she was in there she heated a mug of blood for her vampire house guest and left it on the top step of the basement stairs for him to collect when he was hungry. They had had a week to panic. Now it was time to pull together. They would accomplish nothing if they weren’t well rested and fed and it was time someone took those matters into hand.


***


‘Run. Don’t stop moving. Just keep going—ignore the pain.’

Her heavy foot falls pounded on the pavement, her breathing and heart beat erratic. Her lungs and legs muscles burned from exhaustion, and each fall of her foot seemed to come heavier than the last.

The long narrow pathway curled its way out before her, around hills and corners so that it was sometimes out of sight.

‘Don’t move off the path—don’t let it catch up to you.’

She rounded the bend and hesitated for a moment as the road split into to separate pathways.

‘Don’t stop moving.’

She gasped for breath and shot a look over her shoulder fleetingly before taking off down the path that curled to the left. The ground shuddered beneath her feet for a moment before becoming calm again. She lowered her head and picked up her pace.

“Excuse me?” Her head shot up at the sound of someone calling her. Her eyes scanned the area and came to rest on a man standing by the edge of the road dressed in a suit, white gloves, and a white mask that covered his eyes. “Miss Summers?”

Against her will her legs stopped running. “Yes?”

“You have to come with me. We’re here to help you.” Buffy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Help me?” The man before her held out his gloved hand.

“Yes, quickly now, come this way!” Warily she grasped the hand and immediately he began to pull her off the path and towards a clump of bushes.

‘Don’t move off the path.’

Panic gripped her and she dug her heels in trying to pull her hand from the man’s. He looked back at her and seemed to sense what had her panicking.

“Don’t worry, where here to help you. You’ll be safe with us, Miss Summers.” Buffy cast a nervous glance over her shoulder as the ground began to tremor gently again.

“No, let me go. I have to keep running!” His iron grip held tight.

“But you’ve been running for so long, aren’t you tired?”

“No!” She yelled as she wrenched her arm out of his and took off for the path at a sprint, even as the ground quaked beneath her. Panting heavily for air she threw herself back onto the winding track heedless of the shouts of ‘Miss Summers’ coming from behind her.

She could see a black clad figure in the distance. He was just standing patiently by the edge of the path, looking down the road towards her. As she got closer she could see it was Spike and he was waving to her as she drew near.

“Slayer—”

“Not now, Spike! We have to run!” She said as she pushed at him to run with her. The tremors in the ground had died down, but every second she stood still would make them closer to coming back.

“I know, kitten.” Buffy’s gaze shot to his.

“You know?” He nodded and took her into his arms. She looked up at him quizzically as he gently held her to him. “Spike, there’s something after me, I have to keep running.”

He smiled softly down at her. “The cake’s already baked. We just don’t know what the flavour is yet.”

“What? You’re not making sense,” she said as she turned her head to look back over her shoulder. She could already feel the light vibrations running up her legs.

“Sometimes you have to look beneath the mask that’s presented.” Her brows furrowed as she looked back up at him.

“Do you mean the men in the white masks? They were trying to help me?” He didn’t answer her. He just took as step back and held out his hand.

Buffy gasped as the image of Spike shifted and he became a man with honey blonde hair who wore glasses and was dressed in a suit. She realised as she stared at him in shock that this was William.

“Watch out!” She yelled as one of the white masked men came up behind him.

“You have to see past the mask, Buffy.” Buffy’s gazed bounced back to William before turning back on the man. She stared hard at him, willing herself to see behind the mask.

Slowly the image dissolved as she was staring a lightly balding older man. Another one walked up behind him, devoid of both mask and gloves. He held a cup of tea in his one hand and a rotting olive branch in the other.

“The council.” William nodded eagerly.

“Are you entirely sure what your meant to be running from?” She looked back at William, whose image seemed to have mixed with Spike’s. As the ground beneath began to quake again she grabbed his hand.

The smile he gave her was blinding and he pulled her into him as the world around them dissolved until she found herself standing next to Spike in a bedroom.

It was beautiful. The bed was covered with white silk sheets and sprinkled with red rose petals. Lamps were scattered about and had been draped with scarves to give the room a soft warm glow, and the French windows rested open so a soft breeze was blowing the sheer curtains into the room.

Buffy turned to him with a smile. “Did you do all this?”

Spike smirked at her. “This? No, that was all William.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, returning her gaze to their setting.

“I’m glad you like it. I wanted to do this properly,” he said as he reached over and took her hand again.

Buffy arched an enquiring eyebrow at him. “Do what exactly?”

“Angelus still holds his claim over me, pet. I need you to break it.” She gave him a confused look.

“But I won the fight. I thought that meant that I had claim over you now.”

Spike smiled at her gently. “No, you still have to bite me. There’s a ritual of sorts.” Buffy’s confused look became one of worry.

“Is it very complex?” Spike chuckled deeply.

“No, kitten, you’ll be just fine. Don’t think, just feel. Once you’ve claimed me everything will stop being affected by your demon and I’ll belong to you.” Spike took her hand again and led her over to the bed. She put up no resistance as he lay her down gently.

“Does Giles have to take notes? I’d prefer it if we were alone.” Spike looked over his shoulder at the Watcher who was seated upright in a chair in the very corner of the room.

“He doesn’t know what’s happening yet. Needs to take notes so he can research.”

“Why can’t we just tell him?”

“’Cause you’re not awake.” His lips lowered until they were hovering an inch away from hers. He trailed a line of kisses and small nips along her jaw line and up to her ear. “Wake up, Buffy,” he whispered softly right before he lunged for her neck.


***


Buffy’s eyes flew open as her hand instantly flew to her neck where Spike had bitten her just as she had woken. She had just had a dream—a prophetic dream—and the last time she had dreamt like that she had been killed by the Master.

Her mind instantly wandered back over the messages contained within the dream. There were men in white masks, pretending to help her, but really leading her off the right path. The council was going to have some part in all this mess, and she couldn’t trust them.

“Ow!” Buffy frowned and looked over the edge of the couch to find Cordelia splayed out on the floor, her hand clutching her forehead.

“Cordy? What are you doing on the floor?” The brunette shot her a withering glare.

“Oh don’t play cute with me, ‘what are you doing on the floor?’” Cordy mocked in a put on voice as she got herself up. “See if I ever try and wake you up again. I am, like, so going to have the biggest bruise on my forehead now, because I’m-Miss-Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer decides to head butt the person who is nice enough to try and wake her up!” Buffy frowned as Cordy walked out of the room still complaining loudly.

Giles. She needed to find her Watcher. And a vampire—if the dream was anything to go by she had to claim him fast, before Angelus recovered and tried to use its pull against them.

 

Chapter 12



Buffy stood at the top of the stairs which led to the basement and took a deep breath. She knew that the vampire within was asleep because he had yet to acknowledge her presence, so she took the time she had to prepare herself for what she was about to do.

There was a small pit of doubt within her that was screaming to run away and fast—that she was crazy to bind herself to Spike. Bits and pieces of the argument she just had with her Watcher playing on repeat in her head.


“Buffy, I can understand your distress, but this is completely mad! You’ll be bound to him forever! Forever! Do you understand how long that is? A life time will come and go and we will all pass on, but you will still be alive and you will still be bound to him!”

“Angelus’ claim has to be broken. He knows that Spike is working with us. It a weakness we can’t afford.”

“Do you even realise what a claim entails? Have you even thought about the ramifications that may be involved? How do we know that once you have claimed him HE won’t try and use it to control YOU?”

“That’s why I need your help. Please, Giles.”


Her argument had been convincing, yet she couldn’t remember a word of it now that the time had come to act upon her well-researched plan.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll hold the power in the claim. If anything, it will reinforce his loyalty in this mess. You can do it,” Buffy whispered to herself quietly as she lowered her weight onto the first step of the staircase. It squeaked loudly and she froze in place, her wide eyes darting to the bed to see if Spike had woken. “He’s still asleep. You can do this.”

She kept repeating the mantra over and over in her head as she descended the rest of the staircase silently and made her way towards the bed.


***


Dru whimpered and moaned as her ‘daddy’ ploughed roughly into her from behind. Usually she enjoyed it when he was rough with her. Usually she enjoyed it when he did anything to her, as long as he was paying her attention—letting her know he cared, even a little bit.

But tonight something in the air was wrong. Something was brewing, and try as she might she couldn’t expel it from the extremities of her mind. She knew it was beginning to irritate her Angel that she wasn’t screaming and sobbing like she normally did, but for once her broken mind couldn’t—wouldn’t—focus on her daddy.

Dru could hear her dollies whispering together from across the room, conspiring together and leaving her out. They were still upset with her and every time she tried to listen to what they were saying they fell silent and refused to talk again until she had moved away.

She let out a deep moan of pleasured pain as Angelus gripped her hair harshly and pulled her head back baring her throat to him. His thrust became harder as his fangs ripped into her neck, not drinking, nor claiming, merely puncturing for the joy that her pain brought him.

Angelus let the wound weep as he pulled back again and watched the rivulets of blood stream down the back of her neck, past her shoulder blades and into the slight indentation made by her spine as it continued down to pool in the small of her back before his powerful thrusts scattered the liquid making it stream down around her sides and drip onto the bed.

Dru whimpered and tried to find pleasure in the act but she couldn’t. Something was about to go terribly wrong, and try as she might she couldn’t switch her mind off.


***


Spike awoke as Buffy neared the bed. Opening one eye he watched her quizzically, trying to discern why she practically had a flashing neon sign posted above her head reading ‘nervous’.

“You alright, pet?” Buffy shuddered at his voice which was still husky from sleep. Licking her lips nervously, she walked towards him and helped him into a sitting position on the miniature cot, so that his back was resting against the wall.

He arched a scarred eyebrow at her as she moved so that she was straddling his legs. He went along with it as she placed one hand on his shoulder and the other at the nape of his neck.

“Feeling a bit peckish, Slayer?” Buffy ignored his question, positive that if she opened her mouth to speak her voice would come out wavering. Instead she focused her attention on finding Angelus’ mark on Spike’s neck.

Spike frowned as he felt her sniffing softly at his neck. What exactly was she doing? An involuntary growl was torn from his lips as she found and swiped her tongue over his grandsire’s mark of domination. She was going to claim him.

Knowing that the bite would be painful and less effective if he didn’t submit, he tilted his head in supplication. Buffy brought her demon to the fore, instantly demanding the presence of Spike’s demon which emerged without a fight.

“Do you know what your doing, pet?” Spike asked as he brought his hands to rest on her hips.

“I think so,” she whispered back nervously.

“You think so?” He asked as his eyebrows shot up.

“I had Giles research it with me,” she said in a soft voice which was muffled against his neck.

“Bloody hell!” Spike let his head fall back against the wall. That would have gone over well with the Watcher. Spending what was left of the afternoon researching books on vampire claims with his Slayer, so that said Slayer could claim William the Bloody thereafter. “Are you sure you read up on the right one? There’s more than one type of claim, you know.”

“Domination?” She asked in the same small voice. “Is that the one I want?” Spike didn’t answer her verbally, but she felt the nod of his head.

God, the last thing he wanted was to be branded with a bite of domination—less so with the slayer as its owner. But he knew that it was the only way to break Angelus’ claim over him. It was either that or mate with the chit. Mating claims made void all other claims over a vampire, but with that there really was no going back, and he wasn’t sure that forever was what he was looking for with the Slayer. At least in those terms—after the domination was completed he would be linked to her forever anyway.

“Bite deep, love. Got to make sure it will scar.” He was surprised when she didn’t go for the bite right away. Instead she employed the tactic he had used on her the night before. Ghosting kisses up and down the column of his neck before her tongue flicked out to swipe at the mark.

His eyes fell closed and his head fell back against the wall as she ground her hips down into his. She had read that bites of domination were often painful, and while vampires usually enjoyed pain, most often employed some method of distraction to keep their mind off of it. So she was going with the only way she knew how—the same way he had distracted her from his bite.

Spike’s grip on Buffy’s hips grew tighter as he helped her control her movements until she had settled into some sort of pattern. His jaw was clenched and his nostrils were flared as he breathed in the heady scent of her arousal as it began to fill the air surrounding them. He groaned at her whisper soft pants and whimpers in his ear; they were making him harder by the second and he could feel the bite of his zipper against the head of his shaft.

He felt her tongue find Angelus’ mark on his neck again and tensed slightly just as she drove her Slayer fangs into his neck. He let out a hoarse cry and bucked his hips up into hers as she ground hers down to keep him from throwing her off of him and the bed. Spike released a sound that seemed stuck between a whimper of pain and pleasure as Buffy kept up her stimulation of the growing bulge in his pants.

Buffy could feel his hand sliding up her back and holding her head in to his neck as he encouraged her to bite deeper. She groaned loudly as his bloody flowed freely down her throat in rivers, before finally shaking her head to tear the holes slightly. She then pulled back from him and swiped her tongue over her mark to close the wounds.

“Blood consumed and being marked, you are mine to have and to own.”


***


Drusilla let out a wail as the familial claim over Spike was ripped from her being and his presence completely lost to her in a void of darkness. She used all her strength to throw her sire off her before she stumbled from the bed to collapse on the floor.

“William! My William!” She sobbed and tore at her hair trying to find some way through her frantic panic to bring the connection back. It had been there for what seemed like forever, her safety net to go to whenever her daddy wasn’t around. Now there was nothing but an empty darkness where her prince had once been.

Her head shot up so that she was staring at the doll on the mantle piece as a cackling laughter reached her ears. “You! You did this! You and that nasty sunshine! Bring him back!” She screamed at the doll, “BRING HIM BACK!”

Her ear piercing screech reverberated throughout the room for a few seconds, then everything fell silent and not even the pixies would speak to her.

 

Chapter 13



Spike felt the Watcher’s eyes zero in on his neck the instant that he and the Slayer exited the basement, and had to suppress the urge to growl at the frustrated and disapproving look he gave them. It was obvious—if it hadn’t already been before—that the Buffy’s Watcher did not hold the same sentiments concerning this claiming.

Trying to ease some of the tension that was passing back and forth between Slayer and Watcher, Spike stepped away from her side and went to sit beside the werewolf. He liked this kid; his demon seemed to have a calming effect on his own, and he didn’t feel the need to yammer on about everything and anything he could thing of.

Everyone was assembled in the kitchen, sitting on various counter tops, and seemed to be waiting for them so they could start some type of Scooby meeting. He ignored the way the whelp’s eyes bore into his back as he crossed the room to hoist himself up onto the counter top beside the werewolf.

“I see the bleached wonder can walk again,” Xander sneered, turning his head away from the blond menace and completely missing the extra set of holes in his neck. “With Slayer blood pumping—or not pumping—away in his veins, it would make him pretty invincible at the moment, right? I don’t see why we can’t just send him back to the mansion to deal with the evil twins.”

Spike felt the growl rise in his throat at the implied comment he could hear in the boy’s voice suggesting that he was no longer evil. He’d be damned if he got stuck doing their dirty work, and he had never consented to killing Dru. Just because he was helping them defeat Angelus and had allowed himself to be dominated by the Slayer didn’t mean he was willing to don a white hat and jump on their say so. As soon as this fiasco was over, her was grabbing his dark princess and getting the hell out of dodge.

“I’m not doing your Slayer’s bloody dirty work for you, whelp,” Spike replied, sending Xander a glare at which the brunette rolled his eyes. Spike cringed internally—being in the presence of these people did wonders for your evil self-esteem.

“Please, like you have any say in the matter any more. You are totally Buffy’s butt monkey,” Xander retorted, sporting a grin which was just a bit too smug for Spike’s liking. He released a little snarl from his chest as he turned cold eyes on the Slayer.

“S’that what you’ve been telling everyone, pet?” His tone was steely and he smiled to himself as the Slayer instantly began back peddling.

“No! I swear! The only person I told was Giles.” Steel blue eyes turned to a guilty looking Watcher.

“Well then, seems the Watcher might have misinformed you as to what my ‘butt-monkey’ status actually entails. It doesn’t take away my free will, whelp, so I’d watch your mouth. Not always going to have your Slayer bodyguard to protect you.” Giles cleared his throat, trying to diffuse the growing argument.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid we missed out window of opportunity, Xander. Angelus will be expecting us now, whether we plan to attack or not. We’ve also lost the element of surprise we had with Buffy’s unknown status,” he stated as he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“To be fair, it wasn’t much of an advantage. As soon as I went all demony, he went all growly and tried to jump me,” Buffy said matter-of-factly in her defence. Giles barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward.

“I do so love how you butcher the English language,” he muttered as he replaced his glasses. Spike snorted in agreement.

“What about Buffy’s dream? Was there anything else useful in that?” Willow asked as she peeked out from behind her computer.

“Dream?” Joyce queried, placing her mug of coffee down and looking quizzically at her daughter.

“Part of the Slayer package, mom. I get prophetic dreams occasionally.” Her mother made an impressed sound.

“Did you happen to see us coming into a load of cash?” She muttered to herself as she took another sip from her rapidly cooling drink.

“Buffy?” Giles prompted, pulling the teen’s attention back onto the dream.

“Yeah? Oh right, the dream. I told you about it right? The only warning it appeared to be giving me was to be wary of the Council. Very heavy ‘not what they seem’ undertones. The rotting olive branch, white masks, and the fact that they kept trying to lead me off the path that I had to follow—which is really kind of symbolic now that I think of it.” Giles frowned and shook his head lightly in confusion.

“Are you sure it was prophetic? I just don’t see why you would be sent dreams to warn you about the people for whom you work. The Council has been on the side of good for as long as it has been established. Even longer, one could assume. What else was in the dream?” Buffy blushed as she remembered the bedroom Spike had taken her to. Some how she knew if she brought that up she wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“Nothing else,” she confirmed.

“Are you sure?” Buffy couldn’t look Giles in the eye, so she settled for nodding her head vigorously and trying to hide the blush that was staining her cheeks.

“I just don’t see what you have to be wary of from the Council,” Giles said adamantly.

“Please Watcher, you can’t honestly tell me you believe the council to be one hundred percent on the up and up. An organisation like that is bound to have corruption within its ranks. Just depends on how far up on the hierarchy the corruption is as to how bad it will be for you.” Giles looked torn between his sense of loyalty and what he knew deep down to be true.

“What cause would they have to attack their own Slayer?” Giles put up feebly. Truth was, he could think of dozens of reasons. He had heard stories—whispered back and forth between students in his days when he was training to be a Watcher—of the council killing off their Slayers when they became old enough to question whether what they were doing was right.

He hadn’t thought anything of it back then, at a time when he knew no vampires personally and had only ever seen their true face in the books he studied within the Council headquarters. But now, after meeting the vampire with a soul on the road to redemption and the vampire without one who was willing to side with the Slayer to work towards a common goal, he was being forced to look further into the pockets of grey he had found in a black and white world.

“I would have thought your Slayer’s new and improved self would have been reason enough,” Spike retorted, giving Giles a condescending look.

Giles sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his tired face in irritation. He knew he was being irrational, but he still felt that as a Watcher he should at least put up a token protest in the Council’s defence. “We should look into better surveillance. I dare say they will spend sometime watching you before they decide to make any move.”

“Wait, so now I not only have my deranged ex-boyfriend after me, but the Council is trying to kill me as well? Why don’t I just jump off of a cliff and save them the effort?” Spike chuckled loudly and Buffy shrank back slightly under her mother’s icy glare.

“There will be no jumping off of any cliffs. Let’s just think this through,” Joyce said, straightening up. “If they are having someone watch the house, then maybe we should think about dropping the cloaking spell. Angelus knows where you are and they will know something is up with us the second the realise that all the lights are on in the home but they haven’t seen a single person inside.”

Giles coughed slightly in surprise at her logic on the matter. “Yes, well, there is no use in us continuing to hide our presence if he already knows where we are.”

“Yeah, I’d say he has a pretty darn good idea.” Willow’s voice spoke up from the table again. There was a slight tremor in her voice that had everyone looking at her. She gestured towards the window with wide eyes as they turned to find the face of the vampire in question watching them. Both Cordelia and Xander sprung back from the window simultaneously emitting identical shrieks.

The cloaking spell prevented Angelus from actually seeing or hearing anything they did, but he seemed to realise suddenly that he had their attention as a slowly evil smirk formed on his face and he lifted a hand to wave mockingly at them.

“You’ve got to come out some time,” he said, speaking loudly enough for them to hear through the glass, before melting back into the darkness of the night. Buffy’s eyes never left the spot where he had been.

“We have to do something. I’m sick of waiting around.”
 

Chapter 14



James was roused from his sleep by the sound of branches snapping under the weight of someone’s feet. He bolted up immediately—his hand instinctively going for the tranquiliser gun that lay beside him. As he peered out cautiously into the night, the house, and everything around it, was as void of life as it had been since his arrival in Sunnydale—excepting the brief stint where he had seen the girl flee from the house.

If it would not lead to the fact that his superiors would inevitably find out that he had fallen asleep on the job on more than one occasion, James would have packed up his gear and changed posts by now. He didn’t even know for sure if the girl had returned home.

Dropping his guard again, James relaxed back against a tree—there was no one there.

He jolted violently and a loud shriek of pure terror was torn from his lips when he was unexpectedly grabbed from behind and hefted into the air with ease.

“Now, what do we have here? What dresses in tweed, lurks outside the Slayer’s place and is dumb enough to carry a tranquiliser gun but not a stake in Sunnydale?” James let out an unmanly whimper as he struggled to free himself from the iron grasp as his heart rate almost tripled in speed “I’m guessing that you, my friend, work for the Council. Am I right?”

Throwing caution, protocol and everything but his sheer need for survival into the wind, James nodded frantically as his arms flailed about, trying to find purchase on something—anything—to help support his weight.

“Hmm, and why do you happen to be lurking around dear old Buff’s home?” Once again, James thought of nothing but his immediate sense for survival from what he was now more than certain was a vampire that had him clutched around the back of the neck as he dangled him a foot above the ground.

“P-prophecy…I was sent to w-watch the Slayer.” It took a moment for James to register that he had been dropped. As soon as he came to his senses though, he was scrambling around to face his attacker as he threw his spare arm out to reach for the tranquiliser gun.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Angelus teased, seeing what James was after and planting a heavy foot into the man’s chest, forcing him back so he was sprawled out on the ground before him. A thrill of pleasure and satisfaction raced through Angelus as he watched all colour and anything but pure unadulterated terror bleed from the man’s features as his bladder let go simultaneously in reaction to seeing Angelus in game face.

James felt the effects of horror wash through him, paralysing him with fear as he realised he was looking into the face of a vampire for the first time and not just the pictures the council had been showing him in books for years. This was the real thing. That he could recognise this creature as Angelus “The Scourge of Europe” offered him no comfort. All sense of pride at correctly identifying who the vampire was fled as the muscles holding his bladder released and he wet himself.

“Prophecy? What do you know about it?” James started to shake his head but stopped quickly as a booted foot pressed down harder on his chest.

“I don’t know anything! I swear!” James sobbed, unashamed of the fat tears rolling down his face

Angelus paused to consider him for a moment. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

A harsh kick to the head had the human slumping unconscious before Angelus picked him up, slung him over his shoulder, and walked off into the night.


***


“I can still hear you. Still talking, still singing, telling me I’ve been a bad girl. I’ve done everything you asked of me, why must you keep screaming?”

Drusilla stared at the doll that was mocking her from her place on the mantel piece. When had Miss Edith decided to stop talking to her? All she did now was mock her and laugh and scorn her for what she did to the sunshine. It was daddy’s fault—ever since he had come home Miss Edith had been unusually quiet. It was his fault that she was mocking Dru, his fault that they had made that little ball of sunshine and his fault that it took her William away.

“Stop it! Stop laughing at me!” Dru threatened as she rose to her feet. The doll only seemed to laugh harder. “I shall poke out your eyes!”

Letting out a small growl of anger, the vampiress flew across the room with all the inhuman grace of the predator she was as snatched up the doll. She marched back over to the bed with the doll before lifting up one of the pillows and jamming Miss Edith under it, trying to smother out the sound.

She let out a whimper of frustration as the taunting could still be heard and instead attempted to push the doll under the bed.

“Please, stop!” Dru tried the trunk at the end of the bed, the bottom drawer of the dresser in the room, and the closet buried under a pile of clothes until the frustration of it finally hit her and she picked the doll up and swung.

Bits of porcelain shattered and flew across the room as she smashed the doll’s head against the wall finally bringing the whispers to an end. Miss Edith was dropped from her hands as Dru backed away from the broken doll timidly.

‘Dru?’ Drusilla’s head whipped around to stare at the doll on the mantel piece as she heard the whisper. Miss Sally was smiling at her with her big hazel eyes free of the contempt Miss Edith’s had held.

“Miss Sally?” She felt the smile and mental nod the doll projected to her.

‘Find him, Drusilla darling. Go find our William and bring him home. Promise him what he has long desired and he will be ours again.’ A small smile broke the strained features of Drusilla’s face.

“Yes, I’ll bring our Willy back to mummy.”


***


Dru could feel the pulse of magic from the cloaking spell as she approached the Slayer’s house. It was strong and it pushed heavily on the fringes of her mind, but Dru knew her Spike was inside. Miss Sally had told her that she would find her boy there and she had listened knowing what was revealed to be true.

Dru walked until she could fell the vibrations of the magic against her skin before holding a hand up in front of her as thought it were resting atop of the invisible barrier of the spell. Closing her eyes, Dru began to hum softly, channelling her mind to see past the spell. She gave a small growl as she felt the spell give way against the probing of her mind like the popping of a balloon allowing her to see once more inside the house.

Her William was sitting in the kitchen with the Slayer, drinking out of a mug and smirking at the small blonde. Her eyes were transfixed on the new set of scars on her boy’s neck. They seemed to call to her—burning her in a more painful way than she could have ever imagined.

It was all the Slayer’s fault. The nasty girl had ruined her happy home first by stealing her daddy’s attention then by stealing her prince. Everything that had gone wrong was her fault, had she not been turned then Miss Edith would still be talking to her and everything would be as it should. Why? Why had her daddy turned the sunshine into the moon?

Closing her eyes, Dru focused on the thought of her childe. When she could feel the slight tingling of his presence on the back of her neck, she sent out a call to him as his sire—the only link remaining between them. If there was one way she knew was sure to get Angelus’ attention, it was to pay attention to Spike. She needed her boy back home—her safety net.


***


Inside, Spike’s back went rigid as he felt the call of his sire. He turned slowly and peered out the window of the back door and into the night.

“What is it?” Buffy asked, not having sensed anything out of the ordinary. It was the only drawback of the spell; while it completely cloaked their presences from those outside, it also masked the presence of anyone outside of its barriers until they were almost flush against the side of the house.

“Drusilla,” Spike said absently as he got up from his seat and made his way to the back door. “She’s calling me.”

Buffy got up quickly and joined Spike by the back door. Drusilla was calling him. Did that mean he would leave? That he would call the whole truce off and run off with his beloved sire again? After all, she was the reason he wanted to kill Angelus.

Buffy tried unsuccessfully to stifle the wave of jealousy within which came roaring to the forefront. Spike was hers now, what right did that bitch have to come and try to take him away again? She had treated him like shit despite the way he had cared for her and loved her for the past century. She didn’t deserve him.

Buffy refused to listen to the little niggling voice in the back of her head that questioned why she was getting so worked up over the thought of Spike leaving. He was hers, simple as that.

Drusilla smiled brilliantly at him as the door was opened. “Spike.”

“Dru,” Spike answered in a guarded voice “What are you doing here?”

“Mummy has come to bring her boy home. You’ve been bad, playing with the nasty Slayer and leaving poor princess all by herself.” Buffy gritted her teeth, practically turning green with jealousy as Dru fluttered her eyelashes at Spike and sent him coy looks. How dare she!

“Not by yourself. You had Angelus, pet. You never paid any attention to me, and I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.” Spike wasn’t stupid. The only reason she was here was because Angelus wasn’t paying her enough attention. Wasn’t that how it always went? Peaches started to lose interest, so Dru used Spike in an effort to make her sire notice again, and once she had her daddy’s attention, she forgot about Spike to jump back into her sire’s bed. Spike snorted internally.

Sad part was that usually Spike would soak up the attention despite knowing that she was using him. ‘I loved her. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t mine most of the time, the titbits I got were enough,’ Spike thought sarcastically in a self deprecating tone. No wonder Angelus made such fun of him—for the majority of it he had been a wanker where Dru was concerned.

“The sunshine ripped you from me, and Miss Edith refused to play without the presence of our boy. My sweet William, how it must have hurt to be torn from your family so? Mummy’s come to make it better.” Spike frowned. He felt no desire what-so-ever to take his sire up on what she was so clearly offering. He shot a small glance over his shoulder at the small blonde just behind him—nope, definitely no desire to leave with his sire.

Dru could tell she was getting nowhere; her William was blinded by the sunlight. Determined not to lose this battle, Dru sidled up the steps towards Spike to wrap herself around the lean body of her childe.

“Mummy misses her boy and daddy has been so horribly nasty. Won’t you come home and look after me, my Spike?” He didn’t have a chance to reject her offer as a savage growl was ripped from behind him and Buffy flew past him and towards the vampiress.

Spike saw Dru’s eyes light up as she saw the blonde charging at her in blind jealousy and rage. A second too late he yelled a warning, and he could do nothing but watch helplessly as Dru’s claw like fingernails struck.

 

Chapter 16



James’ scream of agony echoed throughout the mansion as the sharp blade that was lodged in the soft skin under his fingernail was pushed in further. He was sweating profusely, and the tears that were running down his cheeks went unchecked as he sobbed for Angelus to stop.

“Tell me, James. All this pain can stop if you’ll just tell me what the prophecy said.” Angelus spoke in a calm tone as he stroked the man’s face, cleaning the sweat and blood away.

“I don’t—AHHH!” Angelus smirked as wiggled the blade gently. His demon loved every minute of the man’s agony. Angelus knew James had no more information, as the man had broken within minutes of entering the mansion, but the opportunity to torture him was too good to pass up.

“Want to try that one more time?” Angelus said with a laughing tone in his voice.

“I DON’T KNOW! OH GOD, PLEASE! AHHHH!” Angelus laughed over the screaming as he continued to wiggle the blade.

“Fuck! I love that sound!” He yelled over the man’s screaming. “I could come from that sound alone.” His more faithful minions watched from the sidelines as their master tortured the mortal.

“PLEASE! I was sent here to watcher the Slayer! Nothing—AHH! Please! That’s all! I swear!” The scream that pierced the air as Angelus ripped the blade out again was bloodcurdling and the minions surrounding him shuddered, some with fear, others in awed respect at their master’s talent.

Angelus chuckled and leaned over the man. “You know what, James my boy? I believe you. I believe that you know absolutely NOTHING about what the Council has planned for my Slayer.” James sobbed in relief as Angelus moved out of his line of vision and away from the stone slab he was stretched out across.

It was short lived however, when the vampire appeared once more holding a pouch. He sprinkled some of the contents into his hands and showed it to the watcher.

“Do you know what this is?” Angelus asked in an overly sincere and kind tone. James’ eyes went wide. “It’s gunpowder. They didn’t even have this around when I last tortured someone. So guess what? You get to be my guinea pig. Tell me when it hurts.”

Angel sprinkled a trail of the black powder across the man’s bare chest and belly and smirked as he lit a match and set it on fire.


***


Drusilla took little pleasure in the screams that filled the air as she sauntered back into the mansion. Everything was wrong, twisted backwards. She watched from the shadows as her daddy painted pretty colours across the mortal’s chest with the exploding dust. If he wouldn’t pay her any attention, then she would make him notice.

She would find herself a new puppy with which to make him jealous, one that he wouldn’t dare ignore—one that he couldn’t. He would be arriving soon. She could almost taste the magicks in the air. Her daddy wouldn’t dare ignore her then.


***


“I don’t think Buffy should be the only one who gets to stay home. I mean, with the threat of Angelus we’re all put ourselves at risk coming to school everyday,” Xander said as he entered the library after a mind-numbing hour of chemistry.

“I think the fact that she glows was the deciding factor when they ruled school out,” Oz said as he sat down and pulled a giggling Willow into his lap.

“Well I for one would be more worried about the fact that Mrs. Summers is leaving Spike and Buffy alone all day at home. Do you have any idea what they could be doing? I have to sleep in that bed.” Cordelia’s comment was met with blank stares. “Oh come on. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the way those two look at each other. Not to mention the WAY wigging suck fest they had going on in front of us a few nights back—.”

Giles cleared his throat loudly as he walked up behind the gossiping teens.

“G-man, so what’s the what? Find anything on why the Council wants in on our little group?” Xander pushed himself away from the table and the all too disturbing conversation eager for a change of subject.

“Yes, well, please don’ refer to me like that ever again.” Giles brought a very large book out and set it on the table. “It occurred to me today that the only reason the Council might have for the sudden interest in Buffy, besides them gaining the news of her physical changes, would be because of a prophecy.”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the same book as the one you found that dandy little prophecy about Buffy’s death in last year would it?” Xander asked warily. The older man’s silence was enough of an answer and an air of tension passed over the group as they realised what they were dealing with.

“It took me hours to go through, but eventually I came across this. I’ve done a quick translation as best as I could but I’ll have to look into it in far more depth back at the house.”

Willow picked up the notepad that had the rough translation on it.

Giles watched as Willow read it aloud, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Huh?” When she finished, Willow looked up at Giles for an explanation.

“I’ll see your ‘huh’ and raise you a ‘what the?’” Xander said as he came around to stand behind Willow so he could have a look at it for himself.

“I would have overlooked it completely if it hadn’t been for the use of the word Shantari in second line.” Giles leaned over and pointed it out to the small group of teens. “Remember how I told you the name of the demon and that the magicks used to create the first slayer had been lost over time? What I had forgotten was that this name was later acquired as a term used when referring to the First Slayer and the demon used to create her. So when the prophecy says that ‘Shantari shall arise once more’ it is actually referring to the demon used to create the First Slayer—.”

“Which means it’s talking about Buffy!” Willow interrupted as she caught on to what Giles was saying. “Born of evil, yet of the light. Angelus is evil and he was the one to turn her, but Buffy is still good. Shantari shall arise once more refers to the first Slayer demon being awoken in Buffy once more.” Willow finished and looked at Giles for reassurance; she gave him a bright smile at his small nod.

“Exactly,” Giles said giving her a proud look.

“So what does the rest mean?” Oz queried as his hand rose unconsciously to run down the back of his girlfriend’s hair.

“I’m still working on it.” Giles glanced at the clock on the wall and noted the time. It was 4:00 p.m. “We should get going, it’s not wise to be out too close to dusk.”


***


“Travers here.” Quentin Travers said clearly as he picked up the phone.

“Sir? It seems we have a slight problem in Sunnydale.” Travers frowned as he put the papers he had been working on aside. Instead he picked up a translated copy of the prophecy.

“Oh?”

“It seems the vampire Angel has lost his soul and reverted back into the form of Angelus. He got one of our men, sir.” Quentin’s fingers ran over the first line of the prophecy. Born of evil... Angelus perhaps? His relationship with the Slayer would allow him the proximity needed for the accomplishment.

“And Miss Summers?” He inquired, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“No progress has been made. She has been sighted only once and nothing seemed ‘off’ about her, sir. All our surveillance shows nothing out of the ordinary occurring at any of the given locations.” Travers folded the file in front of him closed and placed it back in the top drawer of his desk.

“Keep watching. There has to be something you’re missing.”

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