Title:The Hunt
author: spikegirl7
feedback is appreciated, spikegirl7@hotmail.com
rating: hard R for now

A/N: I reformatted. The first two parts were never meant
to be two chapters, i wrote them as one but the end of the second
part was lost when i transferred data to my new computer.
So now i've gone and put them together. enjoy!



It was always the hunt. That was the true drive, the thrill of the hunt.
Searching and finding something to try for, then the pursuit. Then
came two options, he would catch his prey or it would get away. The
end result sometimes didn’t seem to matter, it was the hunt that
called to him.

Tonight Spike’s prey was a small blonde slayer. He had seen her with
her friends, dancing in that noisy club. He watched as the music flowed
through her body which seemed to move with liquid grace that he had
hardly ever seen in a human being. He had watched her sway, moving her
hips enticingly. He had watched, hidden in the shadows as numerous boys
had attempted to join her but she had shaken them off easily. She was an
outstanding creature, as unique and outstanding as if she had been
basked in a golden spotlight.

He had been entranced. He remembered the year before, fighting with her
had been wonderful. Her muscles rippled beneath her skin with a grace
that surpassed even those slayers he had fought before. The thrill and
exhilaration had been unparalleled, and he had never wanted that dance to
end.

Now he had returned and he was enthralled once more. He had come back
to Sunnyhell to find her and had become engrossed with her in the process,
like a fly caught inexorably in the beautiful webbing of the spider, only he
wasn’t trying too hard to escape.

Spike caught her scent as he wandered through the third cemetery that
night, the scent of apples and sweat laced with power. He approached
and could hear the sounds of a fight not too far away. He settled into
the shadows to watch.

The slayer had come across a newly risen fledgling, dirt still clinging to the
navy blue suit the corpse had been lovingly buried in. The vamp was
clumsy and uncoordinated as he fought, and defeat was inevitable. The
slayer moved gracefully, her leg swinging around to hit the tiny vamp in
the side of the head. She followed through with the momentum and
aimed a potent right punch at the creature’s mid-section. As the vamp
stumbled back the slayer drew out a stake and threw it with deadly precision.

The vamp never had a chance. As it crumbled into dust the slayer noted that
there was still the tingling at the back of her neck that signaled the
presence of the undead. Usually after she dusted one the feeling would
go away since most other vamps would run from an encounter with the
slayer. She checked around, looking intently for the vamp that had stayed
to fight the slayer.

Spike could see her looking around and knew that she had sensed him. He
watched her intently, wondering what she would do now that she had sensed
him. He wondered if she could sense that it was him, if there was any
familiarity flowing towards her through her slayer senses. But yet again, she
was still young, her senses might not be that refined yet.

Finally she seemed to give up, since the vamp was not presenting itself she
doubted that it was even aware of her presence, so she walked off towards
the center of the graveyard to continue her patrol. She remained unaware
of just how erroneous her assumption had been. He watched her with
fascination from the shadows and moved silent as the wind after her once she
left.

The tingling in the back of her neck didn’t cease as she sauntered through
the graveyard. However no vamps crossed her path that would allow her to
ease the tension that had permeated her being with the feeling of the
vampire. Now she could no longer ignore the feeling and she had an acute
sense that she was being followed.

She proceeded to the center of the cemetery and stopped in an area with only
low-lying tombstones about, the trees bordering the area parting for a few
meters to allow minimum coverage for anyone in the center trying to hide. She
turned around in the center, trying to find the source of the tingling in the vamp
she was sure was following her like the poisonous exhaust fumes from an old car.

Spike looked on from the shadows of the trees bordering the clearing, and
smiled to himself. She knew that she was being followed and had gone here
trying to draw him out. She was clever. She was looking around her and she
hadn’t spotted him and he knew that she still didn’t know it was him. He decided
that it was time to announce his presence.

He emerged from the trees, a part of the shadow detaching itself to draw itself
into the halo of the moonlight. It glinted off his white hair and made it take on
a bluish tint and cast shadows on his handsome face. He stood there in the
moonlight, the stars glittering above his head, waiting for his prey to notice.

Finally her sweep brought her eyes to him and she jumped, as it seemed to
her that he had materialized from the night air, made of fairy dust and
assembled miraculously right before her gaze. Her surprise however, turned to
one of fear, anger, and finally stony determination. Spike smiled, that was his
slayer, always ready for what the world had to throw at her. “What are you doing
here, Spike?”

He sauntered forward towards her, not surprised when she didn’t back down,
“Now, now, luv, is that any way to greet a friend?”

“A friend, no. You, yes. Why did you come back? You said you wouldn’t see
me again. Problems with your crazy ho?”

He smirked, “Language slayer. You’re supposed to be a paragon of virtue or
what all, and good girls don’t swear like that.” He paused for a moment to
look at her now, his prey, so beautiful basked in the moonlight. “Dru had
some issues she needed to work through. Missed her daddy, and I got sick
of hearing ‘bout it. Left her with a chaos demon who I hope can deal with her.”

She tossed her hair back, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “That still doesn’t
explain why you came here Spike. What’s here that’s so special?”

He pretended to looked shocked at this one, “Why pet, I thought you would
have figured it out by now.” He took a step towards her, “I came back for you.”

She felt the world spin around her. This was it, he had come back to kill her,
make her his third slayer. He had always been stronger than her, their
previous fights she always survived only because someone would intervene
or he would find something else to catch his more immediate attention. Now
that he was back he had nothing to distract him from accomplishing his task.
Her fear wrapped itself around her but she managed to gather herself together,
“All right then Spike, let’s go.” She dropped to a fighting stance.

Spike smirked at her before he turned his head to gaze at something else beyond
her, “Maybe later, slayer. I don’t like company. I’ll return to finish the hunt later.”
With that he faded back into the trees, once again becoming part of the shadows.

From behind her she heard a sound and she turned to see Angel emerge from the
trees behind her, thankful for his interruption not sure of the outcome of the
upcoming fight. She walked over to her protector, who remained oblivious to the
presence of his childe and the encounter between him and the slayer as only the
tingle of some vamp's presence registered, which he quickly disregarded.

*~***~~**~~*~**~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three days had passed since she had last seen him and she was on edge. She
hadn’t yet told her friends that Spike was back in town. She feared that doing
so would only cause them to panic, and she wanted to avoid causing them any
pain. She certainly wouldn’t tell them that he had come back with the express
intent to see her, they would go into a frenzy, and that she did not need.

She hadn’t even told Angel, any mention of Spike would send him into his
over-protective mode which, although it was cute, could often get in her way.
No, better let him find out on his own. He’d probably be furious with her when
he found out that she had known but she was willing to risk that in order to
avoid his domineering attitude now.

Now she was in the third cemetery she had visited that night without any sign of
the blonde haired vampire that so irked her. However halfway through the
cemetery she felt the familiar prickle that meant a vampire was near. She looked
around and saw no vamps anywhere, and she knew immediately that it was
Spike. “Come on out, Spike; I know you’re there.”

Once again he seemed to materialize from the shadows, his hands clapping slowly,
“Bravo slayer. Didn’t take you as long this time. Other night I thought I’d spend
the entire night in those trees.”

She fell into a fighting stance, raising a stake in her right hand, keeping it at the
ready to drive straight into his undead heart and send him scattering in the wind,
another clout of sand from a beach no one had ever seen. “Cut the small talk,
Spike. If we’re gonna fight let’s get it over with.”

That smirk never left his eyes as he allowed his muscles to prepare for the
confrontation about to occur. His body loosened itself out, preparing to counter
any tricks that the slayer might throw his way. Slowly he started circling, planning
up his first move. He was still the hunter, planning how to approach his prey.

She saw him begin to move and decided to make the first attack. If her past fights
with Spike were any indication she would have to get him quick if she was going to
live to fight another day. She lunged forward, aiming a hard left to his face and
rejoiced when it connected, causing his head to momentarily snap back. She tried
to take advantage of the blow she had struck and thrust her right arm towards his
chest, the stake towards his heart.

It was not to be, however. Spike’s left hand whipped up and knocked away her wrist,
causing her to drop the stake that she had been holding. He followed that up with a
punch with his right, which she blocked, his arm now trapped by hers. He grabbed
her other arm and pulled her close, head-butting her and causing her to stumble back
a few steps and release his arms.

Her shock was short-lived though as she recovered quickly from the blow he had given
her. Quickly she straitened up just as he was coming towards her. He threw a punch
that she able to evade quite easily, countering it with one of her own. However her
attack failed as he caught her wrist in his hand and twisted her arm around so her back
was pressed against his front. He caught her free hand and pinned it to her side as he
brought his face down to her neck.

Buffy stiffened in his arms as she felt his ridges against her neck. It had all been over
so quickly, and now she was helpless, about to have his fangs suck the life out of her.
The fight had been over so quickly, she had barely begun to fight when it was over.
Now he had finally won. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

At her neck he could smell the fear wafting off of her in waves. He chuckles softly into
her neck, he knew what she was expecting, but the hunt wasn’t over yet. The most
enjoyable part was going to come later. Quickly he shifted his face and sank his fangs
gently into her neck.

Warm Slayer blood filled his mouth, carrying her essence into him like water burst from a
dam. He saw her, little girl Buffy with her blonde hair bound into two pigtails bounding
down the stairs into the waiting arms of her mother with her father laughing next to her.
He saw elementary-school Buffy wearing a long-sleeved Care-Bears T-shirt with her hair
falling freely around her shoulders shining with the lights in the arena watching ice-capades
with her father sitting next to her. He saw Buffy after she had first been called tears running
down her face as she watched the fire she had set to destroy the vamps within claim the life
of her watcher. He saw her a few months later huddled in a ball inside the bathroom crying
as the sounds of her parents’ shouting floated up to her. He saw her smiling with her friends
at Sunnydale High. He was her face when she found Angelus by the bed she had made love
to Angel the night before. He saw her whole life through her blood.

He took a few slow sips of the intoxicating wine that was her blood before slipping his fangs
from her neck. He drew his tongue across his fang, cutting it and allowing the blood to well
up, and licked the wound closed muttering “HANC FEMINAM VINDICO, EA EST MEUS AC EI
PARENDUM EST MIHI.” The wound immediately stopped bleeding, the blood forming a webbing
that would clot and he smiled, knowing it would scar.

With his words Buffy felt as though her entire body suddenly caught fire. It felt as if her blood
was boiling, her blood was liquid fire running rampant through her veins, as every nerve
ending in her body seemed to explode causing her to want to scream in agony and moan in
ecstacy. She felt everything around her and her body was assaulted with so much feeling as
all she could hear was the rushing of blood through her ears and the galloping of her heart.
All this swelled up inside her until the dam seemed to burst as she reached her climax, trapping
the air in her throat and silencing her scream to the stars. She came down as the fire in her
blood lessened and focused on the bite on her neck and finally disappeared, leaving only a
pleasant tingling at the mark on her neck.

From his position nuzzling his mark on her neck Spike smirked. He knew what had just happened,
he could hear how her heart rate had skyrocketed and the change in her scent filled the air like
an exotic spice. He knew that it sometimes happened to a female that when they were claimed
they would reach an orgasm, but it was not overly common and it still gave him a sense of pride.
If he could do that with just a bite, what else could he do to her?

Buffy slowly came down from her peak in a fuzzy haze as she felt Spike’s cool lips on her
neck, soothing the tender wound on her neck with his gentle touch. Suddenly she came
shooting back to herself with unparalleled speed. It was as if she had been punched
in the gut. She realized that Spike was no longer drinking from her and she could still
hear her heart beating in her chest. Why wasn’t he draining her now?

Spike felt her body, which had been loose and relaxed following his initial bite, become
taut as a bowstring in his arms. Inwardly he sighed, knowing this brief reprieve was
about to come to a screeching halt. He had enjoyed having her in his arms and it was
a shame that he would have to let go, even for a moment.

The slayer began to struggle against him, her body twisting against his as it attempted
to free itself. Spike felt himself reacting to her movements as he growled into her ear,
“None of that now” and her body instantly stilled as a dancer grabbed in the middle of a
move.

Buffy was disturbed by her body’s unquestioning obedience. What had he done to her?
She was scared that he would have such power over her. Was it not enough that he
had beat her, that he had to control her too? Buffy felt herself teetering, “Please, let me
go.” As he released her she fought back the tears. When he let her go it was as if she
lost something inside of her. She wanted to jump back into his arms and never leave.
Her eyes welled up as she turned away from him and bolted through the cemetery
towards her house.

Spike watched her as she ran off, himself torn. It hurt something inside him to see her
in tears. But the larger part of him was thrilled at the completion of his claim. The hardest
part was done, now the real hunt would begin. He would make the Slayer his in all ways.
He turned and once again became part of the night.
***********************
 

Title: The Hunt
Author: spikegirl7
spikegirl7@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I wish they were mine, especially Spike. But he's not so he must wear clothes
Feedback: Yes Please! It makes me write faster
Summery: Spike is back and he's bitten buffy

Buffy ran hard from the spot where Spike had just bitten her. She ran hard, focused only on getting away from him. For a while she didn’t feel anything but the sting on her face from the cool night breeze. However after the first mile her muscles began to protest and her lungs strained with the effort of sustaining her pace but she took no notice, and ran to her house in a full panic.

She reached her house and scaled the tree to shoot inside her bedroom window. Without even removing her boots or jacket she fell face first onto her bed. Everything that had been going on recently, the SAT’s, Angel’s return from Hell and her friends animosity towards him, Faith popping in and out without warning, and now to cap it all off, Spike!

His presence itself was a big enough problem Now - oh god what was going on?!? He had beaten her, captured her and held her immobile, helpless. He had bitten her, had buried his fangs in her neck. By all rights she should be dead now. So why was she still alive? Why did he let her go when she asked?

Even more disturbing had been her bodies reaction to him. Her face lit up as the blood rushed to her cheeks with the memory. She had gotten off on his bite! She hoped with all her being that he had not noticed, but knowing her luck it wasn’t likely. And after, she had tried to get away. Why had she obeyed him when he told her to stop? Why didn’t she fight harder; say “screw you” and broken his nose with the back of her skull? Why did she obey him without question?

And now, since she had pulled away from him in the graveyard, it seemed as though something inside of her was missing. She felt incomplete, as if part of her was somewhere else. Not gone forever, just misplaced. She hadn’t felt like this when she had been in his arms. She felt her body protest, felt it need him, his touch. She needed it more than anything else she had felt before, even when she had been with Angel the year before. Nothing could compare.

And to him? To Spike?!?

Finally overcome by the emotional flood she broke down, the tears spilling from her eyes and dampening the pillow beneath her. When the tears finally slowed she fell into sleep, overwhelmed by both the physical toil of running the mile and a half to her house, and the emotional strain that she had been carrying.

*****

Walking into school then next day Buffy felt even worse. The gloomy weather mirrored her mood as the dark clouds above her head threatened rain. It was as if the gods themselves were also angered from the previous nights events. She had woken up that morning gloomy and the dreary sky was almost a relief.

She had awoken to find that the encounter the night before had not been a dream as she had desperately hoped it would be. Her clothes were pressing painfully against her body, having never been meant for sleep wear. The marks on her neck remained, and though they had closed there was a mark there none the less. The skin was red and raised up, and the marks stood out in stark contrast to her tanned neck. It had taken quite a while to cover that up, and even now the marks remained visible, if only less so.

And to top it all off, the feeling from the night before had not gone away as she had hoped it would. She still acutely felt the need for the British vamp as acutely as last night, if not more so. What had he done to her? Why did she have to crave HIM so?

This sour disposition stayed with her as she walked into school and headed through the aged oak of the library double doors. She pushed through, coming to face the worried countenances of her friends and anxious Watcher.

Worry covered the faces of three people at the table. One face remained impassive with the other remaining just studied her nails. The slayer had not checked in the night before and it had worried them. Now their fears were only slightly alleviated as she seemed to be dragging in her own personal dark cloud and the ominous marks on her neck.

Willow was the first to speak up, “Buffy, there you are. Are you okay?”

Buffy looked up and saw the worry in her friend’s eyes, “Not so much this morning Wills.” She looked over to where her Watcher and Xander still sat, identical worried masks on beside the two indifferent ones, “Last night some vamp beat me. We fought, he won, and he bit me.”

The faces of Xander and Willow became even deeper coated in worry, while Cordelia finally took notice as her expression became one of fear, “You aren’t a vampire, are you? Please don’t tell me you are, cause - Oh god, help!” She jumped up and put Giles between herself and the Slayer.

“That’s the thing, he pulled out after only a short while. He didn’t even attempt to drain me. “ She resisted the urge to laugh as Cordelia came out from behind Giles and sat regally in the chair next to Xander, examining her nails as if nothing had happened.

Willow turned to face a perplexed librarian, “Giles, why would they do that?”

Xander broke in, “Yeah, I would think any vamp would be thrilled to have a Slayer under his belt.”

Giles seemed to snap out of a daze, taking off his glasses as he began to pace restlessly, “I’m not sure. Vampires never hesitate to kill a victim, they are ruthless killers. That this one did is unheard of.”

“If I may,” Oz spoke up. “Maybe killing the Slayer wasn’t his objective. Perhaps it was more of a power thing.”

Giles continued pacing, gesturing with his hands, moving his glasses back and forth, “Yes I suppose that is a possibility. Many vampiric rituals deal with issues of dominance and blood. To do that, to show superiority over a Slayer, would be a great status symbol.”

“So in other words he just wants to show off and have her alive to prove it?”

Giles looked at the teen exasperated, “Yes, Xander, if you must simplify it so.” Giles replaced his glasses and turned back to his Slayer, “I’ll stay here and research certain rituals involving vampire bites. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

Buffy thought a bit, “Yeah, he said some words too. They weren’t in English, so I couldn’t understand.”

“Thank you, that will be most helpful. I’ll stay here tonight and look into that. Would you recognize the vampire who bit you?”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably suddenly finding the pattern on the carpet very interesting, a move that went unnoticed by her Watcher, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could.” She really hoped that he wouldn’t make her tell him it was Spike, it would first send him into a fit about why she hadn’t said something before. Add to that the research he’d make her do, trying to figure out why Spike, the slayer of Slayers, would behave that way. And to top it off, the over protectiveness that would emerge with the revelation of Spike’s identity.

Xander stood up, “Maybe I should patrol with you, just in case.”

Buffy scrambled her mind to come up with a good excuse. “No that’s okay. I’ve got Angel with me, I’ll be ok.”

Willow grabbed her best friend’s arm, “Oh, what did Angel say when he saw those?”

Buffy looked sheepishly at the redhead, “I haven’t told him yet. I haven’t seen his since I got bitten.”

***********



The day passed and with it the rains. They swept over the ground, washing the earth like teardrops from heaven. It settled on the ground, softening the earth. It stuck to the grass, who held the captive droplets as testament to the sin of the heavens.

Now the clouds had passed and the sky was clear, like a curtain drawn back. The half moon looked down on the world, kept company by the numerous stars. They shed their clear light down upon the world, making it so the marble seemed to glow.

The smell of the damp grass filled the air, masking the scent of death that lingered in the moonlit cemetery. The smell wafted up to the slayer, who sat on a monument nervously fidgeting. She did not notice the freshness of the air; her anxiety controlled her.

Angel was going to meet her here tonight. Her friends had called him and made sure that he knew to come. Buffy had begged them no to tell him about the bite yet, claiming that she really wanted to tell him about the incident herself.

In truth she was putting it off. She knew that he would overreact when he saw it. From what she had heard of vampire rituals and their habits from Giles’ attempts to educate her, bites were a big deal in their lives and were not only something used to feed.

But there was more beyond just the bite. It was the fact that this was Spike’s bite. She had heard that each vamp had his own distinctive bite like any human that could be recognized. After spending so much time with him Angel might recognize the pattern. She hoped he didn’t look that close.

Angel wove through the tombstones to where he would meet Buffy. Willow had called him this morning and told him that it was necessary that he patrol with the Slayer. The thought that she had been in danger had brought his heart to his throat, but Willow would not divulge any information. She had said that Buffy would enlighten him upon his arrival as to the urgency.

He came to the clearing where she sat basked in moonlight like a Grecian goddess. She was so beautiful he felt unclean, as if he was unworthy of her love. He would worship her if he had a chance, give her what he wanted, what she deserved. He would find a way, if it took him to the ends of the earth.

Suddenly his demon jumped up, something was wrong here. He took a step closer and let her scent waft over to him. His demon raged. Her scent had changed, become laced with a warning to any other vamp. The marks on her neck seemed to stand out brighter than any neon sign ever could.

Buffy looked up to see Angel looming over her, a strange look in his face. He was fighting back rage, she had never seen this look directed in her direction before, only at those who had tried to hurt her. Like the frat boys the year before, this was not a look she wanted aimed at her.


He knew, the mark on her neck told him what had happened. At that moment he felt like he needed to kill something, which he damn well was going to do. He had touched her! She was his! How dare he touch her! Not for the first time he wished with both his soul and his demon that he had placed his mark on her when he had the chance.

Buffy saw that his fists were clenched and he seemed to be fighting with himself. He spoke up in a deadly soft voice, “When did he claim you?”

Buffy couldn’t look at his face, it was too frightening, “Last night. We fought, but he was too strong. He beat me.”

Angel was silent for a moment, “How long has he been in town.”

Now was the moment of truth, she knew she was in trouble. She wasn’t used to lying to Angel and she wasn’t going to start now though, “A couple days, at least four.”

“FOUR DAYS!?! He’s been here for FOUR DAYS and you haven’t told anyone yet?! Why didn’t you tell me he’d come back? Why did you hide it? Buffy?” He was so upset, he was so hurt. Why would she keep this from him?

Buffy finally dared to look up at him and immediately wished she hadn’t. His face was a confliction of anger and despair all in one. He looked like he would tear something’s head off and at the same time he looked like he wanted to cry.

She couldn’t stand to see him cry. She would do anything to make him happy. She rose to her feet and moved to put her arms around him only to have him move away from her. Tears welled up in her eyes, why had he drawn away from her?

Angel saw the tears in her eyes. He wanted more than anything to take her in his arms and make it all go away. But he couldn’t. Those marks on her neck, he knew what they meant. He couldn’t touch her. “Buffy, I’m so sorry. I can’t: that bite, he claimed you. I can’t touch you at all without his permission or without challenging him face to face.”

“You have to have Spike’s permission to HUG me?!?”

Angel looked down, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Buffy sat back on the tombstone and let her head fall into her hands. Then another thing came to Angel belatedly, “Do your friends know?”

“Know what?”

“Know that Spike is back.”

She shook her head, “No, I haven’t told them. I didn’t want to worry them at first, and now when they find out that I knew and didn’t tell them, oh god they are gonna be so angry with me!”

Angel sighed, “Buffy, we all care about you. We get to worry about you. If Xander knew that the Mummy Girl was back and didn’t tell you, what would you think?”

“But that’s different! I’m the slayer!”

“And we still care about you.”

She sniffed and looked back up at him. “Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you tell me what’s going on with me?”

Angel looked down at her with sorrow. How could Spike get this and he didn’t? What had Spike done to deserve her? “I’m sorry, I could but it’s really not my place to tell you.”

“No, it’s mine.”
 

Chapter 3:

Spike emerged from the shadows in that way where it seemed that he had materialized from the night itself. He stood there an apparition of white skin cloaked in black. The moonlight glinted off his sharp cheekbones and his hair shone in the cool night air.

Angel’s game face, which had been hiding beneath the surface waiting to come out, came to the forefront with the arrival of his child. Spike had taken what had been his. How dare he?! Every demon in Sunnydale knew that the slayer belonged to him! Even without the mark they knew. And now to be usurped.

And by his childe no less. The demon inside him raged at this. First he had betrayed him the year before, a move that was unheard of in vampire history, at least among reputable vamps, and now Spike had gone further to affront him. Angel thought that he might kill his wayward childe right there and take the claim by right.

Spike seemed to sense the older vampire’s feelings. He smirked at him but nevertheless shifted a bit so that he would be able to spring into action faster if the need arise. He knew his sire was not above attacking him to get the slayer. But he also knew that he could beat his sire; the blood that he had drank the night before was still rushing through his viens and the claiming bond gave him extra strength. There was no way Angel could beat him now. He wondered if Angel knew that himself.

He wasn’t surprised that Angel was unable to touch the slayer at all. The claim worked so that anyone who touched his slayer with more than friendly thoughts would be subject to custom. Vampires that broke custom were hunted down and killed without mercy. Although Angel was ensouled, he had never blatantly gone back on custom except when he had killed his sire and helped in the destruction of the Master and these were overlooked due to the existence of his soul, which some believed to be driving him insane, and that the master was becoming very unpopular to many vampires..

To poach on someone else’s claim was a serious offense. Even his soul would not excuse him from punishment and he knew it. Vampires were creatures of honor, they respected each other’s territory and rights. Those that didn’t were disposed of to prevent chaos. The customs had been set up a thousand years before during the dark ages when vampires were fighting wars over territory and feeding. Their wars had wiped out small villages and nearly starved them. From then every vampire had to swear to respect the territories and hunting rights of every other in order to preserve the peace. Those that had broken that vow since had been captured and tortured.

Buffy was in agony. Not twenty feet away was Spike, who she knew could calm the raging inferno beneath her skin. She had felt the need for him all day and had felt her body call and beg for him. There he was, and though she hated him she needed him. So while her mind was screaming at her to kill him her body wanted desperately to fall into his arms.

All day she had felt this. She had been distracted during class and with Giles later as he tried to research what was happening to her. Of course he hadn’t found anything useful, the books on vampires that he had were extremely limited. Apparently the council didn’t know much about them aside from the obvious. He was still there now, trying to sort through all his books trying to find some reference to rituals involving bites.

Spike knew what she was feeling, he could sense it. He had not completed the claim yet, she would feel that yearning until he did. But he wouldn’t do that, not yet. He would have patience, something he was not good at he admitted to himself, and bring her slowly into his claim. He felt the burn for her as well, if not as strongly as she felt for him. He was the one who held the cards, that was the way the claim worked. Self-preservation for the vampire.

Angel growled and Spike returned his gaze to his wayward grandsire. “Peaches, so good of you to look after her. I really appreciate it mate.”

Angel nearly barked out his answer with his rage, “Spike, you bastard.”

Spike cocked his head to the side with feigned ignorance, “Something bothering you, you’re lookin’ somewhat tense.”

“You know damn well what’s wrong. You took my mate!”

Spike’s anger rose within him but he was able to keep it in check, “YOUR mate? I see no mark on her and your scent on her is not strong enough to be recognized by some.” His voice lowered dangerously, “I don’t bloody well care what arrangement you’ve set up with the local community, the laws still apply. You didn’t claim her. She’s mine.”

Angel lunged at the younger vampire, his anger finally boiling over. Buffy was his, dammit, and no one was taking her away from him.

Spike sidestepped his sire easily. He waited as Angel regained his footing as Angel came back at him with a right hook aimed at his jaw. Spike ducked only to get the left in his gut. Angel’s success was short-lived as Spike recovered with his own jab to his nose. For a short time the two fought, Angel attacking and Spike dodging easily while landing a few blows of his own. Finally Spike got tired of beating on Angel and dodged a hard punch from his sire, putting him behind his sire with his hands on Angel’s head, ready to rip it off.

From the sidelines Buffy yelled, “STOP!” She didn’t want to see Angel dust. She would feel so guilty, having just brought him from hell only to send him back so quickly. She would have said something earlier, but she was overwhelmed that these two men were fighting over her.

Spike looked over at the woman sitting on the stone who wore his mark. He wanted nothing more than to tear off his sire’s arrogant head and send him into oblivion. But the look on the Slayer’s face would be devastating. He nodded and let go of Angel’s head, taking a step back as his sire fell to the ground, pride hurt more than his body.

Spike stepped back as Angel stood up. Angel was conflicted, it was unusual for him to lose a fight and when he did he usually ran. But now his desire to protect Buffy was conflicting with his urge to leave. He looked over at her, still sitting on the tombstone, looking very conflicted herself.

Spike saw the look in his sire’s eyes, knowing what he was thinking. He had spent a great deal of Angelus in his early years, and knew his habits. Of course he knew that his sire was getting ready to flee, or was thinking about it. He would have laughed at the situation, but the thought that Angel thought that he would hurt Buffy angered him. “Don’t worry, Peaches, you can leave. I won’t hurt my mate.” He smirked, “Well, almost my mate.”

Angel growled, “I’m not leaving you alone with her.”

Spike cocked his head to the side, “Oh really? Still whipped, huh?” He paused for a moment before continuing, “You can’t keep me from her forever. She’s mine.”

Buffy was getting pissed. She hated when people talked as if she wasn’t in the room, “You don’t own me, Spike. I don’t belong to anyone!”

Spike chuckled, “Come here, luv.”

Buffy felt her body responding. As if they had a will of their own, her arms pushed her up and she walked towards him. She had no other thought than to GO TO SPIKE. She walked up to him until she was less than a foot away where she stopped, looking up at him.

Spike was pleased with her obedience. He reached a hand out and brushed a hair behind her ear, letting the back of his hand trace a path down the side of her face over her chin, while his other arm wrapped around her waist. Her skin tingled in the wake of his hand, as if he had set sparks beneath her skin. The chaos within her calmed somewhat with his touch.

His hand came to rest on the side of her face and she unconsciously leaned into in. He lowered his mouth until it was next to her ear and his voice was low, “It appears that you do belong to me. Your body at least knows it.”

Her anger rose at that. No one owned her, no matter what her body said. Finding some will power deep inside her she put her hands against his chest and pushed. He sensed what she was about to do and released her, allowing her to leave his embrace.

Immediately after he let go the feeling of emptiness returned to her, so strong that she almost wanted to return to his arms just to make this feeling of loneliness leave. She didn’t though, she needed to be strong. She backed up a few steps to show her resolve. She needed to show him that he had no effect on her, or to pretend it.

Angel had watched the entire display with anger. It had infuriated him, but he was unable to do anything about it. He knew that once given a command, the claimed human could do nothing but obey, doing everything in their power to do so. And to try and stop her would be a major breach of Spike’s rights, and he wasn’t about to risk being hunted by every vampire on earth for it.

Spike looked at the woman over whom he held his claim. He saw her attempts to defy his authority, smiling gently. She was so beautiful, so powerful. He knew that her body must be protesting her actions but she persevered in her stubbornness all the more. It was adorable, “I will come for you, Buffy. You’re mine and eventually you will accept that.”

She shouted back at him, “Never, Spike.”

He chuckled softly, “I’ll be coming to see you and your friends tomorrow, pet. I suggest you go and tell them that. I’ll be explaining my claim then.” Then all of a sudden he was less than a foot away from her, running his hand down her face to cup her chin “‘Till then, luv.”

He disappeared back into the night as suddenly as he appeared. Buffy stood there, still in turmoil. Her body craved his touch and the few moments in his arms had been the only time in the last twenty-four hours when she had been at peace. She could have wept.

Behind her she heard Angel growling and turned to look. His eyes were focused on the spot where Spike had stood just a moment ago. He was growling softly and his eyes were golden as he had reverted to his game face at some point.

“Angel, you OK?”

Angel couldn’t look at her, “I should have challenged him. I should have tried.” He turned around so his back was to her, “Dammit! How could I have underestimated him again!”

Buffy slowly approached his back, “Angel, are you ok?”

His shoulders sagged and he sighed, “Buffy, I failed you. I couldn’t beat him, I couldn’t protect you.”

“You didn’t fail me. There was nothing you could do, my blood is making him stronger still. I don’t need you to protect me. I’m strong, I’ll deal with it.”

He spun to face her, his eyes blazing, “You can’t fight him! You saw how he controlled you, one command and he could make you do whatever he wants! You’re completely defenseless against that.” He let his frustration flow out. He needed the anger, he embraced it. Anger was the only thing that was keeping back the tears.

Buffy saw beneath his anger, how close he was to tears and it broke her heart. “I know. There’s nothing we can do though.” She sighed, “We better go tell Giles. I’m not sure if Spike was serious, but we better be prepared in case he does come.” She turned towards the entrance of the cemetery, “You coming?”

“Don’t blow this off! This isn’t some joke!”

Buffy spun around, “You think I don’t know that?!? I know that better than you think! I can feel him, under my skin. I feel this need for him. I know this isn’t some game, or a nightmare I’m going to wake up from. I know how serious it is. But there’s no use fighting it. He holds all the cards here. So let’s deal with the problems we can, and for that we need to go tell Giles.”

She turned and stomped off towards the entrance of the cemetery and the school, Angel following glumly behind her. She was right, he knew. But it didn’t ease his hurt pride. He had wanted the Slayer to be his, had already started on the search for a way to anchor his soul.

He had planned it all out. There was a shaman in Africa who he heard was an expert on soul restoration and all that. He had planned to visit him after Faith returned to town and the problems with Mr. Trick had been taken care of. He had planned to anchor down his soul. When that was done he had planned to ask Buffy to accept his claim.

Now that would never happen. Unless Spike was willing to transfer the claim, there was no way that Buffy would ever be his. Spike had killed two Slayers, and his strength had been increased by those kills. There was no way that Angel could win if he formally challenged him. All that would result in was getting him killed. And although he didn’t like the situation, he would still didn’t look forward to returning to hell any time soon.

And so the two figures stalked through the night, two silent predators weary of the fight. They walked with their heads high throughout all trials, taking it all with the resolve of a tin soldier, trying not to show how each blow would weaken them.

From the side the third warrior watched, his expression blank. He didn’t know what was coming and he braced himself for the next day. He had made a choice when he claimed the Slayer, and he had no intention of going back on it. He couldn’t if he wanted to. The claim tied them to each other for eternity.

Sighing he returned to the house where he had taken up residence. He took out a bag of blood from the fridge and drained it before stripping down and falling into bed. Tomorrow would be trying, and he needed to be ready.

****
 

Chapter 4:

******

The afternoon was overcast on the day following the confrontation in
the cemetery. Buffy knew what was coming now, she was dreading
the confrontation between Spike and her Watcher and friends. Angel
had asked to be there as well, but after his reaction last night, she had
thought it better if he stayed away for now.

The conversation with her watcher the night before had gone just as
she had expected it to. Her friends had been sitting around the tables
looking through dusty old tomes as she walked through the door.
Giles had emerged from his office at the sound of the door, carrying
one of the Watcher diaries from some long-dead tweed-wearer.

“Hey guys,” she called out to get their attention. She wasn’t sure how
to broach the subject before her, because this sort of thing had never
happened before. She thought it best to get it out, “Um, I met the
vampire who bit me on patrol tonight.”

Willow rushed over to your friend, “Oh my gosh, are you ok?”

Buffy nodded, “Yeah I’m fine.”

“How did Angel react?”

Buffy sighed, “Worse than I thought. He went totally berserk,
growling and trying to kill the guy.”

“Did he win?”

“No, he got beaten real bad. But that’s off topic. I’m here to say that
Giles,” She looked up at her Watcher then, the concern showing in his
eyes, “Spike’s gonna be paying you a visit tomorrow.”

Giles nearly dropped the book in his hand, “SPIKE?!? Spike’s
coming here? Why?” He believed he already knew the answer, and
wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what was about to come out of his
Slayer’s mouth.

Buffy’s eyes dropped to the floor. Better get this over with, “Spike is
the one who bit me. He came up to me four days ago and said that
he’d left Drusilla and came back to Sunnydale for me.” She braced
herself for what was about to come.

“FOUR DAYS, Buffy why didn’t you tell us he was back in town?”


“I’m sorry, I - ”

“Buffy this is serious!”

“I know that Giles!”

“Don’t you think we deserve to know that he’s come back? What if
he had come after one of us? We would be completely unprepared for
such an action.”

“I wasn’t thinking - ”

“No, you obviously weren’t. Honestly Buffy sometimes your
negligence is just stunning.”

Buffy was near to tears. She had expected this, yes, but it still hurt to
hear her Watcher say these things. “I’m sorry, Giles.”

Willow saw the state her best friend was in and came to her, “C’mon,
Buffy. We just wish you had told us.”

“Did you tell him not to come?”

She shook her head, “I couldn’t. Besides, would he have listened to
me anyway? He’s gonna come whether we want him to or not.”

Giles took off his glasses to polish them, “Yes, well I thank you for
that kernel of information. We shall be sure to be prepared tomorrow
evening for his arrival. I will be speaking to you though. You should
not be keeping things to yourself for any reason.”

Giles had walked into his office and Willow had brought the
distraught slayer home.

Now after a night’s sleep she didn’t feel any better as she walked into
school on an overcast afternoon. She walked down the corridors filled
with the yellow-white light of industrial florescent light bulbs that are
in every school across the country so that corrupt penny-pinchers
could save money.

She came to the doors of the library and put her hands on the rough
wood and pushed open the door with ease as it skimmed against the
carpet that inhabited the library collecting more dust to add to those
on the books. The light filtered through the shelves to fall upon the
center of the library where the table sat in the middle of the room
where the slayer was accustomed to train.

Clustered to one side of the room were Giles Willow and Xander,
grouped together like frightened sheep cowering in a corner of the
pen. On all of their faces were expressions of fear or panic aimed at
the person in the center of the room between them and the weapons
cage.

There at the table between the office and the weapons cage stood
Spike, swathed in leather. He radiated strength and confidence with
his black duster hanging from his frame and molding to the contours
of his upper back. He looked intimidating without any effort, standing
at the table idly flipping through some of the books that had been left
there with minimal interest. They didn’t concern him.

He knew what they had been doing with those tomes. He could see
the text and he could read several different languages both demon and
human. These books were of no interest to him. Even if they could
find what had happened to the slayer, there was no way they could
change it. And from looking at the direction of their research, he
knew they were nowhere near anything important. He felt her come in
and he turned to face her.

Buffy saw him turn to face her and the world seemed to stop. There
he was, his handsome face with its high cheekbones and emerald blue
eyes that seemed to look through her. His lips were so soft and his
skin looked so smooth. His white hair stood in stark contrast to his
black leather, and provided a visual for all the contradictions in his
personality that she would learn of.

He stood there in the library which she considered another home to
her. He stood in the middle of her safe haven in the daytime no less!
But still her body called out to him as it had since his bite with the
brief respite that she had experienced in his arms the night before. His
eyes bore into her and she felt a war start within her.

She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to stay. She wanted to curl
into a ball somewhere far away. She wanted to curl up in his lap. She
wanted to rush to her watcher. She wanted to rush to Spike and have
his arms around her.

She settled for none of those, instead she stood just inside the door,
her arms crossed in front of her, “What are you doing here, Spike?”

He looked shocked, “Why, Slayer, I told you I would be dropping in
today. I’m sure you told your friends that too. Your surprise is quite
shocking.”

In an exasperated tone of voice Buffy replied, “I mean why NOW. It’s
daylight outside, we weren’t expecting you till sunset.”

“I bloody well knew what you meant. I figured that by nightfall that
your watcher here would be stocked up on weapons so I figured I
might come before that happened.” He crossed to one of the chairs
and sat, propping his boots up on the table. “Besides, I figure this is as
good a time as any to have a little chat, don’t you?”

He saw the anxiety in the faces of the huddled humans, “You can
bring crosses with you, if it makes you feel better.”

Giles’ sent Willow into his office and she retrieved three wooden
crosses that had been in his drawers. They approached slowly,
crosses outstretched as Spike sat at the table. Buffy crossed the room
and drew out a chair, facing the blonde vamp so she could glare at
him.

Her friends drew out chairs and cautiously sat down, following the
slayer’s lead. There was silence for a while as the tension and fear in
the air seemed to smother the three weak humans clutching at the
wooden slats that were crosses.

Finally Spike spoke up, “Not that I’m not loving the fear simmering
in the air here, but I think that you blokes wanted to talk to me.”

Giles took off his glasses, “Q-q-quite right. Um, first, why are you
here, exactly?”

Spike smirked, “Thought the Slayer had told you that. I came back for
her.”

“A-anything else?”

“Nothing that I’m ready to talk about now. Let’s just say I’m a white
hat.”

“What caused this change?”

Xander spoke up, insolent and brave behind the false protection of the
cross he held, “Why should we believe you anyway?”

Spike growled. He could smell the boy. He lusted after HIS Buffy, it
was all around him. Stupid child couldn’t appreciate what he had. He
could smell Cordelia all over him (the boy was a virgin, but they’d
been close) and yet the whelp still lusted after the slayer. “That’s none
of your business. I told you, I’m not bloody well gonna talk about it
yet.”

Buffy spoke up, “Say I believe you, that you’re not gonna harm us,
where does that leave us?”

Spike looked at her, “I’m here to help you, make sure you get along
well.” He looked around at them, “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna get along
with your mates here. I have no business with them.”

“Why do you want to help me Spike?”

Spike smirked, “You know why. I claimed you, and I take care of
what’s mine.”

Giles cleared his throat before starting up again, “Yes, um, that is the
matter at hand. What is this claim?”

Spike turned his eyes to the flustered librarian, “It means that she’s
mine. I bit her and claimed her.” He took out his lighter and started
twirling it in his fingers, “My claim offers her protection from other
vamps. It also provides other benefits that are rather, personal.” He
smirked here. “Plus others once I complete the ritual.”

“Y-you need something else?”

“Yeah, but that I’m not discussing either. Besides, if I did the
probability of me getting to go through with it become less.”

“What if we don’t want your help?” this of coarse from Xander, who
had been glaring at the vamp the entire interview.

Spike’s head snapped back to the youth and Xander blanched slightly
but held his ground, “It’s not up to you, boy.” He lowered his voice
before speaking the next line, “Make no mistake, whelp, I am not
Peaches. I do not take kindly to people interfering in my business.”

“Yeah, I know you’re not like him. He at least has a soul to lift him
above your status as a worthless monster.”

It took all Spike had not to leap across the table and rip Xander’s
throat out. He growled loudly and barked out “Watch your tongue. I
give you one free pass on account of the slayer. Next time I might not
be so giving.”

He glared across the table, “You think I don’t know what’s going on?
I can smell you. You want what’s mine. You lust for my slayer.” Eyes
turned to Xander at this comment, “Angel might have put up with
that, but if you don’t grow up I’m not sure I can hold back, mate.”

Xander didn’t back down, he had always wanted Buffy. He had
looked at all others who caught her attention with jealous anger. It had
become a way of life for him, and he wasn’t about to stop now, “So
what. Doesn’t make it any less true.”

Buffy realized that this was not a line that was going to end well. She
decided that this was time to end this and set some peace to the room,
“Xander, that’s enough. Why don’t you go tell Angel not to come
tonight?”

“And leave you here with him? No.”

“It’s not up for debate, Xander. Go.”

Xander, thoroughly snubbed, stood up and walked out of the library,
slamming the doors behind him as he left. With him left a lot of the
tension that had been hanging in the air for the past few minutes.
Spike seemed more relaxed and more amicable now that the teen had
left the room.

Buffy turned back to the blonde vampire. She had known that Xander
had a thing for her, and had suspected that it affected his attitude
towards Angel. However the extent of his obsession was kind of
disturbing. She tried to turn her mind away from that now, “What did
you do to me, Spike?”

“I told you already, luv. I claimed you. I gave you my protection and
told the world that you are mine.”


“Why do I feel this way?”

“You’ll feel that we until we complete the ritual.”

Giles spoke up, “What ritual, exactly?”

“I’m going to make her my mate as well.”

Giles needed a bit more clarification, “What does a mate entail? How
does it differ from a claim?”

“I never intended to just claim her. I want to be by her side forever.
By completing the ritual she will still be a human, but she will
become an immortal. Or rather, she will realize her immortality. And
I get the nifty advantage of daylight immunity.”

Buffy was skeptical, “Sounds great. What’s the catch?”

He smirked, “You’re bound to me eternally.”

“Uh-huh. And how do we complete this ritual?”

Spike looked down at the lighter in his hand, “It’s not important now.
It’s not time yet.” He stood up and walked so that he was looking
down at her, “I’m gonna help you, luv. I’ll make sure you’re alright.”

“But why, Spike. Why are you so concerned?”

He smiled, “that’s a story for another day.” He looked at all of them
before he walked out the door.

Willow spoke up, “Well, that was eventful.”

“What does he mean ‘realize my immortality’?”

*******

what indeed?
feedback please
TBC

Chapter 5:

The streets were nearly bare that night, nearly all the
residents of the small town having figured not to stay
out long after dark. No other footsteps disturbed the
silence of the night.

Angel was hunting. His instincts, which had been so
long quashed, he now turned to in order that he succeed
this night. His prey was one where he would need those
instincts which were now unfaithful due to lack of use.

Years of malnourishment had dulled his senses, since
he had been en-souled he hadn’t been eating as he
should have been. Rats and other small creatures
weren’t enough for a large vampire like him. And even
after he had begun buying butcher’s blood, he hadn’t
had as much as he should have.

He remembered how Angelus had felt when he had
realized how much of his strength had been lost. He had
been thrilled to find Spike in a wheelchair, knowing
that he would be of no match to the younger man if
Spike had been well. It had been infuriating to know
that he had been surpassed as the head of his family by
a younger male.

Now for the first time Angel regretted his self-
deprivation. At his full strength he would have been
able to pick up his childe’s scent a mile away. Hell, at
his full strength he would be able to sense his childe
from anywhere in the city.

He prowled around the city, looking for the places
where he knew Spike had been. If he was at a place
where Spike had been, he could track his childe’s scent
from there.

Hopefully.

He searched through the cemetaries, keeping alert for
any trace of his childe’s scent. Anything at all to help
him learn where Spike had been would help.

A scent wafted to his nose. Buffy. It was a few days old
but it was strong. He must have stumbled across the
area where she patrolled. He knew that she hadn’t taken
her usual route the night before due to the fact that she
left after her meeting with him and Spike.

He indulged himself briefly, and drew her scent into his
nose. He loved her scent, rich and full of innocence and
power masked with a scent of vanilla. He began moving
towards the source, following her patrol route.

He came to the area where Buffy had stopped the other
night. Here he picked it up. Spike. This was where her
old scent stopped and became saturated with his. Plus
there was some other scent here. He wracked his brain
for the origin of this scent. His demon emerged.

The area was filled with the scent of Buffy and of his
childe. He could almost trace out the moves they had
made with what his nose was telling him.

Then there was the spot where he knew that Spike had
claimed her. He could smell her blood on the air, and
the scent of his childe’s blood as well even if it was
weaker and fainter that her scent. The scent that raised
his demon and caused him to see red was the smell of
Buffy’s arousal. Spike had made her come with his bite.

This wasn’t unheard of, he knew. But still it angered
him when the scent filled his nostrils. The demon in
him believed that Buffy was his and to have this scent
wafting around only served to enrage it.

Spike’s scent was strong here even as Buffy’s scent,
now changed and saturated with the scent of his childe,
veered off and headed towards her house. He thanked
his stars for that fact, that Spike had not taken the time
to hide his scent here.

He followed Spike’s scent back through the woods and
out of the cemetery. It went through the streets across
the small town to one of the residential streets. He
followed it through here to a reasonable house where
the scent seemed to go inside.

This was it, this was where Spike was hiding himself. A
one-story house with thick curtains covering the
windows. The walls were whitewashed wooden planks
and the door was oak and looked solid.

Spike was inside in the living room when he felt the
presence of his sire. He was watching an episode of
Passions which had been taped using the Tivo that was
hooked up to the satellite. He took a breath and walked
to the door, opening it to reveal a very angry looking
Angel.

“Tried to break the door down, huh Peaches?”

Angel growled, pressing against the barrier in the
doorway. He had done just that, but had found that the
invite barrier was over the threshold, preventing him
from making any movement against the house. “Why
can’t I get in, Spike?”

Spike grinned, staying on the inside of the door if only
to enjoy the enraged look on his sire’s face at his
inability to enter the house. It was too damn funny,
“Owner’s human, and he’s still alive. I’m renting it
from him since he’s out of the country for a while. I met
him when I came into town and we talked a bit and he
offered to let me stay while he was out of town.” He
was enjoying the look on his sire’s face right now. If he
only had a camera, “Fully furnished too. All I gotta do
is pay the bills while he’s gone and I get a swell place to
stay. Now is there some reason you’re here?”

“You know damn well why I’m here.”

Of course Spike knew, but he wanted to irritate Angel
more while the elder vamp was helpless to do anything.
Besides, Passions was taped, he could stay out here as
long as he wanted, “Was it to tell me that you’re finally
going to lay off the hair gel and complement me for my
stellar fashion taste?”

“Buffy.”

“Ah yes, the Slayer. My mate. What about her?”

“I want you to give up your claim to her.”

Spike’s smile vanished. He knew this was what his sire
wanted and he wasn’t going to give up his mate, “Not a
chance, mate. I’m not giving her up just because you
didn’t have the guts to do it yourself.”

“Then I challenge you for the claim.” Angel really
hadn’t wanted to do that. He had hoped that Spike
would be intimidated by him, but the fact that Spike
was living in a house owned by someone else, who
happened to be living, had put a damper on that. Even if
there hadn’t been a barrier, Spike probably wouldn’t
have backed down.

Angel wouldn’t win this fight, he knew that. It was not
very likely that he could regain much, if any, of his
former strength that would allow him to overcome the
younger vamp. This was yet another intimidation tactic.

Spike thought for a second. He knew that he was
stronger than his sire. The scent that Angel was giving
off now was not one of confidence, but of uncertainty
and fear. He knew also that the time Angel had spent
under-feeding would have destroyed much of his
strength. This was a fight he would be sure to win, and
after that Angel would have to forfeit all rights to the
Slayer. He would never be able to challenge his claim
again.

Spike came to his decision and spoke to his sire, “I
accept the challenge. When are we gonna fight? You
know the Slayer will have to be there for it, don’t you?”

Angel felt his insides fall. Spike had seen through him.
He knew what would happen when he lost. If Spike
didn’t kill him, which would be his right, he would
never be able to challenge him ever again. He wished
now that he had waited, gained some of his strength
back before challenging Spike.

He was able to keep a straight face though. He knew his
scent must be telling how he was feeling now (much to
Spike’s joy and amusement) but he wouldn’t give him
visual conformation to gloat on as well. “In two days at
midnight. Restfield cemetery. That should give enough
time to summon up the appropriate officials.”

Spike nodded. Certain members of the demon
community would have to be there to witness the event.
“I’ll go summon them tomorrow. Who’s gonna tell the
slayer?”

Angel looked down, he knew that this wasn’t going to
be pleasent. She’d probably be upset or angry when he
explained it to her, “I’ll do it. I’ll want to tell her what’s
going on.”

Spike shrugged. There wasn’t anything Angel could do
anyway. Might as well let him talk to the slayer and let
her know what was going on, “Alright mate. I’ll see you
in two days.” He closed the door in Angel’s face,
reveling in that he was able to do that. He loved pissing
off his sire.

He returned to the living room after making a pit stop at
the kitchen for some blood. He fell into the chair and
ripped the first bag open with his fangs downing it
quickly. He would need to be well fed for the fight. He
knew he would win, but still it didn’t hurt to keep in
shape. He flipped through the guide and returned to his
episode of Passions.

He would defeat his sire and then nobody would
challenge him for his mate. He looked forward to
beating his sire. But he didn’t envy Angel’s job, he
didn’t want to be the one who told the slayer what was
going on. She was a phenomanal woman, but he knew
that she had a short fuse, which he had been on the
recieving end of a time too many.

He looked around his home. He had rented it not only to
provide a place where demon’s couldn’t enter without
an invite, but also to impress his mate. It was
comfortably decorated and would provide a good place
for them.


He turned his attention to the tv again. Soon the time
would come. He would show her how he lived, that
he’d changed. He’d earn her trust. Then he would have
the most beautiful creature at his side. He smiled, the
people on the screen flashing before him. Soon.

*********************************
 

Chapter 6:

“I HAVE TO WHAT?!?”

Angel cringed. He knew that Buffy wouldn’t receive
the news of the challenge well. And he had been
certain that this particular point would not be warmly
received. This was the point which he had really
dreaded telling her about.

For a moment he wondered to himself why he had
volunteered to be the one to tell her about her role in
the upcoming fight. He must have known that she
would react this way. With her experiences he should
have known she wouldn’t be open to this.

So why had he volunteered to be the one to tell her?
He looked down at her, sitting on the tombstone with
her arms crossed across her chest. Oh yeah, so he
could see her again before the fight.

“Buffy, I promise, nothing is going to happen.”

“Then why do I have to be chained up?”

“It’s an ancient tradition that’s been passed down for
thousands of years and neither Spike nor myself is
going to try and change it.”

“Yeah, well it’s a dumb tradition.”

“Buffy, demons are very particular creatures that are
prone to habit. They don’t like to change custom and
the thought of it is hard for them to take in.”

“So be a trendsetter.”

“Buffy I’m already not very highly esteemed in the
demon world and doing that would just serve to
infuriate them more and put me in greater danger.”

Buffy started to pout. She hated this, that she would
have to be chained up just so those two could have a
fight to see which one of them had claim to her. No
one owned her! This sucked.

Angel looked down at Buffy sitting on a tombstone
pouting. She looked so beautiful there, and he knew
again why he had volunteered to tell her about the
challenge. He knew that he might not get to see her
again before it happened and he didn’t think he
would live after it.

“Buffy there’s something else.”

“What, do I have to be dressed like princess Leia as
well?”

Angel didn’t take the time to appreciate the mental
picture of Buffy in a revealing slave outfit like Leia
had been dressed in. Well, not much time anyway.
“No, it’s not that.”

Buffy heard the tone in his voice, the worry and
hesitation. There was something important that he
was going to tell her and he was afraid it would upset
her, “Angel, what’s wrong?” Angel was fidgeting
slightly, trying his best to look anywhere but at her,
“Angel, tell me. Please.”

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. This
would hurt her, he knew, “At the end of the fight, it
is customary that the winner kill the defeated
challenger.”

He looked down finally into her face and almost
instantly regretted it. Her face was a portrait of hurt,
and he could see the pain in her eyes. He wished
again more than ever that he could reach out and
embrace her but the rules of the claim stopped him.
He couldn’t touch her without Spike’s consent if he
felt anything for her. And now he felt love and
sympathy streaming through himself.

Buffy looked up at him, “Maybe, you could beat
him?”

Angel shook his head, “There’s no way. He’s faster
and stronger than I am. I haven’t been eating as I
should have. If the contest had been scheduled a year
from now I wouldn’t be able to build up enough
strength.” His head fell, “I’m sorry.”

Buffy backed away, her eyes brimming over with
tears. Angel saw it and took a step towards her as if
to console her, but she turned from him and ran
through the cemetery. As she flew out of sight Angel
wished with all his might that he hadn’t challenged
Spike. He sat down on the tombstone his beloved
had just vacated and let his head fall to his hands.

He sat there his head in his hands, and in the first
time in so many years, he allowed himself to cry. He
cried out his pain at the frustration of losing her to
his childe. He cried his pain of causing her to suffer.
He cried at the thought of dying and never seeing her
again. He regretted his decision and wished again
that he could take it all back.

Buffy dashed through the cemetery, her eyes filled
with tears. She hoped for some vamp to come across
her path for her to take out this aggression on. She
needed something, anything, to take away from the
pain she felt.

She was filled with all these feelings of pain and
anger. How could he do that to her? He had to know
that this would be devastating for her, so why on
earth did he accept that damn challenge? She needed
to find some way to deal with all this before she had
to see it tomorrow evening.

She suddenly found herself on the ground looking up
at a blonde vampire. She had been so preoccupied
with trying to escape from Angel and the pain she
was feeling that she hadn’t noticed him until she ran
smack into him. Now she was on the ground looking
up at him standing there holding a grocery bag in one
arm and a cigarette in the other hand with one
eyebrow quirked at her.

“Hello luv, what you doin’ out here?”

“Leave me alone, Spike. What business is it of yours
anyway?”

“It’s my business when my woman goes running
through the cemetery lookin’ like a kicked puppy and
not whatching where she’s headed.” He extended a
hand to help her up.

She looked scathingly up at him, knocking back the
offered hand and secretly thrilling in the tingling that
raced through her at the brief contact. She pushed
that feeling aside and focused on all the pain she felt,
“I’m not your woman, Spike.”

Spike’s eyebrows raised at this, and the slap that she
had given him. He knew what was going through
her, and decided that things needed to be explained
to her. He took a few steps and placed the grocery
bag on an above-ground tomb before he brought the
cigarette to his lips. “The marks on your neck say
otherwise, luv.” He blew the smoke out from his
lungs, creating a blue-grey cloud of smoke in the
moonlight, “I’m guessing Peaches told you about our
little fight tomorrow night.”

“He said you were gonna kill him.”

“I wonder where he got that idea?”

“He said it was customary for the winner to kill the
loser. He said he wasn’t going to win.”

Spike smiled a small half smile, “Well, he’s half
right, I am going to win.” He took a drag on his
cigarette before he continued, “‘m not gonna kill ‘im
though.”


Buffy felt her spirits lift a little at this declaration.
She knew he wasn’t lying. Through the bond she felt
his sincerity, she couldn’t explain it but she knew
that he was telling her the truth. But still, she had to
give him a hard time about it, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you going to kill him?”

He blew out smoke, “It’s an old custom luv. He
might be right in saying that demons are very much
tied to their old ways but what can I say,” he smiled,
“I’m a trendsetter.” He paused, “Besides, I’m not
required to kill him, it’s just an option made up long
ago to make sure that challengers wouldn’t be a
threat after losing the fight. It’s not really necessary
in this instance.”

“So why did he sound so sure that he was going to die?”

He looked over at her, “You sure you wanna hear
this, luv?”

She nodded, “I’m sure, I wouldn’t have asked
otherwise.”

He drew in a deep breath and then spoke to her,
“After he loses he will never be able to challenge me
for that again. He knows that and he can’t bear the
thought of losing. He never could. I expect that he
wants to die tomorrow when he loses. He might beg
me to kill him.”

“But you won’t, right?”

He looked over at her, she wasn’t as shocked by this
as he thought she would be. She had probably
figured out by now that Angelus didn’t like to lose,
something that his souled counterpart shared. He was
secretly pleased, his girl was smart and strong, “No,
luv, I won’t. Wouldn’t do that to you.”

She looked down, “Why do you care so much?”

He chuckled, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and
opening it. He took a swig and offered it to her,
which she took with little fuss. “I told you, I’m a
white hat now.”

She scoffed, taking a swig of the hard liquor and
making a face as it burned its way down her throat.
She handed the bottle back as he himself took a swig
without a grimace on his face. He handed the bottle
back to her and they sat in the clearing drinking.

A while passed while they sat out there drinking,
until it came to Spike’s attention just how the drink
was affecting the small slayer. He looked over at her,
“Perhaps we should head inside luv.”

“Tha’s a great idea, where’s we go’n’?”

He had picked up the grocery bag and had put the
bottle with the amber liquid inside. She lurched
forward towards him and lost her balance, but he
quickly reached out and steadied her, slipping one
arm around her waist. “We’re goin’ to m’ house. It’s
closer than yours and if you want I can take you
home from there.”

She turned to look up at him, loving the feeling of
being in contact with him that was created with the
claim. “Naw, we’sh can shtay at your placshe.”

He chuckled, “Good, since there are no objections,
off we go.”

They walked through the cemetery to the small house
that Spike rented. He pulled out the key, not a small
task while holding a grocery bag and a slayer, and
unlocked the door, ushering in the small girl and
leaving her in the living room while he deposited his
things in the kitchen.

As Buffy began to flip through the channels Spike
unloaded his groceries. Six bags of human blood
from the blood bank, five bags of orangutan blood,
two boxes of Wheetabix, and a pint of Double Fudge
Brownie Ice cream which he left out. He pulled out
two spoons and headed out to the living room where
the slayer was sitting and threw himself onto the sofa
next to her, opening the pint of ice cream and diving
into it.

Buffy noticed the shift of the sofa that came when he
sat down and stopped flipping to look over and see
him eating the ice cream. “Ohh, Ice cream!” She
reached out for it.

Spike held it away from her, amused at her attempts
for the pint, “Now now, what’s the magic word?”

“Gimme now!”

He shrugged, “That works too.” He pulled out the
second spoon and handed it to her and she dug in
before returning to her previous occupation of
flipping channels.

Spike watched her as she ate ice cream and flipped
channels. She was so beautiful and he thanked the
forces that had turned him this way. He thanked his
lucky star that had let him claim this gorgeous
creature. He felt a feeling of possessiveness swell up
inside of him as he watched her eat the ice cream and
sit on his couch, watching TV.

Suddenly his focus was drawn away from her when
he became aware of exactly what she had
flipped to.

“Oooooh, Spikey’s watchin’ porno.”

She had stumbled across one of the late-night soft
porn channels. On the screen there was a woman
who was rocking with a man who was taking her
from behind while he fingered her clit. Sounds of
harsh breathing and moaning filled the room.

Spike reached for the remote but she held it out of
his reach, giggling. He reached again, and she held it
out of his reach. This continued, they wrestled for a
few minutes until he finally was able to wrest the
remote from her grasp.

He looked down, in their efforts she had ended up
pinned beneath him. Her face was flushed and her
eyes were glazed over. On the screen a woman
moaned loudly as the man ate her out. From beneath
him he could smell the slayer’s arousal and his cock
was hard as a rock, there was nothing he wanted
more than to act out the desires that were plaguing
both of them.

He turned off the TV. He would have restraint. When
he made her his mate it would be a night to
remember, not some quickie that she would be too
drunk to remember.

He stood up and picked her up, carrying her into the
bedroom. She squealed slightly but really didn’t
protest. He carried her over to the bed and put her
down, giving her a stern look. “Only sleeping
tonight, missy.” He reached down and helped her
remove her boots and jacket before removing his
own boots and belt and turning out the light.

As he settled himself into bed she was already fast
asleep, passed out from exhaustion and the alcohol
she had consumed. He smiled gently down at her and
wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back
against him. He listened to her gentle breathing for a
while, enjoying the closeness before drifting off to
sleep. They would need their rest in the coming day.

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