Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but Joss said we can play in his little world, so I am. No profit for me, though. "That Kind of Woman" is Stevie Nicks. Credit for that goes to her.

Rating: NC-17 (I tried to get Spike to keep his clothes on. He refused. Oh well.)

Spoilers: Technically this is season 2, but the timeline's all wonky, so I'm not sure how much of it is really spoilery. Still, I suppose you've all seen at least the first two seasons, so we should be good.

Author's Note: Thanks again to Niamh for sending this little plot bunny after me, albeit inadvertently. I know the summary kinda sucks, but I didn't want to give much away. Read it, and it'll make sense.

Also, this fic has some dark spots in it. Spike is very much still the Big Bad. So if you like your Spike well on the path to redemption, parts of this fic will not be your cuppa. But if you like Spike acting, well, like a vampire, then read on.


*** *** ***

Temptation falls in your path
No hesitation why you ask
You have another waiting at home
And yes she matters to you
Kind of woman that'll haunt you

You didn't mean to meet her you cry
Oh but the sun goes down every night
She came to you when you were alone
And yes she matters to you
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
She matters to you

I promised myself a long time ago
It would be difficult to let you go
If not at least within
The touch of my fingers
It was close to being
In heaven
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
To being in heaven
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
Is to be...in heaven
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
I know I know



*** *** ***

If Spike hadn't hated the Slayer after she'd managed to best him on the night of the Feast of St. Vigeous, then he surely hated her now. He could hear Drusilla moaning in pleasure, and it wasn't for him. She had her precious "Daddy" now, and Spike felt like nothing more than a discarded plaything.

For a century, he had existed outside the shadow of Angelus. Dru had been his only, no overbearing sire trying to reclaim his childe. But the careless act of one Slayer had ruined it for him. She had to go and make the brooding wanker happy. Bloody bitch.

As Drusilla's moans turned into screams, Spike decided he'd had enough. He stormed out of the mansion in search of something to kill. Maybe he'd get lucky and find the Slayer. If he came back with her head on a stick, Dru would have to accept him for the monster he was and give up the ponce who'd rather love a Slayer than kill her.

Spike had never quite understood what Angel had seen in that Slayer anyway. She was certainly no great beauty. Not ugly, but just…plain. She didn't have much of a spark to her either. Not like that Slayer he'd fought in New York. Now that Slayer he could understand wanting a good tumble with. But the Slayer here in Sunnydale? Good fighter sure, but not worth becoming some brooding, whipped git over.

Spike made his way towards that club all the young people of the Hellmouth seemed so fond of. He tried to remember the name. Oh right, the Bronze. That was it. Damn silly name for a club if you asked him. The Bronze what? Still, there was always some intoxicated girl stumbling around just waiting to be his dinner. A bit like shooting fish in a barrel, but right now he just wanted a kill to take the edge off.

It wasn't long until Spike was leading his dinner for the evening into the back alley. The first flash of his demon face made her scream, and Spike covered her mouth even as he relished the sound. Fear made the blood taste so much sweeter.

Spike had just sunk his fangs into the girl's neck when he felt a new presence in the alley. He stopped drinking, closing the girl's nose to stop her whimpers so he could hear better.

"You might want to consider dropping the girl. I mean, I'm going to dust you either way, but I may make it a little less painful if you let her go now."

Spike did release the girl, although not because he'd been told to. He wanted to see the chit who was dumb enough to threaten him. When he turned and saw a small blonde girl who couldn't be much more than sixteen glaring at him, her arms crossed in front of her, he almost laughed. Probably would have if she hadn't just caused his meal to get away. "Y'know, pet, it's not polite to interrupt a bloke when he's having dinner. Unless of course, you're offering another entrée." He looked her up and down, then ran his tongue over his teeth suggestively.

"The only thing I'm offering you is an end to your worthless existence."

Spike wondered who exactly this girl thought she was. Did she not get the memo that this town already had a Slayer and wasn't in need of a little girl who dusted vamps for fun? "I have a feeling that isn't going to happen. See, killing girls who wander into dark alleys—it's what I do."

"Yeah, and dusting evil vampires—it's what I do. And you, William the Bloody, are a vampire I've wanted to kill for a long time."

His smirk faltered a little at that. She knew who he was? "Didn't know we were acquainted," he replied.

"We're not." The girl raised a crossbow, and Spike's eyes widened. How had he missed she was carrying that? Probably because you were too busy checking her out, a little voice in the back of his mind supplied. Yeah, that was why.

She fired the weapon, the bolt narrowly missing his heart. Spike pulled it out of his chest and snapped it in two, letting the pieces clatter to the dirty ground. "See, now you've gone and made me mad."

Her fear was almost imperceptible as she reloaded the crossbow, but Spike knew it was there. He advanced on her with inhuman speed, throwing the weapon from her hands and pinning against her against a wall. "Looks like you were offering me something to eat after all."

The girl spit in his face.

Spike snarled, rearing back to rip out her throat. Suddenly, he was on his back, an angry looking Slayer standing above him. Her stake was poised to strike, but Spike jumped up, kicking his foot out as he did and knocking the Slayer to the ground. "Another time, ducks. I've got other things to do."

Despite his earlier desire to bring the dead Slayer home to Dru, the other girl had intrigued him too much. He wanted to see if he could dig up who she was. Killing the Slayer could wait for another time. With a swirl of leather, he was gone.

*** *** ***

Okay, thoughts on that one… Are you interested in reading more? Please leave a review and let me know if I've got an audience for this one…

"What the hell did you do that for?"

The Slayer blinked as she stood, brushing off her clothes. She'd never had someone get angry with her for saving their life before. "That man was going to kill you. I rescued you."

"For your information, I didn't need rescuing. I was handling it just fine."

"He had you pinned against a wall!"

"Yeah, well, that was all part of my plan to…lure him into a false sense of security!"

"From where I was standing, it didn't look so false."

"Then maybe you should stand somewhere else." The blonde girl stormed over to where her crossbow lay and picked it up before starting out the alley. She stopped, sighing heavily when she felt a hand on her arm. "You've already ruined my night enough. So why don't you just piss off now, and leave me alone."

"Where are you going to go? That guy—he's really not someone you want to be chasing after."

The blonde turned and narrowed her eyes on the Slayer. "I've been chasing William the Bloody in one way or another for almost my entire life. And I don't need you to tell me what I want."

"Look, I don't know who you are, but…"

"Yeah, well, I know who you are. You're the Slayer. Miss Chosen Vamp Fodder herself. And hey, that's great for you, but I don't need a sacred calling to tell me vampires are evil and need to be made dusty. So if you'll excuse me…"

"No! Wait. Don't run off, all right? You…how do you know about Slayers?"

"I know a lot of things. But right now, I have to go. You're making me waste valuable time that I could be spending hunting my prey."

The Slayer shivered at the tone in the girl's voice. She'd never imagined anyone thinking of Spike as prey before—especially someone who Spike himself would so clearly consider to be the actual prey. "If you want to kill Spike, that's fine by me. But chasing after him right now isn't going to get you very far." She stepped closer to the girl again, holding out her hand. "I'm Nancy."

The girl eyed the hand outstretched in front of her warily for a moment. With a resigned sigh, she took it. "Buffy."

Nancy's eyes widened slightly. "Buffy? Really?"

Buffy snatched her hand away. "Hey, I didn't say anything about Nancy."

"I'm sorry, you just…don't seem like a Buffy. I mean, you're all 'grr' and with the crossbow…"

"Yeah, well, my mother gave me this name," Buffy snapped. She started to walk off when Nancy ran in front of her, blocking her way.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. I was just surprised. It's not really a name you hear outside of Valley Girl movies."

"Unless, you know, you're me and you hear it on a daily basis."

"Um, good point." Nancy frowned. "But really, none of this matters. I need to know who you are and what you're doing here."

"And why is this exactly?" Buffy asked, clearly exasperated. The damn Slayer had already made her miss her chance at killing that monster and now she was playing twenty questions?

"Because I'm the Slayer, and this is my town. So again, I need to know who you are and what you're doing here."

"Your town? Take a look around. It's their town. You've just been given temporary residency until one of them gets lucky and the next Slayer is called."

Nancy pulled back, her eyes going hard. "This is my town, and I need to know who you are and what you're doing here," she repeated for a third time.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And where exactly have you been for the past few minutes? I'm Buffy. I'm here to kill William the Bloody. Do I need to write it down for you?"

Nancy put her hands on her hips. "You know that doesn't really tell me anything."

"Good, 'cause nothing else is any of your business."

"Look, Buffy, I…"

"Nancy! You're all right."

Buffy glanced at the two people who had just walked out of the club's back entrance. They had to be the two most unfortunate fashion victims she had ever seen. Not that her outfits were exactly Vogue-worthy, but at least she knew the evils of Hawaiian prints and fuzzy sweaters.

"You'd been gone for a while, and we were worried," said fuzzy sweater girl. "Well, Xander was worried. Not…not that I never worry about you, but I figured you were just out here slaying those baddies." She caught sight of Buffy for the first time, and her eyes widened. "Er…boys! Slaying those boys. But…uh…not in a killing sort of way."

Buffy rolled her eyes. Could this possibly get any more pathetic?

"It's okay, Willow," Nancy said. "She knows about Slayers."

"How does she know about Slayers?" the boy in the Hawaiian shirt asked. "She's not another Slayer, is she? Did you die again, Nan?"

"No, I didn't die. She's…"

Before Nancy could finish, Buffy asked the boy skeptically, "How do you know about Slayers?"

"We're Nancy's friends," he replied, his chest slightly puffed out. "We help her."

"Is that's what's up with that shirt? You wear bright colors to attract vampires for Nancy over there?" Buffy jerked her thumb towards the Slayer.

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but Nancy stepped in. "Xander and Willow are students at the local high school. They found out about my Calling, and they help me."

"You get help from high school students?" Buffy asked in disbelief. "I'm sure all the vampires out there are deeply afraid."

"You know, Buffy…"

Before Nancy could finish her sentence, Xander interjected with, "Her name is Buffy?"

Buffy threw up her hands. "Oh, this is it. Seeing as my night has been effectively ruined by the Slayer and her vamp bait, I'm going to find someplace that's else."

"I'm not vamp bait!" Xander exclaimed. "For your information, I can help with the killing. And…and the research. And I can whittle stakes!"

"Oh aren't you just a regular Renaissance man." Buffy had started off when Nancy cut her off again.

"I can't let you leave."

"You can't exactly prevent me from leaving."

Nancy narrowed her eyes. "I can."

"What exactly is your problem? I came to this town to take care of a vamp that, rumor has it, is giving you a bit of trouble, Slayer. So how about you just get out of my way and let me do what I came here to do?"

"I can't let you wander the streets of Sunnydale in search of Spike!"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you're obviously a loose cannon, and I can't deal with one of those right now."

"A loose… I've been doing this my entire life. I know what I'm doing."

"Um, if the scene I walked in on earlier is any indication, no, you don't."

"I told you I had that under control."

Nancy held up her hands. "Fine. You had it all under control. You were going to distract Spike by letting him rip your throat out. I got it. But why don't you just accept some help with killing him, all right? Do you have a place to stay?"

"Sure I do." Buffy crossed her arms in front of her, though Nancy could still tell that her confidence was slipping for the first time that evening. "I just…haven't figured out where it is yet."

"Come stay with me. At least for the night. Clean place to sleep and a warm meal. What do you say?"

Buffy knew what the Slayer was doing. She was trying to lure her in so she could figure out more about her. The thing that Buffy hated about it though, was that it was working. The promise of a place to sleep and food to eat was just more than Buffy could turn down. "Okay. But this is very very temporary. I'm killing William the Bloody and checking out of Sunnydale tomorrow night." The sound of Xander's sudden laughter made Buffy turn around sharply. "Something funny over there, Don Ho?"

"It's just, well, you act like killing Spike is going to be a piece of cake. Nancy's been trying for months, and she can't kill him." Missing the flash of shame in the Slayer's eyes, Xander continued. "You're not going to be able to just hunt him down and kill him in one night."

"Only takes one stake to kill a vamp," Buffy retorted.

"How about we just call this a night now," Nancy said, seeing the murderous glare Buffy was bestowing on Xander. "Willow, Xander, can you two get home okay?"

"Oh, I'm sure the Big Kahuna has a whole bag of personally-whittled stakes with him. They'll be fine," Buffy said.

Xander opened his mouth to speak, but Willow cut him off. "We'll be fine, Nancy. Call me tomorrow?"

"Of course. Night guys."

Nancy's friends said their good-byes and headed back towards the club as Buffy and Nancy walked together out of the alley.

*** *** ***

Spike stepped over the crumpled body at his feet. He'd hoped a kill would satisfy him, but his run in with that girl in the alley behind the Bronze had left him even more agitated than when he'd set out that night. And now he was left with nowhere to go but back to the mansion that Angelus had managed to turn into a love nest for himself and Drusilla…

Spike lit a cigarette as he walked slowly back towards Crawford Street. The night was still relatively young, and he was sure there was some kind of mayhem he could get into in ol' Sunny D, but his heart just wasn't in it. Leave it to Angelus to ruin a perfectly good Hellmouth for him…

And now that girl… He was sure his night would've improved greatly if he could've sunk his fangs into her. Or something else for that matter… Just thinking about what it had felt like to have her pressed between his body and the wall made his cock swell in his jeans. And her knowledge of who he was only intrigued him more…

Yet the Slayer had ruined his fun yet again. He wished he could just kill the bloody little bitch and get it over with. He'd killed Slayers in the past. But this one was proving to be difficult. He'd come close, but his soulful grandsire had always been there to pull the chit out of the fire. And now that Angelus was back to his old self, well, he seemed to think the proper way to kill a Slayer was to send her flowers and draw her little pictures while she slept. Pillock.

Spike thought back over the last three Slayers he had fought before this one. The first had been relatively easy, all things considered. One big fight, and he'd taken down a Slayer within the first two decades of his vampiric existence. Elevated him to the status of Master at an age when most of his kind were practically still fledglings.

Of course, most of the demon population called that a fluke. Said he'd just managed to get lucky, fight a Slayer when she was already down. But Spike had shut them up when he'd become the only vampire in history to kill two Slayers.

Not that he'd had any intention of stopping there. Too many other vamps had killed themselves one Slayer. Usually, they tended not to push their luck past that, figuring doing in one Slayer was enough to ascertain bragging rights. But Spike wanted more. Another vampire might get two as well, and Spike was in no mood to share the title "Slayer of Slayers."

It was his desire to secure that distinction for himself alone that had led him to Los Angeles not too long ago. He'd heard of a Slayer there who was reported to be the longest lived Slayer in history. A Slayer in her twenties, as this one was, was practically unheard of.

But age hadn't made her any weaker. If anything, the number of battles she'd survived had made her stronger than almost anyone Spike had ever had the pleasure of facing. He'd limped away from more fights with her than he cared to admit.

At the time, he'd wanted to blame all the mess in LA on circumstances, on nothing being as it should've been. But now after this Slayer kept getting the better of him, he was starting to worry that he'd somehow lost his edge. Or maybe the first couple of Slayers had just been a fluke…

Realizing he'd reached the mansion, Spike threw his cigarette to the ground and snubbed it out under his boot. With his vampiric hearing, he could catch the sounds Angelus and Drusilla were making already, and as soon as he opened the door, he was assaulted by their scents. It only served to make the image in front of him now of Dru's arms chained to the wall, her legs wrapped around her sire's waist as he took her, all the more vivid—all the more revolting.

"Have a good hunt, Willie?" Angelus asked, not even bothering to stop his thrusting.

"Sod off," Spike snarled, fighting the urge to go fight for what was his. But Drusilla would never forgive him if he hurt her "Daddy," and he knew it. He'd seen now how little he meant to the woman he'd loved and taken care of for over a century.

Angelus chuckled, then gave a sharp twist of his hips to make Drusilla squeal. "Doesn't look like I'm the one who has to do that now, boy."

Drusilla turned to Spike then, her eyes clouded over and unfocused. "Does Mummy's sweet William want to play, too?"

"Don't worry about him, Dru. He's not any fun anyway." Angelus features shifted, and he sank his fangs into Dru's ivory neck. All thoughts of her childe fled from her mind as she screamed in pleasure.

With a snarl, Spike stormed off, going upstairs to sleep the day away alone.

*** *** ***

Please review. I got a lot of hits on the last chapter, but a lot less reviews. This makes me think that people read the first chapter and weren't interested in the rest. Am I right here?

And bonus points if anyone can remember what episode Nancy appeared in. lol

Buffy looked up at the two story house that the Slayer had indicated was hers. "Well, this is quaint. Looks all…homey."

"I live here with my Watcher," Nancy said, going up on the front porch with Buffy close behind. "He also works in the library of the local high school. That's how I met Willow and Xander."

Buffy frowned. "What is a Watcher doing playing high school librarian?"

"The opening of the Hellmouth is there. This way, he can keep an eye on it," Nancy said as she fished her keys out of her pocket.

"Ah. How convenient."

"Giles!" Nancy called as soon as they walked into the house. "Giles, are you here?"

A middle-aged man walked into the foyer, frowning when he saw Buffy beside Nancy. "Hello, Nancy. You've brought a guest?"

"Sort of. I told her she could stay with us tonight. Her name is Buffy, and…"

"Buffy? Buffy Summers?"

When her Watcher's glasses came off as he said the girl's name, Nancy knew that things were more serious than she'd thought. "I didn't ask her last name…" Nancy said.

"Yeah, well, I'm right here, so I can tell you that's who I am."

Giles replaced his glasses and cleared his throat. "The Council has been looking for you. Ever since…"

"Howard's death, I know. But I had things to do, and I didn't much feel like being shuffled off to Merry Ol' England." Buffy gave Giles a warning glare. "And don't even bother calling Travers, because I'll be out of here by tomorrow evening anyway."

"I don't understand," Giles replied with a frown. "You've been missing for over a year, now you show up in the home of the active Slayer and say you'll be gone tomorrow? The Council…"

"I don't care about the Council," Buffy snapped. "I'm here for William the Bloody."

Giles's glasses came off again. "Spike? You've come to Sunnydale to… Miss Summers, this is, well, frankly it's insanity. For whatever your family history may be, you yourself are not a Slayer. To go up against a master vampire that strong would be nothing short of suicide for you."

Buffy stood as tall as she could. "I faced him tonight."

"Yeah, and he would've killed you if I hadn't intervened," Nancy said with a snort.

Buffy turned, her hand on the door. "It was a mistake coming here. I should be searching for him right now."

Giles moved quickly, grabbing Buffy's hand and taking it away from the door. "It would be in your best interest, Miss Summers, to stay here, at least for the evening. You look as if you could use some rest. And if you do not want me to contact Quentin Travers, then I will respect your wishes. But do stay here. Would you like something to eat?"

Buffy eyed him warily. Why did people keep using food to convince her to stay? She admitted to herself reluctantly that it was probably those bones of hers that were so clearly protruding. She didn't spend a lot of time in front of a mirror, but she knew all too well that she was sporting that starving street orphan look. She backed away from the door. "I'm only agreeing to stay so I can gather my strength to fight the vampire tomorrow night," she said.

"Yes, of course," Giles replied, guiding her towards the kitchen. "Nancy, I believe there's an air mattress in the closet in my study. Would you please set it up for our guest? And perhaps take her things upstairs?"

"Of course, Giles," Nancy replied. She reached for Buffy's bag, and the blonde girl hesitated for a moment before handing it over.

Buffy followed Giles, taking a seat at the island in the kitchen once they got there. "I'm afraid we don't have much at the moment," Giles said. "I've been needing to go to the store. Would soup and a sandwich be sufficient?"

"It'll be fine," Buffy said. Compared to what she had been eating, it sounded like manna from Heaven…

"So what brings you to Sunnydale?" Giles asked as he began preparing her meal, trying to keep his tone conversational.

"Killing William the Bloody," Buffy answered simply.

"I had gathered that much. May I inquire as to why?"

"He murdered my mother."

Giles blinked. "I thought the Council never discerned what vampire had been the one to kill your mother."

"They didn't," Buffy replied. "I did."

"And you're certain it was Spike?"

"Yes. Especially after I saw him tonight. He was the one who was with my mother before she died. She left with him, and she never came home."

"She…left with him?" Giles asked with a frown. "Where did she leave from?"

"Our apartment," Buffy said. "He came when she was reading me a story before bedtime. They…they talked, and then she said she had to leave. She told me she'd be back soon to finish the story, and to stay with Howard until then. But she never came home."

Giles noted the lack of emotion Buffy tried to convey as she spoke, as if she were simply reciting facts, not remembering the last time she'd ever seen her mother. But he could see the pain in her eyes, pain that ran too deep for her to ever make no longer a part of her. "The Council's report of your mother's death never spoke of her willingly accompanying a vampire. It merely stated that she was found with the mark of a vampire on her neck."

"I was four years old," Buffy said. "I don't know what was going on. All I know is that William the Bloody was with my mother that night, and the word on the street is he's the one that did her in. He is the Slayer of Slayers after all."

"Well, yes, that he is. Two documented cases on the Council books. Xuang Li in 1900 and Nikki Wood in 1977."

"Add Joyce Summers in 1985 to that list," Buffy said. "I don't know why he was there that night, or why she went with him, but I do know he killed her. He'd been trying to months, and I guess he somehow tricked her into giving him his chance. All my sources have given me the same information. He is the thing that murdered my mother, and I will get my revenge."

"Going toe to toe with a vampire is no simple thing, Buffy. You didn't inherit your mother's powers," Giles told her.

"No, but I can still fight. I've been training for this for years. And I've killed many vampires, Giles. I know how to do it," Buffy insisted, her head raised high.

"Be that as it may, Spike is very powerful. He has bested more than one Slayer. The odds are more than good that should you face him, he will kill you."

"Then my last act will be to plunge my stake into his cold, dead heart," Buffy said, her eyes dark with an angry determination that made Giles shudder involuntarily.

"Would you at least consider going about this differently? I can understand your need to avenge your mother, but I sincerely doubt that she would've wished for you to get yourself killed like you most likely will should you rush headlong into a battle with Spike. Can you accept help from Nancy?" Giles watched as Buffy seemed to ponder what he'd said. Honestly, he'd just as soon the girl return to the safety of the Council. Perhaps they could finally track down her wayward father. But he recognized the look in her eyes and knew that she would not rest until the vampire that had taken her mother from her was dust—or she was in the ground herself. Perhaps he could convince her to make a decision that would help her stay alive. He certainly hoped so. If for nothing else, then for Joyce…

"I'm not going to deal with any procrastination," Buffy informed Giles. "If I accept Nancy's help, then she better help me now. I know she's got other problems, like that bloodsucking boyfriend of hers I've heard about, but I'm in no mood to wait for her to deal with them. I want Spike to pay for what he did. I won't be able to rest until it's done."

Giles regarded the dark circles under Buffy's eyes, and wondered if that last statement was a literal one. How long had this child suffered, haunted by what had happened to her mother? "He will, Buffy. Spike has already done enough evil in this world, and if what you say about him being Joyce's murderer is true, well… I will do everything in my power to help you, Buffy. But it is important to me that you stay as safe as possible."

Buffy looked at Giles askance for a moment. "You…you knew my mother, didn't you? As more than just another page in the Watcher's Diaries."

"Yes. Briefly, before her death." Before Buffy could ask any more questions, Giles set her dinner in front of her. "Would you like something to drink? Milk, perhaps?"

Buffy nodded. "Please."

Giles retrieved the carton from the fridge and began to pour a glass for the small young woman in his kitchen. He watched as she virtually attacked her food, manners being forgotten in the face of the first real meal she'd had in weeks. His heart clenched as he thought of what Joyce would feel if she could see her little girl now, and he hoped he could convince Buffy to let him make things a little easier for her…

*** *** ***

Buffy lay awake on the air mattress the Slayer had placed on the floor of her bedroom. She could hear Nancy snoring lightly, and the sound was just enough to distract her too much to allow her to fall asleep.

Not that she was sure she'd be able to sleep anyway with the freight train of thoughts roaring through her mind…

She had failed. No matter what she'd tried to convince the Slayer and her companions of, Buffy had faced the monster who had murdered her mother and she'd failed. The creature had bested her with ease, and if Nancy hadn't arrived when she had, Buffy knew she'd already be dead.

In her mind, she played the moment that her crossbow bolt had lodged itself centimeters away from his heart over and over again. Such a slip was inexcusable. Had she merely forced herself to gain total focus on the moment, to concentrate the way she should have, she would've hit her mark, and her mother would already be avenged. She would be able to rest easy now, knowing she had done what needed to be done.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," Buffy whispered, almost silently, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

*** *** ***

Rupert Giles stared into his almost-empty glass of brandy, his mind already made up to call in sick to work the next morning. That rat-faced principal he was forced to work with could shove it up his arse if he managed to unclench enough first. Rupert had more important things to worry about than his sham job of high school librarian.

Joyce's daughter was there, sleeping in his house. It brought back memories he didn't realize how unprepared he was to deal with. The girl looked so much like her mother it made him ache. And though they were a different color, Rupert could swear those had been Joyce's eyes staring up at him.

He had been quietly searching for the girl ever since he'd heard that Harold Rimes had died and that Buffy had gone missing. Truth be told, he had wanted to become her guardian after he mother's death, though the Council had decreed that she should stay with Joyce's Watcher, Harold, as opposed to being handed over to a man she had not truly known.

Even if that man had held foolish hopes of someday becoming the girl's father…

Rupert had wished even more after Harold's death that Joyce had let him become a part of Buffy's life instead of keeping them separated due to her fear of Buffy becoming "attached" to someone who may not be a permanent part of her life. Even when he'd assured Joyce that he had no intention of leaving, she'd cited that all the books said that you shouldn't introduce your child to your post-divorce significant other too soon.

It had always amazed Rupert how someone with a life as unconventional as Joyce's had been would be concerned with what could be found in some parenting how-to guide.

But Joyce had always tried so hard to be normal for her daughter. Tried so hard to give Buffy a life that she could never really have. It was what had driven her to marry that oaf Hank Summers when she'd discovered she was pregnant, even when Giles was certain Joyce knew in her heart that Hank would never make her happy—or stick around when things got too difficult for that matter.

And now Buffy's life was anything but textbook normal. She'd obviously been living on the streets for quite some time, hunting down a vampire Giles knew she'd never be able to face and live to tell the tale. She was so small, so frail. Maybe if he'd been able to raise her, given her a father's love and care, she wouldn't be so lost now.

He was sure Harold had tried. Harold Rimes had been a good man, one who had cared deeply for his charge and her child. But he was also a firm believer in the famed "British stiff upper lip," and had most likely taught Buffy to hold her anguish over her mother's death deep inside. Furthermore, the elderly man's waning health had to have been a strain on the young girl. The Council's report had briefly mentioned that Buffy had discovered Harold's body, and Rupert hated to think of that trauma being piled on top of the burden the girl already carried.

He wanted to go to her now, to comfort her, but he didn't know how. He was hurting himself, the recent loss of Jenny Calendar both forming new wounds on his heart as well as reopening old ones. He was beginning to wonder if he was cursed, if every woman he loved was doomed to die so tragically.

Rupert drank the last of the brandy in his glass before pouring himself another.

*** *** ***

No, not Nancy from "Beneath You." I actually forgot that woman's name was even Nancy… I went back further than that…someone who actually had a tie to fighting vampires, even if she wasn't around very long… So congrats to the two or three of you who correctly guessed Nancy from "The Wish."

Buffy frowned as she came downstairs to find Nancy's friends gathered in the living room. "Shouldn't you people like, be in school or something?" she asked.

"It's four o'clock in the afternoon," Xander replied, his mouth full of twinkie.

Buffy just grunted a little in response. She'd long since put herself on the same schedule as a vampire. Sleep during the day…hunt at night.

"Do you need anything?" Nancy asked, standing up. "Giles just got back from the store, so there's food in there."

"You can sit back down," Buffy said. "I think I can remember where the kitchen is." Buffy walked out of the living room, ignoring the comments she heard about her behavior coming from the Slayer and her lackeys.

"Buffy, you're awake!" Giles said as he saw her come in.

"Yeah. I'm a late sleeper, what with the staying up all night to vanquish the undead and all…"

"No, that's fine. Nancy often sleeps late as well for the same reason." Giles cleared his throat. "I was just unpacking the groceries. If you're hungry, there's more food than there was last night."

Buffy looked at the brown paper bags filling the kitchen. "I'd say you went shopping… Planning on feeding an army, Giles?"

He shifted a little. "I didn't know what you like."

Buffy gave him what could've been the beginnings of a smile. "Well, I'm sure I can find something in all of this." She went to a bag, her eyes brightening slightly as she saw what was in it. "Ooh…frozen pizza."

Giles's mouth turned up in a wry smile as he turned on the oven. "Better put in a couple of them. Those children out there eat everything in sight."

Buffy pulled out two boxes. "Noted." She opened the first box, pulling the pizza out of its plastic bag before moving to the next one. "You loved her, didn't you?" she asked suddenly.

The question startled Giles, but he didn't have to ask who she meant. Joyce… "Yes. I did. I wanted to marry her, but she wasn't ready."

"I didn't…I didn't know she was seeing anyone," Buffy said softly, staring down at the frozen pizza.

"She didn't want you to get attached to me in case things didn't work out," Giles explained. "And I was in England most of the time, so we only got to see each other rarely."

"Did she…did she ever talk about me?"

"Always. You were the center of her world, Buffy. She wanted nothing more than your happiness."

The silence that followed was broken by the ding of the oven, letting them know that it was heated. Buffy put the pizzas in. "Timer?"

"There's one on the microwave," Giles replied.

Buffy nodded, setting the timer for the pizzas. "Want help with the groceries?" she asked.

"No, I can handle it. I have a system in the pantry, and I don't much care for explaining it right now."

Buffy smirked. "Yeah, now you sound like a Watcher."

Giles gave her a look, but said nothing in response to that. He began to unload another bag, but stopped, cereal box in hand. "I have a picture of you she gave me. In my wallet."

Buffy looked towards him sharply. "You do?"

"Yes. It was your four year old pre-school picture. I knew…I know you aren't my daughter, but I'd wished you would be. In retrospect, I suppose it was a bit of a pipe dream, but I thought we'd all be together someday. That you, Joyce, and I could be a family."

Buffy pushed down the lump that formed in her throat. She didn't have time for emotions, not when she was this close to avenging her mother. "The Slayer doesn't get to have a family."

"No, I guess she doesn't." Giles cleared his throat. "But I was young then. I didn't understand things the way I do now."

Buffy turned, staring at the microwave as the numbers counted down.

*** *** ***

Buffy forced herself to eat despite the fact that her appetite seemed to have waned following her conversation with Giles. If she was going to face Spike that night, she would need all the energy she could get.

The Slayer and her friends seemed to be perfectly content, however. They were seated on the end of the table opposite from Buffy, engaged in a conversation that they'd made no attempt to include the blonde in. Not that she really cared. She certainly didn't have a place in her life for friends, and she thought it was crazy that the Slayer thought otherwise about her own life. Didn't she know that all Slayers did was wait around to die?

"It'll be dark soon," Buffy said, tiring of the inane chatter at the other end of the table. "Shouldn't we be thinking about getting ready to hunt?"

"I don't 'hunt,'" Nancy replied, looking down the table towards Buffy. "I patrol."

"Whatever, Sergeant Slayer. When are we going to patrol?"

"We don't have to rush out as soon as the sun goes down, Buffy," Nancy said. "Vampires usually don't."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please. For vamps, the sunset means dinner bell. Didn't they teach you anything in Slayer school?"

"Hey, Nancy's a good Slayer," Xander snapped. "She knows how to do her job."

"A Slayer's job is to get herself killed. It's all she's good for," Buffy said.

"Hey! Don't talk about Nancy that way!" Xander yelled. "She's a good Slayer. She knows how to stay alive."

"Oh yeah?" Buffy replied. "Why don't you ask her? You know, don't you Nancy? You know you have an expiration date and the clock's just ticking away. Waiting until some demon finally gives you the death you were born for."

"Don't talk to her like that!" Xander jumped up, pointing at Buffy. "Just because Spike took a bite out of your mother doesn't mean Nancy's going to end up the same way."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. So Nancy had filled her friends in on who Buffy was and why she was there… "Don't you ever speak about my mother," Buffy said, her tone almost a growl. "She was a better Slayer than Nancy could even dream of being."

Xander opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Nancy stood up, slamming her hands down on the table. "Stop it! Both of you. This bickering won't do anyone any good."

Xander sat down, looking slightly sheepish. "Sorry, Nan. I was just trying to…"

"I know. And I do appreciate it. Really."

Buffy got up, her anger far from gone. "I'm going to get weapons, and then I'm heading out to find Spike. If you want to quit playing social butterfly and actually act like a Slayer, you can come to."

Nancy sucked in a deep breath. "I can do my job, Buffy. I've been doing it from two years."

"Color me not impressed," Buffy replied, walking out of the room before Nancy or one of her friends could say anything else. She had more important things to do than deal with them.

Buffy opened her one bag, everything she had to her name inside. She pulled out her crossbow, running her hand over it. It was one of the two things she still had of her mother's, the other being the cross that hung around her neck.

She thought it would be a fitting weapon to kill Spike with. Would give her mother that final bit of justice.

"Buffy?"

Buffy grimaced at the sound of Nancy's friend's voice. She turned, the crossbow still in her hand. "What? Willow, right?"

"Yeah. And, um, could you maybe point that someplace else?" Willow asked. "Not that I think you're going to shoot me or anything, they just make me nervous."

Buffy lowered the crossbow, though her dark expression remained firmly in place. "Come to add to what Xander had to say? Defend the almighty Nancy the Vampire Slayer?"

Willow shook her head. "No. I mean, Nancy and Xander are both my friends, but what he said—about your mom and Spike—that was wrong. He just has this problem where every time he opens his mouth, his foot automatically goes in it. We've tried to find something for it, pills—maybe a cream—but so far it's been a no-go."

Buffy couldn't help the tiniest grin from forming. "I've heard it's a side effect of having your head up your ass. Less space for the foot to travel or something."

Willow smirked. "Possibly." She sobered, starting again. "See, the thing with Xander—he's got feelings for Nancy. They dated a little when she first came to Sunnydale, but, well, she had the big yen for Angel, and that pretty much prevented anything from going very far."

"So she broke his heart and he's still hanging around?" Buffy made a sound of disbelief. "Guy must be quite the glutton for punishment."

"He thinks she'll 'come to her senses' and get back together with him," Willow said. "He sure it'll happen any day now that Angel's back to being Angelus."

"But it's not going to, is it?"

"No, I don't think it is. Nancy's still reeling from the fact that her first love went all evil and tried to kill her."

"That's what happens when you fall for a vampire," Buffy said. "I heard that this 'Angel' got a soul shoved in him by gypsies or something, but that really didn't change anything. An animal with a soul is still an animal. Nothing can change what a vampire is, nothing can make them love or even care. They're demons at the core and they always will be."

Willow shifted, and Buffy could tell the conversation had become uncomfortable for her. There was something in her expression that told Buffy that she agreed some with what she had to say, at least a little bit, but at the same time, accepting and admitting that would make her feel as if she was betraying her friend. "He was different with a soul. He helped us, and he loved Nancy. But now…"

"Now he's just showing his true colors," Buffy said, her grip on her crossbow tightening. "I'll dust him if I get a chance, too. I don't care what Nancy has to say about it."

Willow's gaze turned down slightly. "Nancy knows it needs to be done. Our only hope of re-ensouling him is gone."

Buffy's eyebrow quirked. "How exactly were you going to do that?"

"Ms. Calendar, the computer science teacher at Sunnydale High, was a member of the gypsy clan that cursed Angelus in the first place. She was working on how to translate the spell when Angelus…"

"Killed her," Buffy finished for her.

Willow nodded. "Snapped her neck and left her in Giles's bed to find. It was awful."

"Why did he leave her there?" Buffy asked, though as soon as the question was out of her mouth she realized the answer. "She and Giles were…"

"Yeah. I think he was in love with her."

Despite her attempts to keep her emotions in check, Buffy's heart went out to Giles. He'd lost two women that he loved, both to vampires. She knew he had to be hurting in a way very similar to the way she was. In that moment, it became more for her than just a vengeance quest for her mother. It was also for the man that could have been her father. She'd put an end to both Spike and Angelus, and maybe Giles could know a little peace, too.

When Buffy said nothing in return, Willow spoke again. "I didn't really mean to get into all of this, I just… I wanted to tell you that while Nancy is my friend, I'd…I'd like you to be, too. You seem…really lonely."

"I appreciate the offer, but friends aren't something I want or need. I mean, you seem like a nice enough girl and all, but I'm on a mission here, and I don't really have time for chatting about boys while we paint each other's nails."

"You can't be alone all the time," Willow said. "Everyone needs someone."

"I have a mission," Buffy replied. "It's enough."

"But what happens when you kill Spike? What then?"

Buffy felt a small amount of gratitude towards Willow for not doubting her ability to kill Spike. Nice to know someone didn't think she was incompetent… "I don't know," she replied honestly. She turned around, grabbing a stake from her bag and putting it in the side pocket of her cargo pants. "But right now, I have to go hunting." She walked past Willow and out the door, not slowing down long enough for anyone to stop her.

*** *** ***

"The moon is calling, my sweet. It will wake soon, and so shall you."

Spike kept his eyes shut as he wondered when exactly Drusilla waking him had become more of an annoyance than a pleasure. Probably when she started doing it with his scent all over her, he thought grimly.

"Let him sleep the night away if that's what he wants. He's never any use on a hunt away."

The sound of his grandsire's voice grated, but Spike refused to let himself be goaded. It was too early in the evening to deal with all of that. He needed to feed first.

Drusilla whimpered. "He never wants to play with Mummy anymore. He just waits for the Sunshine to come and take him away…"

Angelus laughed loudly at that. "I wish. He'd be a lot less irritating as a pile of dust."

"Oooh…but I want him to come with us, Daddy."

Spike opened his eyes then, meeting Dru's wide gaze. It hadn't been that long ago that the idea of hunting with Drusilla would've brought him bounding to his feet. But since Angelus's return, that had changed. Spike would find himself lagging behind as Dru watched with the glee of an evil child as Angelus tortured his latest meal. The elder vampire's posturing for Drusilla made Spike nothing more than bored. He could remember things being this way in the past, before the onset of "Angel," but at that time he hadn't had decades of Dru to himself. Watching Drusilla focused so intently on someone other than him now took the sweetness out of the hunt.

"I'll catch up later, pet," he said. "You go have your fun."

Drusilla surprised him when she stepped back from the bed with a hiss. "You won't come at all. The pixies are whispering to me, and you're going to be a very naughty boy if you stay. Come now or I shan't let you have any cake."

"I'm not in the mood for cake, Dru," Spike snapped as he sat up.

"No," Drusilla spat. "You want spun sugar and lemon drops."

"As amusing as this lovers' quarrel for the insane is, can we get going? I'm hungry," Angelus said, a bored expression on his face as he stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

Drusilla turned away from Spike, going to her sire. Angelus took her hand, giving Spike a mock salute before leaving.

Spike growled, flopping back on the bed. This was getting to be too much. He found himself actually missing Darla. At least she'd managed to pull some of Angelus's attention away from Drusilla. But now… Things had gotten to the point that Spike had actually entertained the crazy notion of helping the Slayer kill her pointy-haired wanker of an ex.

He got out of the bed, angrily gathering his clothes. He needed to kill something.

*** *** ***

I've had several questions as to whether or not Spike killed Joyce. I'm not going to answer this here, or as a response to any of the reviews where the question has been asked because that would spoil things for the readers who don't want to know. But, if whether or not you want to keep reading this story depends on the answer to that, then email me (addie_logan@yahoo.com) and I'll let you know. I can see where that would be an issue for some readers, and I'll be happy to answer that in a way that won't ruin things for the other readers.

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, and I really hope you'll keep it up. This story is different than anything I've written before, which makes me all the more curious to know what people are thinking. I write primarily to please myself, sure, but I could do that and not post it on the internet for other people to read. (Not that I have any intention of stopping my posts. Don't panic.) If I'm going to take the time to present the story to others, I'd like to know what they think of it. I hope you can all understand that. :)

"You're only going to get yourself killed, you know."

Buffy ignore the Slayer, as she came down the stairs and walked to the front door. "I'm not going to wait around for you, Nancy. Spike is out there, and he's gone too long already without paying for what he did to my mother." Buffy walked out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

"Fine, let Spike rip out your throat," Nancy muttered under her breath. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

Giles stepped into the foyer a moment later, a frown on his face. "Did Buffy leave?"

"Yes," Nancy replied.

"She's hell-bent on killing Spike, G-Man," Xander called from the couch. "She's not gonna let Nancy stop her."

Giles forced himself to contain his annoyance with the teen boy. "Nancy, gather your weapons and catch up with Buffy. What she's planning to do amounts to suicide."

"It's her choice," Nancy said. "Why should I put myself in danger because she's reckless?"

Giles looked at her, his expression unrelenting. "Because I am your Watcher and I am telling you to do it," he replied, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Nancy gaped in surprise. Giles rarely talked to her like that—if ever. "I'll get my stakes," she said, going up the stairs. She got ready for patrol as quickly as she could, the current mood of her Watcher leading her to believe that any hesitation on her part would not be accepted.

When she went back downstairs, Nancy found Willow and Xander waiting by the door. "Do you want us to come with?" Willow asked.

Nancy shook her head. "No. It would be too dangerous right now. Who knows what could happen if Buffy catches up with Spike, and I don't want the two of you caught in the crossfire."

"If you say so, Nan," Xander replied. "But we're just a phone call away if you need us."

"I know. See the both of you later." Nancy stepped out of the house, wondering if she'd even be able to find Buffy.

*** *** ***

Spike heard something, but with all the whimpering and carrying on of his current prey, he couldn't concentrate enough to suss out what it was. He snapped the young woman's neck and she fell silent to the ground. There. That was much better.

He heard it again, a noise so quiet it almost wasn't there. Someone was sneaking into this warehouse with him and obviously trying to be stealthy about it. With his hearing, that was just wasted energy. He sniffed the air, a smirk forming on his face as he caught the scent.

"Just couldn't stay away from me, could you, pet? You don't have to be shy, luv. Why don't you come out and play?" She stayed hidden, but Spike could smell the trace of fear in the air now that she knew he knew she was there, and the scent went straight to his groin, making his jeans tighten. Maybe he could have a little fun with this one before he killed her. It wasn't like he'd been spending any time with Drusilla in his bed recently…

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," Spike called, moving slowly towards where he knew she was hiding. A bolt from a crossbow shot out from the dark, whizzing past his side. "Sorry, luv. You missed me."

Spike heard the click as she loaded the crossbow again, but this time he didn't let her fire. He knocked over the crates she'd been using as shelter. "Found you."

Buffy tried to scramble away from him, but Spike wouldn’t let her. Instead, he knocked the crossbow from her hands and pulled her towards him. She broke away from his grip, coming around to punch him in the face. Spike only grinned, wiping the blood away from his nose. "Feel like playing rough, do you? That's all right, baby. It's just the way I like it."

Buffy went towards her crossbow again, but Spike grabbed her, hauling her up and holding her tightly against him so she couldn't get to the weapon. "Let me go," Buffy said, struggling in his grip.

"'Fraid I can't do that," Spike replied. "You are here to kill me after all. Not so sure letting you go would be healthy for me."

Spike was too strong, and Buffy knew she couldn't break free of the hold he had on her now. He had her pressed against him, front to front, his arms pinning hers to her sides. He had her, and she had failed. She took a moment to ask forgiveness from her dead mother before turning her head to the side. "Get it over with."

Spike's demon visage shifted into place at the sight of her neck bared to him, waiting for his fangs to sink into what was being offered. It was tempting to taste her now, but it would be such a waste to leave her untouched. He inhaled deeply, her scent washing over him. "Not quite yet, kitten. Gonna have a little fun with you first."

Buffy frowned in confusion, wondering what he could mean by that. Then it dawned on her as she realized what part of him was pressed up against her. Her eyes widened. He couldn't honestly… He leaned in and kissed her, his tongue forcing entry into her mouth. He did…

Spike had debated for a moment over whether or not to take the time to kiss her, and he was glad he had made the decision to do it. She tasted wonderful, the warmth of her mouth amazing, and he hungered for more. His fangs nipped at her lips and tongue, and he could taste her blood in his mouth, feeding his desire. And when her tongue began to actively meet his and a hint of her arousal hit his nostrils, Spike couldn't help but groan and thrust against her.

Buffy realized with a flash of horror that she was responding to him. The monster that had murdered her mother was kissing her and she was kissing back. This was wrong. She'd shamed her mother enough with her inability to get revenge. She needed to pull away, to try to fight again. Killing her was one thing, but this…

Spike felt her body tense up, and he moved his hands under her shirt, pushing the cups of her bra out of the way and massaging her breasts. Whether she was compliant or not didn't really make a difference to him in the end, but he'd been enjoying her response. The scent of her arousal made it all the sweeter… His thumbs flicked over her hardened nipples, and Buffy moaned, arching into his hands. Spike smiled against her lips, knowing he had her. It wasn't often that a woman could resist him when he didn't want her to…

Buffy's mind seemed to have all but shut down. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, that she should be thinking about what he had done to her mother and not what he was doing to her right now, but the assault on her senses was too much. Unarmed and at the mercy of a vampire, she had very little doubt that she was going to die that night. Maybe if she gave in, let herself feel what he was offering, it would make facing that easier.

She knew it was wrong to take that last bit of solace in the arms of your killer, but as he pulled her jeans open and pushed his hands between her legs, that didn't seem to matter anymore.

Spike could feel how tight she was, even as her moisture coated his fingers, making their rough slide inside her a little easier. He couldn't get in much further than about an inch, and he knew filling her with his cock would prove difficult. But he wasn't going to stop or even slow down. She was grinding against him, a glassy look to her eyes, and it was turning him on too much to not have her right then.

With a growl, Spike shoved her against the wall, roughly pulling down her jeans. When they stopped at her shoes, he pulled harder, tearing the thick denim until they were hanging off one leg. Buffy's arms and legs went around him, clinging to him, and Spike unbuttoned his own jeans, freeing his cock from its confines.

Spike held her up, poised at the tip of his cock, and watched the blonde he had pinned for a moment. Her face was flushed, her eyes closed, and he knew she was gone—lost in her body's reaction to his touch. He pulled her down on to him, using his superior strength to force his way in when her small body tried to reject his girth. Her eyes popped open, a scream torn from deep in her throat, and Spike knew without a doubt that he was the first man to touch this girl. He gritted his teeth, stilling his movements more for himself than for her. It had been a while since he'd last taken a human, and he'd forgotten how hot they were. Or maybe this one was just hotter than most. She was like thrusting into warm sunshine…

Dru's ramblings from earlier in the evening came rushing back to him, and Spike had to fight the near-hysterical laughter that threatened to break forth. Sometimes that woman made more sense than he thought even she realized.

Buffy pushed at Spike's shoulders, the pain bordering on unbearable. He was nearly ripping her in two, and she squirmed and pushed, wanting him off of her.

Spike gave a low growl as he felt her responses stop being welcoming towards him. No matter how much she struggled, he certainly wasn't going to stop now, not with how tight and hot she was. But he'd also been enjoying her earlier enthusiasm, and he wanted to feel her move against him.

He wanted to know how sweet her blood would taste when she was in the throes of an orgasm…

He kissed her, stifling her cries of pain as he reached between their bodies with one hand, finding her clit and rubbing it hard.

Buffy stopped struggling as the pain began to fade, replaced by the shocks his fingers were making course through her. Some of the pain remained, his rough thrusts heedless of her torn, untried body, but the pleasure was enough now that it didn't matter. It only added to the overall sensation.

Spike pulled his lips from hers, noticing that the cries she made now were again ones of pleasure. She was no longer pushing him away, but pulling him closer, her hips coming up from the wall as best they could to meet his thrusts. He could feel her getting close, her already wonderfully tight vaginal walls growing tighter, squeezing him harder than he ever remembered experiencing before. The sounds she was making were nearly inhuman, and they only served to drive him further out of his mind.

When she bucked hard against him, the scream she let out the loudest yet, Spike knew she had reached her peak. He moved in then, his fangs ripping into her throat as he came inside her, filling her with his cool, dead seed as he took her warm life's blood.

As he heard her heartbeat slow, Spike dropped her, letting her fall to the ground in a heap.

*** *** ***

Drusilla and Angelus had apparently returned from their hunt by the time Spike got back to the mansion, as Drusilla was waiting for him. She flew at him in a rage, clawing at him, her nails scratching his face deep before he grabbed her wrists and held her away from him.

"The pixies are whispering to me what you've done, Spike, but I don't need to listen," she sneered. "I can smell her all over you. Nasty bits of sunshine clinging to my dark knight, making him too dirty for Mummy to bathe."

Spike was far from in the mood for Drusilla's jealous snit. "Guess now you know what I felt every time you came back from Angelus," he replied.

"You'll try to make her your pretty dolly, but she doesn't want to play. She'll hate you. They always hate you." She stopped, tilting her head and looking at a space somewhere beyond him. "Limp, sentimental fool."

Spike roared, tossing Drusilla to the ground. He'd had enough of this—her rejection, her cold words. He stalked towards her, his demon at the surface until he heard her whimpering, cowering from him. He softened then, his face going from demon to human. "Dru…pet…"

Before Spike could make another move, Angelus sauntered into the room, taking a quick look at the scene playing out in front of him. "What's this? You finally grow a pair, Willie boy?"

"Piss off, Angelus," Spike snarled back.

"I will as soon as I get what I came for." Angelus held his hand out towards Drusilla. "Dru, I told you to wait for me in the bed. I'm afraid there's going to have to be a spanking."

Drusilla jumped to her feet, clasping her hands together. "Ooh, how I do love a spanking! Can there be whips?"

Angelus shrugged. "If you want."

"Dru an' I weren't finished talking yet," Spike snapped at his grandsire.

"Yeah, you were," Angelus replied. "Besides, it smells like you've already had your fun for the night. Been playing with your food?" Angelus chuckled as he left the room, Drusilla running along behind him.

Filled with anger and frustration he could do nothing to truly vent, Spike picked up a chair, throwing it at the closed door with a roar.

*** *** ***

Still with me on this one? It is going to be dark for a while, but I promise you the whole story won't be all angst.

Please review!

Buffy woke slowly, her head feeling as if it had been stuffed full of cotton. He body was numb, and there was a light shining in her eyes that seemed too bright.

"Buffy? Are you awake?"

Buffy turned her head slightly, though the dull pain in her neck made it difficult. She blinked, bringing the face of the person beside her into focus. "Giles?" she asked, her throat scratchy and making her voice sound more like a squeak.

Giles was relieved that Buffy had regained consciousness, though he feared the worst was yet to come. He had told the doctors that he was her father, and they had disclosed to him Buffy's physical state when she arrived at the hospital. It seemed as though her blood had not been enough to satisfy the demon that had done this to her, and it made his stomach turn to think of this girl having to suffer such a horror. "I sent Nancy to help you," Giles said. "She couldn't find you. I should've gone, too. I should have…" His voice broke. "Buffy, I'm so sorry."

Buffy reached weakly over the side of the hospital bad, laying her hand on top of his. "I'm okay," she said. "I'm not dead."

And she wondered why that was. Spike had had her at his mercy. She wasn't fighting him, too far caught up in what he was doing to her body for that. His fangs had been in her throat. He drank from her. Why didn't he finish the job?

"Is the patient awake?" a nurse asked as she walked into the room.

"I'm awake," Buffy said. "A little woozy, but awake."

"The police have been waiting to speak to you," the nurse said as she checked Buffy's vitals. "Do you feel up to it?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied.

"Are you sure?" Giles asked. "You…"

"I'm fine. Send them in," Buffy said, hoping she sounded stronger than she actually felt. She tried to sit up, but found it difficult so she remained lying down.

The nurse left, and a few moments later two men walked in. They each gave a nod towards Giles before turning to Buffy. "I'm Detective Anderson and this is Detective Greene," one of them said. "We know you're still recuperating, so we won't take up much of you're time. We've been having trouble identifying the other young woman found in the warehouse with you, and…"

"Other young woman?" Buffy asked with a frown.

"Her body was found near you, with injuries similar to your own," Detective Greene clarified. "You don't know who she was?"

Buffy realized then what Spike must've been doing when she'd first come to that warehouse. He'd been feeding, and apparently that girl hadn't been as lucky as she'd been. One of his victims had laid there dead while she'd let him… Buffy felt sick to her stomach.

"No," she told the detectives. "I didn't know her."

"Oh, well, then thank you for your time," Detective Anderson said. "We hope have you a speedy recovery." He and his partner walked out without another word.

"Giles, they never even asked me for a description of the man that attacked me," Buffy said. "Not that it would've done any good, but…"

"You're on a Hellmouth now, Buffy. The police tend to turn a blind eye to people found with puncture wounds in their necks," Giles said.

"So they just give vampires free reign of the town—knowingly?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

"For the most part, yes," Giles replied. "But Nancy has done much to keep down the undead population since coming here."

"Such is the life of the Slayer." Buffy looked around, the bright hospital walls seeming almost blinding. "I need to get out of here, Giles. I hate hospitals."

"Now that you've woken up, I doubt you'll have to stay much longer." Giles paused, clearing his throat. "The doctor did say you may wish to speak to a counselor before you left."

"A counselor?" Buffy asked with a frown. "What, do they have vamp-snack counselors on the Hellmouth, too?"

"No." Giles took off his glasses, looking down and away from Buffy. "From your injuries…it appears as if…" He looked up at her again, taking a deep breath. "The doctor believed you may wish to speak to a rape counselor, Buffy."

Buffy's eyes widened. Giles thought… She wasn't going to kid herself. She knew if she hadn't have been willing with Spike, he would've done it anyway. He was a vampire, and "no" wasn't a word they actually listened to. But she hadn't told him no. She'd let him use her body, and she'd enjoyed it.

She wondered if that was partly worse, at least in the long run. She'd have to live with the knowledge for the rest of her life that she had taken pleasure in the arms of her mother's killer—with another one of his victims dead in the room. What she had done was sick and wrong—dirty.

"No, Giles," she said softly. "I don't need a counselor for that. I just want to leave this place."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Giles stood, replacing his glasses on his nose. "I'll go find the doctor, see about getting you released."

Buffy gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

*** *** ***

It was a while yet until nightfall, but Spike couldn't sleep. Thankfully, Drusilla and Angelus had finally worn themselves out, leaving him free of their screams and moans.

But it was a whole different set of moans that he couldn't get out of his head. It still seemed unbelievable to him that he'd gotten such a ride out of a tiny human girl who couldn't be any older than seventeen. And a virgin at that… He'd come harder in her than he remembered coming in a long time. Still made him shiver just thinking about it.

And her blood… It had been so sweet, its rich flavor still seeming to coat his mouth now, hours later.

Maybe that's why he hadn't killed her. He'd wanted to taste her blood again. She'd been too good to use only once. He'd use her again, get his fill of her, and then he'd kill her. Yeah, that was what he'd wanted all along, why he'd walked away while her heart was still beating.

He shifted in the cold bed, wishing she was there with him. Her warm, tight body was just the place he wanted to be. She could drive from his mind the fact that Drusilla was sleeping next to another man.

He shouldn't have left her in the warehouse. He should've taken her someplace where he could break her in properly. His cock grew hard as he thought about what he could do to her, all the ways he could make her scream in both pleasure and pain.

Spike slid his left hand under the sheet, grasping his cock, slicking it with the fluid that was already oozing from the tip. There was no way he could duplicate her warmth with his own cold hand, but if he squeezed hard enough he could almost meet her tightness. He closed his eyes, drawing her scent to the front of his mind, replaying her every cry, every moan. He stroked faster, his hand sliding up and down with superhuman speed as he remembered how she'd felt with her legs wrapped around his waist, her small hands clinging to him.

His fangs pushed through his gums, the bones of his forehead shifting as he remembered the feel of her blood flowing into his mouth, its sweet taste on his tongue. He came into his hand with a roar, lost in the memory of her.

He was panting when he came back down, heedless of the fact that he didn't need to breathe. He wiped his spendings on the side of the bed before rolling over, his eyes closing as a smile formed on his lips. When the sun went down, he'd find that girl and come inside her wet, velvet heat again and again until he'd had his fill of her body and her blood.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on Nancy's bed, staring at the blue comforter. It reminded her of his eyes, and she hated herself for even thinking that.

She looked up sharply when there was a knock at the door, and she wondered with dread who it was on the other side. Nancy was the last person she wanted to see, and Giles would look at her with pity and make her feel even worse.

He should be looking at her with disgust, the way he surely would if he knew the truth.

"Come in," she said, deciding to bite the bullet. She felt actually relieved when she saw the Willow poke her head in.

"I brought you juice and cookies," Willow said, coming into the room. "That's what they always feed you after you give blood." Willow frowned. "Although I guess he probably took a lot more than the Red Cross usually does."

"They gave me a transfusion for most of it, so I'm sure this will help with the rest," Buffy said, taking the offered juice and cookies.

Willow smiled. "Well, that's why I came upstairs, so I'll just leave now. Let you get some rest."

"You can stay," Buffy said quickly. Maybe if someone else was in the room she'd stop thinking about eyes that seemed to be able to look right through her be they blue or feral gold…

"Need some company?" Willow asked.

"Something like that," Buffy replied.

Willow sat on the edge of the bed and Buffy sipped her juice. The cookies looked homemade, and when she bit into one, it was still warm. She swallowed and said, "These are really good."

Willow beamed. "You like them? I baked them for you myself."

Buffy was a little startled by what the other girl had just said. It wasn't often that anyone did anything for her. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You'll be good as new really soon," Willow said. "A couple of days rest, and…"

"I'm going back out tonight," Buffy said. "Spike isn't dust yet, and I need to fix that." She realized with another wave of self-disgust quickly following that that thought didn't seem as wholly good as it once had, her hatred for him now tainted by the memory of his touch.

"Buffy, you can't!" Willow exclaimed. "Spike's already hurt you once, and now you're weak. You can't rush out there again."

"I have to. As long as I'm still alive and Spike's still around, I have to keep fighting him."

"He'll kill you!" Willow said.

"Maybe. But that's a chance I'm willing to take," Buffy replied. And in all honesty, part of her wished Spike would kill her. It was what she deserved now.

"Buffy, please don't," Willow begged. "I know we don't know each other very well, but I really don't want you to die."

"You'll forget me soon enough," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Don't talk like that! Buffy, please don't go after Spike alone again. Promise me you'll just stay in tonight and rest."

Buffy knew Willow wasn't going to stop asking her for a promise she couldn't give. Furthermore, she really wouldn't put it past the girl to tell Giles and have him find a way to make her stay. She glanced towards the window, seeing how close the branches of a nearby tree came. "Okay. I won't go downstairs tonight."

Willow brightened. "Good. And we'll get Spike, Buffy. He'll be dust soon."

She pushed down the part of her that rebelled at that thought. Dust was what she wanted Spike to be.

But right now, she just wanted him off her mind. He made things too confusing, made it too hard to think in black and white. "Could we maybe talk about something else?" Buffy asked.

"Of course!" Willow replied. "I doubt Spike is all that fun of a conversation topic for you… What would you like to talk about?"

Buffy gave Willow a small smile. "Why don't you tell me all about life here on the Hellmouth?"

*** *** ***

"Drusilla, as much as I enjoy the sight of your naked body, stop dancing around the room. It's giving me a headache," Angelus snapped from his reclining position on his four-poster bed.

Drusilla didn't stop her spinning and swaying. "But the stars are talking, Daddy. They're telling me all about my William's pretty new dolly."

Angelus sat up, taking interest in that. "Yeah? What are they saying, Dru?"

Drusilla turned to her sire, her eyes sparkling. "They're saying you should take her away. Spike shouldn't get presents when he's being such a naughty boy."

"No, he shouldn't," Angelus said with a grin. "So where's this girl?"

Dru clucked. "Not now, Daddy. Isn't time. Must wait for the moon to shine and light our way." She began swaying again, humming a tune to herself.

Angelus lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He knew just the way to have a good time that night, and tormenting Spike was going to be an added bonus…

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Willow gasped. "Are you sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

What do you think of this plot twist? Please leave a review, let me know if you're still enjoying the story.

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

"Stay put."

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

"What…what happened?" Buffy asked weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mine."

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I said come here."

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

"Get in this bed. Now."

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

*** *** ***

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

"Find some food," Spike replied.

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

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

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

Buffy blinked, straightening her head. "Huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

What do you think? Like it? Hate it? Please review and let me know!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mutual," Spike replied with a cruel grin.

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

"What are you doing?" Spike asked.

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

"Yes you are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow, he didn't think so.

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

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

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

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

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

"What's your name?"

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

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

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

"Buffy? Are you serious?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

*** *** ***

Another break in posts, I know, but I really want to try to get some of my WIP's done, so I'm going to try to be more regular with them. I already have another chapter of this one close to finished, so it shouldn't be too long until I can get it up.

Hopefully, you're still reading after the delay. Please leave a review if you're enjoying this story!

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

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

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

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

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

"Rotten is right," Buffy muttered.

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

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

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

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

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

"That's a crappy reason."

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

"So let me drive."

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't have to go then."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's hideous. Take it off."

"No. I'm cold."

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes…oh yes…Spike…"

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

"You forced yourself on me then!"

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

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

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

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

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

"You're lying."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

I don't know if any of you will like it as much, but that was one of my favorite chapters of this story to write so far. Maybe it was the image of Buffy in that sweatshirt… Anyway, I hope you're all still enjoying this, and please remember to leave a review!

The song used is "Submission" by the Sex Pistols.

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

"Hello?"

"Hey, Giles. It's Buffy."

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

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

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

"He had me. I got away."

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

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

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

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

"Buffy, I…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That lust is all yours."

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

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

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

Buffy glared at him. "No."

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

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

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

*** *** ***

Well, they've finally broached the subject of Joyce, and Spike didn't kill her—unless he's being all undead liar guy. Hmm… Guess you'll just have to keep reading if you want to know for sure.

Please remember to feed the author. Reviews are quite tasty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dru…"

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

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

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

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

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

"Why were you trying to wake me up?"

"I was bored."

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

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

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

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

"So I hurt your feelings then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go away."

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

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

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

"No!"

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

"I hate you!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You just did!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes! Fuck me now, Spike!"

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

Reviews make me happy. Don't you want to make me happy? *puppy-dog eyes*

Buffy woke up disoriented, experiencing a sensation she wasn't familiar with. Something was coursing through her, like lust but different—stronger. It was intense and intoxicating, making her whole body hum.

And then she knew. What she was feeling became blindingly clear to her, and she jumped from the bed, running to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth. She made it to the toilet just in time, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the basin.

She wiped her mouth before flushing, then leaned back against the cool bathroom wall. Her stomach was still rebelling, though now she had nothing left in her system to purge. She kept her head down, purposely avoiding the mirror. She couldn't stand the thought of having to look at her own reflection.

She'd forgotten again. The vampire had touched her—wooed her—until she'd again forgotten he was a monster. Buffy pulled her knees to her chin, shame flooding her. She'd always fought to be strong, but now, she saw she was weak. She didn't even have the strength to resist the caress of a cold-blooded killer.

He'd fed again. Somehow, she'd let herself ignore that that was more than a possibility, spending the afternoon in his arms without thinking even once about how soon he would take another life—or lifting a finger to stop him.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she hugged her knees tighter. She'd sat back and allowed him to kill again and then—to make it even worse—she'd experienced the kill right along with him. She'd felt what he felt as he fed off of his most recent victim, felt how he'd enjoyed it. Knowing those feelings came from an outside source didn't serve to quell Buffy's horror or shame. He'd killed and he'd liked it—and now she knew how that felt.

"Buffy? Kitten, what's wrong?"

Buffy didn't look up when Spike came back to the motel room and stopped in the doorway of the bathroom. She couldn't look into his eyes. They were always so full of emotion—so human—that they made it hard for her to remember she was looking at a monster.

Spike came into the bathroom, kneeling beside her. "I felt you through the claim. You're upset."

Buffy kept her eyes trained on the linoleum floor. "Get away from me."

Spike sighed. "So it's back to this then, is it? Come on, luv. You and I both know you never get very far with this." He reached out to stroke her hair.

Buffy jerked back, scrambling to get away from him. "Don't touch me! You've still got his blood on you!"

"You know where I was then," Spike said, figuring out the reason for Buffy's behavior now. "I've got to feed, Buffy. Besides, it wasn't like it was anyone special—just the motel clerk."

Buffy looked up then, flinching as she saw his face. He was so handsome, but she had to make herself remember that it wasn't real—just the disguise of a man who had been dead for over a century. This face she saw now wasn't the same as the last face the motel clerk had seen before he'd died. "That doesn't matter! He was a person! He…he could've had a family, people who loved him. Did you even think about that?"

"What does it matter? Do you think a lion wonders if a gazelle has a family before he has it for dinner? It's the sodding food chain, Buffy—and I'm higher up than he was."

"It's not the same!" Buffy replied. "This isn't the Discover Channel. You're murdering people! It's wrong!"

"I'm a vampire! I kill, I feed. It's what I do. You bloody well get used to it."

Buffy rose to her feet. "No. I could never get used to that. I won't…I won't live with a killer." She tried to leave the bathroom, but Spike grabbed her, pinning her against the wall.

"You don't have a choice," he told her, his voice low. "You're my mate—mine. You don't have any say in how your life is run from now on. I've been more lenient than I should've been already, but that can change real quick. You know that free will you're so fond of? I could take that away in an instant, force you to be my willing slave all the time. You want that?"

"No," Buffy said, her head turned to the side.

Spike shook her, hitting her back against the wall. "Look at me when you say it."

Buffy brought her face around to meet his, her eyes narrowed even as tears glistened in them. "No."

"Then you get yourself dressed right now so we can get out of here. Anymore backtalk from you, and your free will is gone—got it?"

"Yes."

Spike let go of Buffy's arms and she slumped back down to the floor. "Don't dawdle. We didn't get nearly as far as I wanted to last night."

Buffy got off the floor, going into the bedroom to find her clothes.

*** *** ***

When Spike saw that Buffy had put that horrible pink sweatshirt back on, he knew he should order her to take it off and leave it behind. It was an obvious act of defiance, and he should curb those before they got any further out of hand. However, her distress was clear through the claim, and if the sweatshirt made her feel better, she could wear it—he'd just have to make certain that that was where her defiant behavior ended.

Spike picked Buffy bags up off the table, then pointed towards the door. "Go to the car."

Buffy gave him a glare before she started to turn around. Spike moved before she could get very far, grabbing her arm and pulling her against him so he could speak into her ear. "Give me that look again and I smack it right off your face. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Buffy ground out.

"Good." Spike let go of her, pushing her forward as he did. Buffy stumbled for only a second before regaining her poise and walking to the DeSoto.

She waited for Spike to come unlock the car door, her arms wrapped defensively across her chest. Her gaze traveled unbidden to the motel office, a lump growing in her throat as she thought about what was in there. A dead body—a man murdered by the evil thing she was traveling with.

She wanted to run, to keep going until she found herself back in her life again. But she knew he'd catch her, and then he'd take away her free will for sure, just like he said he would back in the bathroom. She was trapped, forced to spend the rest of her life with a vampire.

Spike came over to her side of the car first, unlocking the door and holding it open for her as he really were her boyfriend and not her captor. She slid into the seat, shuttering as the door slammed behind her. She didn't look at Spike as he got into the car, staring instead at the black of the painted windshield. She was trapped, unable to even see the outside.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her. "I can stop somewhere for you."

"I ate when you were asleep," Buffy replied, her eyes still facing straight ahead.

"That couldn't have been a real meal, pet. Will you be all right with more fast food for now?"

Buffy hated this the most—when he pretended to actually care. She didn't know why he bothered, what he could possibly gain from the act. "I'm not hungry."

"You've got to be hungry."

"I don't want anything from you. I'd rather starve."

Spike's only response was to start the car and tear out of the parking lot. He pulled into a fast food restaurant across the street, ignoring Buffy's protests as he went into the drive-thru and ordered her dinner.

Once he had the food, Spike thrust it at her. "Eat."

"No."

"Either you eat or I make you eat—that's the only choice you're getting."

Buffy snatched the bag from him, not wanting Spike to take away what little bit of herself she had left. She ate quickly, silently cursing him as she did. If she couldn't fight against him, at least she could hate him.

Spike didn't turn on any music this time, and Buffy found the silence to be even worse. With no sound and no view beyond that of the car's interior, she felt confined, trapped in a box—or a coffin.

"Where are we?" Buffy asked suddenly, unable to stand it anymore.

"It's none of your business," Spike replied without looking at her.

"Knowing where I am isn't any of my business?"

"No, it isn't."

"Where are we going then?"

"That's none of your business either."

"Yes it is! I deserve to know where you're taking me!"

"The only thing that matters for you is that you're with your mate. Anything beyond that is inconsequential."

"No, that isn't all that matters! I don't even want to be with you at all. I wish I'd never met you."

Spike's body stiffened. "The feeling's more than mutual."

"Guess that can be the one thing we agree on," Buffy muttered, her eyes trained again on the black painted windows.

"You know, I don't know what your bloody problem is. I didn't kill your mum, so you can stop blaming me for that. And it's not like you've got things so bad. You're my mate, so I have to make sure you're taken care of."

"I don't want you taking care of me. And my problem is that I'm the prisoner of a vampire. That doesn't exactly fill me with warm fuzzies when I think about it."

"A prisoner?" Spike repeated, scoffing. "You are not a prisoner."

"What am I then? It's not like I can leave you now."

"Not anymore than I can leave you! We're connected now, Buffy—you to me and me to you. Even if we went our separate ways the claim would pull us back together. We need each other now."

"You're the last thing I need."

"You need me now like you need to breathe, baby. You can try fighting it all you want, but it won't do you a damn bit of good. I'm in your system, in your blood."

"I'm stronger than some stupid claim," Buffy protested. "I'll learn how to fight it eventually."

Spike laughed, earning him a glare from his mate. "Nothing's stronger than a claim, ducks. Not even the most powerful magic in the world can break one. Believe me, if getting out of this was an option, then we already would've gone our separate ways. I'm not any more thrilled about the whole thing than you are."

"You got the better end of the deal," Buffy replied.

"Why, because I get to spend so much time around your precious self? Hardly. You've been nothing but trouble for me since the start, princess."

"Better than being stuck with you. You're evil!"

"And from my point of view, you not being evil is as much of a problem," Spike pointed out. "An evil mate wouldn't whine at me for feeding."

"I am not whining! You killed a man, and that's wrong. Murder is wrong, and it's never going to something I'm okay with."

"Well, you're just going to have to be!" Spike yelled, slamming one hand against the dashboard and making Buffy jump. "This isn't a negotiable topic. I wouldn't change my feeding habits to please anyone, especially you."

Buffy said nothing in response, knowing this conversation was getting her nowhere she wanted to be. She knew the only way to ensure a vampire stopped feeding was by making it dust, and that was not something she was capable of doing when it came to Spike. She was forced to spend the rest of her life letting people be murdered—as she experienced it right along side the killer. It was a horror she wasn't sure she could face.

Buffy curled up in the passenger's seat of the oversized car, staring at the black, empty windows.

*** *** ***

Buffy had fallen asleep by the time they reached the next motel, and while Spike carried her in as he had the night before, this time he merely dumped her unceremoniously on the bed before backing away.

The girl was doing something to him. He wouldn't dare admit it to her, but as the effects of the claim were far from one-sided, there was nothing the claim did to her that didn't have the reciprocal effect on him.

He hadn't quite relished the kill tonight, not the way he normally did. He'd tried to tell himself it was because a middle-aged, overweight motel clerk wasn't exactly the tasty morsel say a ripe, young virgin was, but he knew in all honesty that it wasn't just that that left the bad taste in his mouth. He'd felt her distress over the claim and it had tugged at him, making him hurt because she was hurting. If that happened every time he fed…

Spike shook his head, denying where that train of thought seemed to be heading. Buffy would get used to things eventually. She'd have to start realizing the way things were and come to accept them. He couldn't stop feeding, and she'd come to live with that in time.

Sensing the sun coming up over the horizon, Spike stripped off his duster, shirt, and bootsand got into the bed.

*** *** ***

Questions? Comments? Rotten tomatoes?

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, finding herself in yet another motel room. These cheap rooms all looked the same and had already begun to blur together in her mind, making it even harder for her to get a firm sense of where she was. She had thought the few trees she'd noticed in the little time she'd spent outside had indicated that they had gone north, but she didn't know if they had stayed in that direction or, if they had, how far they'd gotten. She knew there were possibly clues in the room to their location—perhaps a phone book—but she was too nervous to look. Spike had told her it wasn't important for her to know where they were, and what if he was really serious about her not knowing? If he caught her trying to find out, would he do what he'd warned her of the night before and take away her free will? Buffy shuddered at the thought. That was the one thing she knew would make this all even more unbearable.

Spike was sleeping beside her in the bed, but he had not moved close to her in the night like he normally did. He was almost to the other edge of the bed, his limbs kept in check instead of his usual sprawling. He'd taken off his boots and shirt, though his jeans were still on, and the sight made Buffy feel a momentary pang as she decided he had most likely done so to keep his distance from her. She missed the feeling of waking up with him curled around her, his body warmed by the heat he'd taken from her in the night.

No…she didn't miss that. Not at all. She had to remind herself of that, shaking away her first, traitorous thoughts that she knew must've been pushed into her mind by the claim. Spike keeping his distance as they slept was good, second only to him deciding he'd much rather sleep in the now-sunny parking lot.

Because he was a vampire, and for that she did want him dust. She did. It didn't matter if the claim told her otherwise.

Buffy's eyes trailed over Spike's still form, a lump in her throat. He was on his back, his hands clasped over his abdomen, and he looked like nothing more than a corpse. He made no movements, his chest still, and she shuddered. The demon was sleeping, leaving nothing for her to see but the dead body of the man it had taken over.

Her mother's Watcher, Harold, had always made one thing abundantly clear to her—vampires were not the people they had been before death. Those people were gone, killed the moment their souls left their bodies. Vampires retained the memories of the person, yes, but they were nothing but demons. It was a cruel treachery that allowed vampires to blend in with the humans they made their prey.

Buffy would not fall victim to the ruse. This creature she saw now was not a man at all, but a monster. He took the lives of others for his own pleasure. Whatever man the vampire's body had belonged to in life was long gone.

Her thoughts traveled unbidden to what sort of man he had been. Had he been cruel like the vampire, or had he been someone good, someone innocent, who had merely become a victim?

Buffy had never given much thought to such a topic before. There was no reason to think about the humans vampires had once been—the only thing that mattered was that their bodies would now become dust, doing away with the demon that inhabited them.

But what had he been like? She had found what information she could on Spike when she'd thought he was her mother's killer, but anything on the man that came before the vampire was sparse at best. She hadn't even been able to pinpoint an exact date of turning, since his age varied from text to text, as did the name of his sire. Some texts attributed his siring to Angelus, while others cited that Angelus was his grandsire and it was Drusilla who was in fact his actual sire. His age posed even more of a problem as almost every text gave a different date, ranging from the mid 1700's to the late 1800's. They did tend to agree on one thing, however—his name had been William.

William. He was a man whose body she had touched many times, though she would never get the chance to know him. The thought disturbed her slightly, reminding her as the sight of him so still now did, that her lover was essentially a dead man.

Buffy stopped her train of thought right there. Lover? No, he wasn't that. She wouldn't think of him as that—she would never think of him as that. What he'd done to her, this claim, had been done against her will. It had twisted her, made her want things she never would've wanted under normal circumstances.

Buffy wanted to forget what she'd felt when he'd fed the night before, but she wouldn't allow herself such an escape. She needed that reminder of what he really was. He wasn't a man. He wasn't William. He was Spike. A cold-blooded killer. A monster. He didn't have the capacity to be anything else. After all, a soul was what allowed you to care, what allowed you to feel, and he was without one.

She cast one last glance at the vampire before getting out of bed. She gathered some clothes together and headed to the bathroom to shower, hoping it would make her feel better.

It didn't. She was physically cleaner, but that's where it ended. She was still trapped here, still at the mercy of a vampire. Buffy sat down in a sparsely-padded wooden chair, staring at the closed curtains. She missed the sun, missed being outside and letting the warmth wash over her. She wondered if she'd ever get to feel that again. Spike had been very clear when she'd left to call Giles that she wasn't to go outside in the day where he couldn't get to her, and with Spike around she couldn't as much as open the curtains to even see the daylight.

Buffy had made the dark her home in her quest to avenge her mother's death, but it wasn't at all she wanted, wasn't where she felt the happiest. Back when she was living with Howard, there had been a balcony connected to their apartment that he'd kept covered in potted flowers. It had become her haven, her own little garden where she'd spent long hours, just enjoying the peace and tranquility. Did being Spike's mate mean she had to give that up completely, living instead in dank motel rooms and dark alleys?

Longing welled up inside her at the very thought. She knew now exactly where she was—hell. She was suffering, stripped of her choices and her freedom, forced to hide in the dark with a monster who would make her live through his evil deeds over and over again until it broke her.

And it would break her. Buffy was certain of that. What she had experienced the night before when Spike had murdered the motel clerk still shook her, the memory of it screaming inside of her, her mind and soul still assaulted in its wake as they had been in the moment. The thought of it was something almost tangible, made more vivid from being experienced through his vampiric senses, bringing with them an intensity she had never known before.

The feelings rose inside of her like bile and broke the surface as sobs. Her breaths came in gulps between the tears, her body shaking.

Suddenly, Spike's arms were around her, lifting her from the chair and brining her to the edge of the bed where he could hold her in his lap, stroking her hair as he whispered gentle words against the golden strands. His comfort both calmed and repulsed her at once, her body reacting to the closeness of her mate, while her mind railed at the horror of his touch bringing her any amount of peace.

"I'm crying because of you," Buffy told him finally as her tears slowed.

"I know," Spike admitted, his voice holding a tone of regret that Buffy didn't want to hear.

"Then you should know I don't want any comfort from you. It doesn't help."

"You're not crying as hard," Spike pointed out. "Besides, I can't feel that sort of pain in you, kitten, and not do anything to try to make it better." He gave her a smile that would've tugged at her heart had Buffy let it. Instead, she turned her eyes away from him, not wanting to look at his face. It was too expressive, too human, too much.

Spike tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear before brushing his hand down her cheek, wiping away the tears he found there. "It'll get better, pet. You're just adjusting, is all."

Buffy got off his lap them, pushing on his chest hard enough to make him struggle for a moment to remain upright. "No, it will not get better. Why can't you understand that? I'm not like you. I have a soul. I have feelings."

"Hey now, wait a minute," Spike snapped. "I've got feelings, too, Buffy. Don't think just because I don't have a sodding soul I don't care about anything. I can feel, same as you."

"No. No you can't. You're a monster, Spike. You don't feel anything at all."

Spike jumped up, grabbing her by the arms. He opened himself to her completely through the claim, making her gasp. "Tell me, what's this, hmm?" When Buffy didn't answer, he shook her. "Tell me!"

"An…anger," Buffy said, her voice cracking.

"Yeah, anger. My anger. I feel things, Buffy. Don't try to fool yourself into thinking otherwise," Spike replied, his voice a snarl.

Buffy's eyes narrowed then, her head rising. "That doesn't mean anything. It's just anger. You're incapable of feeling anything good. You can't love, you can't care about anyone or anything."

Spike tisked. "Doesn't work that way, ducks. Hate, love—both sides of the same coin. Can't have one without the other."

"You're wrong."

"You so sure about that?" Spike threw her on to the bed, kissing her hard until she stopped struggling and gave in. When she began moving beneath him, moaning into his mouth, Spike pushed himself up on his arms. "Do you hate me, Buffy?"

Her mouth fell open for a moment as she realized how she had reacted to him, then her expression turned cold. "Yes. I've never hated anyone more than I hate you, Spike."

Her response only made him give her a cocky grin. "And yet here you are, kissing me."

"This isn't love," Buffy snapped.

"No, but I'd wager it's moved a little past hate, too, what with that flush on your face and that delicious wetness I can smell in your panties right now."

"Ugh!" Buffy exclaimed, pushing him off of her and getting to her feet. She wiped her mouth roughly with the back of her hand. "You're sick," she spat at him.

Spike chuckled as he sat up. "Am I, luv? You're the one who gets off from the touch of a 'monster.' What does that say about you, hmm? You said last night that you could never get used to me feeding, yet there you were, writing under me like a bitch in heat. You like getting fucked by a killer—so who here's the one who's really sick?"

Buffy gasped, looking as if she'd been slapped. "No. No. You…you make me react like that. I don't want you!"

"You can say that as many times as you want—it's never gonna make it true."

Buffy couldn't take this anymore. She couldn't stand here and listen to what he was saying to her, couldn't look at that knowing smirk on his face. So she did the only thing she could do—she ran. Towards the door, towards the sunlight where she'd be safe from him.

She didn't make it. Buffy had barely gotten three feet away when the sharp bark of his voice stopped her in her tracks, the pull in the command too much for her to ignore. "Stop!"

Panic washed over as felt him come up behind her, pushing his body against her back. He caressed her through her clothes, and Buffy trembled, her knees threatening to buckle. Her mind rebelled, but her body… She felt like she was on fire, her skin itching in desperation.

This was it… Realization hit her hard and she wanted to scream, though her own body wouldn't allow it. He'd done what he'd warned her he would do—he'd taken her free will.

Spike leaned in, his mouth against her ear. "Take off your clothes for me, pet. Show me your gorgeous tits and that ripe, wet little cunt."

His words made her shiver, and not in the revulsion she wanted it to be. Her hands moved without her thoughts, quickly complying with his request. Soon, Spike was pulling her nude body against him, letting her feel his denim-clad erection. He nibbled at the marks he'd left on her neck, making the tingling she felt in them in them increase. "Lie down on the bed and spread your legs for me," he murmured against her skin. "Let me see it all."

Buffy walked shakily to the bed, complying with his request without hesitation. Spike stood and watched her, smirking as he did. She trembled as she looked at him through hooded eyelids. The fire between her legs was more than she could handle, her desperation overriding the last of her thoughts. Why wasn't he here, why wasn't he making her feel better?

"Touch yourself."

Buffy moaned in fevered desire as her hand went between her legs, her fingers glazing over her dripping pussy. She bucked her hips, her body screaming for release.

"More than that. Rub you clit, Buffy. Make yourself come."

She responded immediately to his command, finding the swollen nubbin and massaging it roughly. She arched against her own hand, vocalizing her pleasure as she did.

"Pinch your nipples with the other hand."

Buffy did, going between the right and the left. Spike watched, never moving towards her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Pinch them harder. I want to hear you scream."

She tweaked her left nipple cruelly, letting out a hoarse cry as she did. Her hips were moving frantically now, the only thought in her mind just how badly she needed to…

"Come."

Buffy wailed as pleasure crashed over her, her mind shutting down completely as she rode the waves of her orgasm. Finally, she slumped, her hands falling to her sides as she panted heavily.

Then, Spike pulled himself back from the claim again, letting her thoughts clear. She gasped in horror as she sat up, scrambling to pull the blankets around her. Spike chuckled, watching her with a smug expression.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "How dare you do that to me?"

"Oh, don't act so bloody self-righteous," Spike replied. "I know you liked it."

"I…I…you made me do that!" Buffy yelled.

Spike moved then, coming to the bedside and grabbing her hard around the arm. "You tried to run outside. I already told you not to do that, Buffy—and I told you what will happen if you continue to disobey me. From you behavior, I thought perhaps you didn't believe me when I told you I could take away your free will. Now you do."

Buffy trembled. Yes, she did believe him, and it terrified her. She looked down.

"Lesson learned then," Spike said. "I'm going to take a shower. If you're not still in that spot when I get back, you'll be very sorry."

Spike left Buffy alone then, the bathroom door shutting between them. She stared forward, her eyes going wide as she caught her own reflection in the mirror across from the bed. What she saw there disgusted her, but she kept her eyes ahead, unable to turn away.

*** *** ***

There's a few pretty dark chapters ahead, but I did warn you in the beginning, so don't be too surprised. It will get better eventually though, I promise.

Please remember to review. I'd love to hear your thoughts on how the fic's progressing.

Spike stood in the shower, his hands braced against the wall. It had been all he could manage to keep from touching Buffy himself, and then it had been even more difficult to walk away. But he'd had to. The moment he'd slid inside her, he would've lost all control, the feel of her always enough to push him over the edge.

He moved one hand from the wall to his aching cock, desperate for some release. His body screamed for his mate, but he'd have to make do with this now. Buffy would stop this insane denial of hers soon enough, give into the inevitable the way he had, and then he could have her anytime he wanted.

He came quickly with a strangled cry, the release enough to ease his physical tension, but not his mind. Buffy's anxiety was screaming at him through the claim, and Spike grimaced at the stab of guilt feeling that gave him. She was distraught, and it pained him.

She did, however, fully believe that he was capable of stripping her of her free will, and for that Spike was slightly grateful, even though the relief he felt there was tainted. He had hoped that threatening her with making her no more than his puppet would've been enough, but as she continued to try him, he knew he was going to have to take more drastic measures. He had thought quickly, taking a gamble, and it seemed to have paid off. Spike only hoped she didn't push him any further, didn't call him on his bluff and make him lose what little power he did have over her.

Since he had been the one to initiate the claim, Spike did have the upper hand in the relationship, being able to control Buffy physically though his mark—to a point. He could influence her movements for a short while, using what was essentially an altered version of the vampiric thrall. But as far as stripping Buffy of her free will, he could no more do that than he could style his hair in the mirror after he finished his shower. What was important is that she believed that he could.

The stunt he'd just pulled back in the bedroom had been a huge risk, but one he had been certain he would come out on top in taking, if Buffy reacted the way she normally did—which she had. She was still refusing to believe that anything she felt for him was coming from her naturally, that she felt anything except what he was apparently "making" her feel. He'd tried to explain to her otherwise, but she hadn't listened, so he'd decided instead to use her stubbornness to his advantage.

The desire he felt for her combined with his to increase its strength, sure, but were she to feel no desire for him at all, then it wouldn't matter how much lust was coming from his side. Buffy wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. Granted, his deeper understanding of the claim allowed him greater ease in filtering some of the effects, giving him the ability to push down a portion of the overwhelming emotions that surged between them, but it was still difficult and something else he couldn't hold on to for a long period of time.

He had stopped actually controlling her shortly after ordering her to stop going towards the door, relying instead on her to act under her own desire, but to place the blame for it on him in her on-going struggle to deny her own feelings. It seemed that she'd rather believe she had no free will than to accept that she wanted him, that his words and his touch had made her burn with need in mere moments.

She also didn't seem to realize just how much power she had over him, for which Spike was grateful. She could crumble him with just a look. And her touch…

While claims had once been the norm for vampires, they had fallen to the wayside in recent centuries, more modern vampires resenting the ties to someone else that a claim created. Taking a mate meant losing a degree of one's own freedom, and that was something newer vampires detested, no longer being the social creatures they had once been. Nests had once been formed for something other than protection and easier hunting, or at least Spike had been told.

While Angelus had spoken of claims with disgust, they had always intrigued Spike. He had longed for a connection that deep even in his human days, and that desire had strengthened with his turning, not weakened. He had wanted for quite some time to claim Drusilla, but her status as his sire had not allowed him to do so, since he wore her mark, not the other way around. He was subordinate to her; therefore, she would have to be the one to initiate the claim, and Spike had eventually accepted that this was something Drusilla would never do. He had given very little thought to claims since then, until Buffy Summers had slammed into his life, turning everything on its head.

Spike still wasn't sure why he'd made the move to claim Buffy, only that he had seemingly acted on instinct in doing so. Seeing her in the grasp of Angelus had set him off, but he feared now that there had been more to it than a need not to lose another woman to his grandsire. The connection he'd felt with Buffy had been instantaneous, something inside of her calling to him even when she'd stood with a crossbow pointed at him. He'd craved her before the claim and now…

She was consuming him. She was all passion and fire his mate, possessing a strength that seemed almost out of place in a seventeen-year-old girl. She shook him to the very core, making him feel in a short time things Drusilla hadn't in a century. It was as frightening as it was alluring.

But it was the frightening part that had him worried. Something had happened last night, and it was still there, like a piece of her inside of him, taking hold and making him face things he never should have to. He felt a niggling sense of guilt over what he'd done, not only for how he'd tricked her in the bedroom in order to make her submit, but also for what his feeding had done to her as well. Guilt wasn't something he should be feeling. It wasn't something he should be concerned about without a soul.

A thought entered Spike's mind then that he didn't even want to entertain. He knew that mating bonds between humans and vampires were rare, and while he'd believed it was simply because the circumstances needed to facilitate such a pairing were not ones that could easily be accomplished, he had heard rumors that claiming a human without turning them had been known to drive vampires insane. Since he'd never seen evidence of this, he'd written it off as an old wives' tale. However now that he was experiencing a vampire/human claim firsthand, his knowledge of them had certainly grown and he couldn't help but wonder…

A mutual mating claim like the one he'd formed with Buffy was the strongest form of demon bond, something that could not only never be broken, but also served to merge the mates together, shaping them into two halves of a whole. They experienced everything together, shared everything. Did that mean he would now share her…

No. Spike cut that thought short right there because it was utterly ridiculous. He wouldn't even think the vile word. What he was feeling probably wasn't really guilt anyway, just a desire to protect his mate mixed with her feelings about the whole thing. He had to make her accept who and what he was, and what that meant for her now, and then it would all go away. He didn't like being cruel to her, but it seemed to be the only way he could get anywhere with her, and he would do what he needed to make sure she understood her place. This was a transition period for both of them, and while he'd come to accept that it was Buffy and not Drusilla who would remain by his side now, she would come to accept that as a vampire, he would have to feed.

Spike turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and toweling off. He eyed his jeans where he'd wadded them on the counter and decided to slip them back on, knowing he needed a physical barrier between himself and Buffy. It had been over a day since he'd had her last, but he knew it wouldn't be a good idea to remedy that while she was still being so defiant. Being with her made him lose all control and he couldn't afford to do that when so much rested on her believing he could always be in control.

He was pleased to see when he left the bathroom that she'd stayed on the bed like he'd told her to, even if she did look miserable about it. Spike sat on the edge of the bed and turned towards her. "Are you hungry, pet? We can't go anywhere right now, but you could order something if you'd like. A pizza?"

Buffy glared at him. "Stop acting like you care," she said through gritted teeth.

"I care what happens to you, Buffy," Spike said with a sigh. "You're my mate, and it's my place to take care of you."

"No it isn't," Buffy replied. "And you don't care. All you want to do is hurt me."

"That isn't true," Spike insisted.

"Wait, sorry. Hurt me and fuck me. Although with you it's the same thing anyway," Buffy said, her expression cold.

Spike actually started a little at that before his face fell back into the cocky mask he wore. "Come on now, pet, don't try to lie to me like that. Those screams of yours—they're all from pleasure."

"Only in your sick mind."

Spike used what little self-control he had to hold back, stop himself from proving to her just how much in pleasure those screams were. He could tell that she wasn't as in control of herself as her expression and body language would suggest, and he couldn't slip any now, not when he had worked so hard to get this far with her. He had to wait until she gave in, until she realized there was no point in fighting and finally submitted to her mate. It would happen soon, Spike was sure.

So for now, he'd play her game, just see to it that he had the upper hand. He stretched his arms above his head, fighting the grin that threatened to spread across his face at the way her eyes darted to his bare chest as he did, her little pink tongue poking out to wet her lips. "Right then. Not a scream of pleasure in the bunch. Wonder what's on the telly." He got up and took the remote control from the top of the television before flopping back on the bed, resting against the headboard with his feet stretched out in front of him. "Oooh, haven't caught this show in awhile," he said, stopping on a channel.

Buffy's mouth fell open. He wasn't even going to try to seduce her? First he'd rather have her touch herself than do it himself and now he was completely ignoring the fact that she was in the bed and quite naked beneath the covers. Not that she wasn't grateful, she quickly added to herself. She didn't want to have sex with him anyway. She was just…insulted. Yes, that was it. Who did he think he was, ignoring her to watch… She frowned. "Is this a soap opera?"

"Passions," Spike replied without looking at her. "Bloody great show, it is."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. How dare he be more interested in crappy daytime television show than he was in her? Especially after all he'd put her through. With a sound of disgust, she got out of the bed, snatching her clothes off the floor and putting them on angrily.

Spike watched her from the corner of his eye, fighting back the giddy laughter that threatened to rise to the surface. This had gone even better than he could've imagined. He could feel her fuming through the claim, his decision to pass her over in order to watch television infuriating her and wounding her womanly pride. Yeah, sure, she didn't want him. And he was next in line for the papacy…

Buffy sat down in the chair, her face turned from him and her nose in the air was she pointedly ignored him. Spike smirked slightly as he settled in to catch up on Alistair Crane's latest dastardly plot.

Oh yeah, she'd give in to him in no time at all…

*** *** ***

Buffy watched Spike as he laced up his boots. The sun had just gone down, and she had no doubt in her mind as to what he was doing. He was going to feed, and she was going to have to live through it all over again. Just the thought of it made her want to scream, and she didn't know how she'd bear it anymore.

"Please, don't. I'll…I'll let you feed from me. However much you need, you can take it all, I don't care, just please…don't do this."

Spike looked up, the desperate look in her eyes making him wish he hadn't. The sight of her made his unbeating heart clench, and for a moment, he almost gave in to her demands. But he couldn't. He'd considered holding off from feeding for the night to give her a little reprieve, but he decided that it was best to just keep his habits regular so she could get accustomed to it. It was bound to get easier for both of them as soon as she accepted it, and the sooner that happened, the better.

"I won't be gone long, kitten," he said, his tone gentle. "Then we'll head out, go someplace else."

Buffy jumped up from her chair, going to him and kneeling in front of him. She pushed her hair out of the way as she tilted her neck, offering herself to him. "Here. Just take this. I'm…I'm young, and it's warm and fresh. It has to be better than eating anyone else around here. Please, Spike. I want you to. I want…" She paused, swallowing before she said the next words. "I want to feel your fangs inside me."

His demon threatened to burst forward at that, but he shook it off. Buffy was right when she said her blood would be better than any other he'd find tonight, but feeding from her wouldn't allow him to accomplish what he needed to accomplish. "Maybe later, baby," he said, running a cool finger down her exposed neck before standing up, grabbing his duster from where it was slung over the table. "Wait here for me."

Buffy rose to her feet. "You monster!" she screamed. "I hate you! I wish you were dust!"

Spike turned on her, his eyes cold. "Listen here, you bloody little bint. I'm going out to feed now, and you're going to sodding deal with it. I showed you earlier what I can do to you. Do you really want to push me?"

Buffy shrunk back from him. "No."

"Good. Now stay here and wait for me." Spike turned on his heel, slamming the motel door behind him.

Buffy paced the room as she felt Spike begin his hunt, the bloodlust coursing through him reverberating in her. She let out a choked sob when he found his prey, experiencing the kill through him. She gasped for breath, her heart seeming to twist in her chest. It was even worse this time than it had been before, her mind and body fully awake now, and she also possessed the clear knowledge she had from the start of exactly what she was experiencing. She opened her mouth to scream but it came out as a sob, every bit of her in anguish as she stood there and did nothing as another person died.

She couldn't take this. It was too much to handle, and she had to get away, had to find someplace where she could breathe again. If she could just find a place where this hold of his was no longer on her, she could think clearly again, she could find a way to survive.

Without any thoughts towards the consequences, only knowing she couldn't be there anymore, Buffy ran.

*** *** ***

A bit of a twist there? What did you think?

Buffy ran as fast as she could through the woods that lay behind the motel, heedless of anything she might find out there. Her only thought was to get away, to escape from Spike and what he was doing—what he wouldn't stop doing. She had to…

Suddenly, her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, her entire body now aching in a way she'd never known before. She felt herself slammed with a pain that was soul-deep, bringing tears to her eyes as it made her want to sob in anguish. Something inside of her was screaming that she turn around, go back to her mate. She needed him, needed to touch him, needed to feel him.

Buffy shook her head in a vain attempt to clear her mind and regain control of herself, crying out in desperation when she could not. He was doing something to her, he had to be, controlling her again. She had to fight it, had to get far enough away that he didn't have an influence on her anymore. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't let her, so she used every bit of strength she had remaining in her to crawl, struggling to make her way across the dirt.

She could feel Spike approaching, the tingles in her neck from his presence growing stronger by the second. She whimpered as she kept fighting, knowing it was a losing battle but not willing to give up all the same. Then he was there, snatching her up and holding her so her feet were dangling above the ground, his hands like vices around her biceps. The fury he was feeling was written clearly on his face as well as assaulting her through the claim, and inside of her, terror warred with the relief she felt from being back with her mate again.

"I told you to stay put!" Spike roared, throwing her back to the ground. Buffy cowered at his feet as his demon face fell into place and she found herself at the mercy of an enraged master vampire. "When are you going to learn to listen, girl? What am I going to have to do, beat you into bloody submission?"

Buffy gasped at that. He wouldn't…would he? "I…I couldn't take it…I felt you and…"

"Shut up!" Spike roared. "I've had just about enough of this from you." He snatched her up again by her arm, making his way back to the motel parking lot as he practically dragged her behind him, ignoring every time she tripped. He stopped when they reached his car, but he kept a bruising grip on her arm as he got his keys from his duster pocket and opened the DeSoto's trunk.

"What…what are you going to do to me?" Buffy asked, her fear rising to near panic levels. All she could feel from Spike through the claim was blinding anger, and she knew she had pushed him too far.

"I'm going to make sure you stay where you're told," Spike replied, pulling something from the trunk.

Buffy gasped when she saw what it was—rope. "Please, no. I'll…I'll stay and I'll be quiet, just don't…"

"Shut up!" Spike yelled at her again. "Another word from you, and I break your jaw."

Buffy closed her mouth tightly, though the occasional whimper still escaped as her body shook in fear. Spike handled her roughly as he bound her hands and feet together, pulling the ropes almost tight enough to cut off her circulation but not quite. When he was through, he lifted her up and threw her into the trunk, slamming it shut with her trapped inside. Her panic grew, and she struggled helplessly in her bonds, gasping for air. How long would he leave her in there? Would she suffocate? Hot tears ran down her cheeks, and she fought the urge to throw up.

She heard the engine start and felt the car begin to move a few moments later. Buffy struggled to calm herself, knowing that she would get nowhere by losing control. Spike had to let her out eventually—didn't he? Surely if he was going to kill her, this wouldn't be the way he'd do it.

And if this was what her life was to be from now on, would death even be so bad?

Resigning herself to whatever the night brought, Buffy stopped her struggling and lay still in the trunk.

*** *** ***

At some point, Buffy had managed to doze off, and she didn't know how much time passed before she felt the car come to a stop. The engine turned off and she waited until she heard the door open and close, followed by Spike's footsteps and the jingling of his keys. Silence fell again and Buffy wondered if maybe he planned to leave her out there for the day when she heard him coming back and the trunk opened.

Spike didn't look at her as he hauled her out, throwing her over his shoulder as he walked to what would be their motel room for the night. He unlocked the door and strode inside, opening the closet and throwing her in, not seeming to even notice when her head hit the wall. Without a word, he shut her in, and Buffy felt tears spring to her eyes.

Her skin was chaffed from the ropes, her arms and legs sore from being stuck in one position so long, and now her heard ached, too, from where it had connected with the wall. But even on top of all of that, she felt empty inside, Spike's coldness towards her hurting in a way no physical blow ever could.

It was overwhelming. She knew now she really couldn't get away from him. She wanted it to have been him that made her stop in the woods, but somehow she knew it wasn't. He'd given her no order either verbally or through the claim. It had been her who had stopped herself, her own body rebelling against her and refusing to put too much distance between her and her mate. Spike had told her before that they couldn't be apart, and now she knew it was true. She was bound to him.

Outside the closet, Spike lay on the bed, his mind in turmoil. Buffy was in pain both physically and emotionally, and it tore at him. He hated himself for what he'd done to her tonight, experiencing through her just how much his actions had wounded her. Still, he fought to hold back, telling himself over and over that he had to do this, that he had to make her submit to him and accept the way things were going to be for her from now on.

His resolve lasted only as long as it took for the sound of her tears to reach him. In an instant, he was on his feet, going to the closet and throwing open the door. Buffy looked up at him in fear, scooting back from him as best she could. "I'm sorry, Spike. Please…please don't hurt me. I can't anymore take anymore tonight, please…"

The sight of her now completely broke him. She was scared of him. He hadn't really wanted that, not like this anyway. He wanted her afraid to disobey him, but not for her to beg him not to hurt her anymore… Never before had such a sound been so displeasing to him. He lifted her up and she trembled, driving Spike to hold her close for a moment, whispering softly to her. "It's okay now, pet. I've got you. It's going to be okay."

She calmed slightly at his words, and Spike brought her over to the bed, untying her and dropping the ropes to the ground. He massaged her wrists, wincing at the dark red marks that showed where the ropes had been. Compelled to find a way to make it better, he leaned in, kissing the rope burns. Buffy sighed, her body relaxing now and her mind shutting down, allowing her a reprieve from the horror of the evening.

"Gonna make it all better now, pet," Spike promised her, guiding her to lie down on the bed before covering her small body with his own. He kissed her cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears before pulling up, looking into her eyes. "Do you want me, Buffy?"

She nodded, unable to speak. She did want him, god, she did. She'd tried to run and she couldn't—there was nothing she could do anymore. He had really and truly claimed her, conquered her and made her his own. She didn't have the strength left to fight it anymore.

He smiled at her admission, leaning down again to kiss her, belying a tenderness now with her that he'd never really had before. This time it wasn't about dominance between them. It was about submission.

Spike's hands caressed her body, soothing away her aches. She arched into his touch, begging him without words for more. He didn't tease her, didn't make her wait. Instead, he removed her clothes then his own, allowing them to touch skin to skin. Buffy sighed in contentment, running her hands across his back.

"This is how it can be between us, pet," Spike whispered before gently nipping her ear. "Don't you want this?"

"Yes," she said, further giving in to him. "I want this. I want…I want what you make me feel."

Spike smiled at her again, glad to know that this suffering tonight hadn't been for nothing. Buffy had finally realized where her place was with him, and things could be all right now. No more of this senseless fighting, constantly feeling like he was hitting a brick wall with her. "Tell me what you need from me right now, baby," he said, his voice a husky purr. "My hands, my mouth…whatever you want, it's yours."

"You," Buffy said. "I want you…in…" She blushed slightly, adverting her eyes as she whispered the last word. "Inside."

Spike's heart leapt, and for a second he could've sworn it was beating again. He hooked her legs around his hips before positioning himself at her entrance, hissing at the warmth that was already assaulting him. Never in his existence had he felt heat like Buffy's. He said she was fire, and here was his proof.

He waited until she turned and met his eyes before sliding all the way inside, the pair gasping in unison as he did. Buffy felt Spike reach towards her with the claim, tentatively this time, asking for the connection. She didn't refuse him, and the link between them grew, wrapping around them, biding them. Their bodies moved slowly, together, all the world falling away but the two mates, joined by a force as old as time itself.

Pleasure spiraled through the both of them, bringing them to new heights of ecstasy, bringing down all their barriers until neither could tell where one stopped and the other began. The cries that pierced the silence of the night blended together as well, sounding in harmony until they reached their shared peak, the pleasure flowing between them seemingly endless.

Buffy could still feel him there, on the edge of her consciousness as she floated back down to herself. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, and Spike pulled the covers up around them as he brought her to rest against him. She clung to him tightly, her heart thudding in her chest.

Spike had heard that sex could be like that between mates, though he hadn't ever been able to truly fathom it before then. He'd thought he had, but he'd been so far off, knowing now that he'd never have been capable of knowing what it was until experiencing it. It had been the most incredible thing he'd ever felt, and he was awestruck by how beautiful it had been.

He felt something damp hit his chest, and he looked down to see that Buffy was crying. "Kitten? Something wrong?"

"No," she said, shaking her head against him. "I just…that was…"

"I know. I don't have words for it either."

Buffy looked up, smiling almost shyly at him then. She felt peaceful here with him now, complete, and for once since she'd met him, her mind wasn't racing. Her limbs and eyelids felt heavy, and she snuggled closer to him, letting him hold her tightly in his arms. She pressed a soft kiss against his bare chest as her eyes closed, and murmured his name softly. "William…"

Her use of his given name touched him at the moment, and he smiled against her hair. He could spend eternity here in her arms and never tire of her for even a second. Her hair, her skin—she felt so soft against him. And her scent… It surrounded him, captivated him, making him breathe in deep and fill his useless lungs.

At some point during their lovemaking, the sun had risen over the horizon, and the day added its pull to the forces urging Spike towards sleep. Buffy's breathing had evened, letting him know that she was already gone, and he didn't resist following her. He whispered one last thing to her before he fell asleep fully, although he was already far gone enough to be unaware himself of what he had said.

I love you, Buffy…

*** *** ***

Periodically the muse really hits me for a story and allows me to write much faster than I normally do, and at the moment, that seems to be happening with this fic—hence the three postings in one week. I'm not sure how long it'll last, but I'm writing as much as I can while I'm feeling creative, and I hope you're enjoying it!

Please remember to review.

Buffy woke slowly, still curled in Spike's arms. He was smiling slightly in his sleep, his expression one of complete contentment. Her body had warmed his in the night, and she felt comfortable there with him, exactly where she wanted to be.

As she became more fully awake, the night came rushing back to her, every bit of it. Spike's feeding…her attempt to escape…the trunk of the DeSoto… And then…

Buffy flushed at the memory. She had felt the presence of the claim between them before, but this time had been different from all the other times. The lust and desire had been there, but there was…something else. Something stronger. Her realization that she couldn’t run away from him had made her succumb to him and this thing between them in a way she wouldn't before, as she realized she had no choice but to give in.

Spike had told her before that they couldn't be apart now, but she hadn't realized at the time just how literally he meant that. The claim had managed to somehow physically bind them to each other—how could she fight such a thing?

She couldn't. For as long as she lived, she'd have no choice but to stay by the side of a vampire, forcing herself to endure his every heinous act as they cut deep into her soul. Finally facing the reality of the situation, Buffy accepted her fate.

And it broke her.

She didn't want to think anymore. Last night she gave herself over wholly to the claim, and for a time, she had been able to push back the pain. Is that what she'd have to do from now on? Would she have to live for the moments when she could lose herself in her mate and then spend the rest of her time aching from what he would do when he wasn't with her?

Before now, Buffy had forced herself to focus on what Spike was, but she wasn't strong enough to anymore. She wasn't sure she was really strong at all. She had tried, she really had, but it was too much.

"Mornin', luv."

Buffy looked up at Spike as he spoke, meeting his eyes. "Good morning," she replied softly.

Spike frowned as he looked at her. "Something wrong?"

Buffy lied with a shake of her head. "No."

"You sure?" Spike reached up and ran his hand down her cheek. "You look so sad, pet."

"I'm fine, really," Buffy said, forcing a smile.

Spike knew she wasn't fine. Her sadness was clear through their bond, and he wanted to know what was causing it. Was she still upset about what he'd done to her the night before? He would've thought that her behavior towards him after he untied her would indicate she was willing to forgive him. "Buffy, I…"

"Shh," she said, putting her finger to his lips. "No talking now, okay? Can we just…can we just touch?"

Her eyes were wide, almost frightened, and her voice trembled. Spike swallowed, her pain cutting through him. "Will that make you feel better?" he asked.

Buffy's eyes moistened at his question. "Yes," she told him. "It will." And she knew it would. The only time she ever felt better at all was when she gave in to him, gave into what he could make her feel.

Spike rolled over on top of her, then began to kiss his way down her body, starting with a tender peck on her lips. He made his way to her apex, giving her one quick lap before going down her leg, ignoring her gasp. When he'd reached her foot he switched to the other leg, and again he merely grazed over her core, eliciting a moan of desperation from Buffy.

He perched up on his arms, looking down at her with a smirk. "Want something, pet?"

Buffy responded by pulling him down and pushing his head towards where she wanted him to be. Spike chuckled at her forwardness as he happily settled between her legs, ready to give her what she wanted.

Spike lost himself in the taste of her as Buffy lost herself in pleasure. She cried out until she was hoarse as he brought her to peak over and over again. This was what she needed to focus on, to hold on to. Maybe with this, she could dull the pain, push it from her mind until it no longer gripped her anymore.

Spike stayed there between her legs until his own need became urgent and he surged up, entering her with a powerful stroke before she even had time to register he'd moved. Buffy screamed in surprise and pleasure, wrapping her legs around his hips as Spike set a firm rhythm.

Buffy came two more times with him inside before Spike stiffened above her, shouting her name as he slammed his hips into hers and held, coming hard into her body. Panting, he collapsed on top of her, his head nestled against her breasts.

Buffy reached up with a shaky hand, her fingers running through his bleached curls. She needed to hold on to what she was feeling now, the pleasant numbness buzzing inside her. Her body was pleasantly sated, and her mind was too jumbled from the several orgasms she'd just experienced to form any sort of coherent thought.

After a few minutes, Spike looked up at her, relieved to see much of the sadness had faded from her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak to her when he was interrupted by a rumbling in her stomach.

Buffy blushed. "Sorry…I guess I'm hungry."

Spike sat up, a sudden look of horror on his face. "I didn't feed you yesterday! Buffy, I'm so sorry, pet. You haven't eaten in…I'm sorry."

Buffy shrugged. "I guess I was just a little tied up at the time when you normally give me dinner."

Spike winced. "Kitten, I…"

He looked…guilty, regretful, and that fell into the realm of what Buffy didn't want to think about right now. She didn't want the negatives right now, didn't want to have to handle them. "Could you just order me a pizza?"

"Yeah, of course," Spike replied, getting the phone book from under the bedside table. "What do you want on it?"

"Sausage, mushrooms, and green peppers," Buffy replied. "And diet Coke."

Spike eyed her protruding ribcage for a moment at her request for a diet drink, but figured it was probably just some bizarre girly thing and that the pizza would do enough towards putting some actual meat on her bones that a few less calories in her drink wouldn't matter anyway. "You got it, luv."

"I'm just going to go clean up a bit," Buffy said. She made a face. "You got me all sticky."

"Most of that's from you. You were creaming like crazy, baby," Spike replied, wagging his eyebrows.

"Ew. Perv," Buffy said, smacking his shoulder lightly. She got up from the bed, hearing Spike chuckle as he flipped open the phone book.

This was nice… She could do this, if it could only always be like this. She wondered if maybe she could just hold on to these sorts of moments when the other ones came and that would give her the strength she needed to hold on.

Buffy showered quickly, then went back into the bedroom, finding Spike reclining in the bed wearing only his jeans, flipping through the channels on the television. She picked up his discarded black t-shirt from the ground, slipping it on before climbing into bed with him.

Spike's eyes darted towards her, the sight of her in his shirt affecting him on several levels. Physically, seeing her in his clothes made him harden instantly, doing more for him than he was sure even the skimpiest of lingerie could do. But beyond that… It was an acknowledgement of their relationship and Spike knew that. She was wearing his clothes because she was his.

He reached his arm out and Buffy moved towards him, snuggling up next to his side. The scent of her shampoo was strong with her hair freshly washed, and Spike breathed in deep, smiling softly as he did. Her scent was fresh and clean, with the underlying essence that was completely Buffy, and it both calmed and excited him at once.

"Stop here," Buffy said, tapping his arm when he reached the channel that was the "free HBO" advertised by the sign outside the motel. "I like this movie."

Spike frowned at the television. "You're making me watch Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes," Buffy replied. "I like it. Leo's a hottie."

"Why on earth are women so convinced of that? Look at him. He's all…scrawny," Spike said, looking at the teen heartthrob in disgust.

"And what, you're not?" Buffy asked.

"Oi! I'm not scrawny! I'm…compactly muscled." Buffy snorted in response, and Spike gave her a dirty look. "I'm not watching this shite."

"You watch soap operas," Buffy said. "I think you can stomach a little Leonardo DiCaprio."

"I watch a soap opera. One. And it's a bloody messed up one at that." He clicked to the next channel.

"Hey!" Buffy cried out in protest. "I wanted to watch that."

Spike turned back to her, fully intending to tell her no, he was not going to put up with that drivel no matter what she said. But then he saw that she was pouting. Her perfect little bottom lip jutted out, begging him to take it into his own mouth. Her green eyes were wide and pleading, making the vampire's heart melt. "Fine," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "We'll watch the sodding movie."

Buffy smiled, curling up against his side again. Spike wrapped his arm around her, enjoying the warmth he felt being near her. Maybe having to watch Romeo and Juliet was worth it if he got this along with it…

He didn't want to get up when he heard a sharp knock at the door followed by a bellow of "Pizza!" but he knew Buffy needed to eat. He untangled himself from her arms regretfully and went to the door, shoving a wad of bills at the boy on the other side before grabbing the food and shutting the door in his face. "Thanks for nothing, asshole!" the boy yelled at the point Spike assumed was when he discovered the lack of tip, and Spike muttered under his breath that he should just be glad he didn't get on the menu, too.

Spike brought the pizza and diet Coke back over to the bed, handing them to Buffy. "Here, pet. Eat."

"Thanks," Buffy said, leaning over the pizza box as Spike sat back down to give him a quick kiss.

Spike liked this. A lot. She was acting like a mate should now, being warm and inviting to him physically and letting him care for her. He'd known she'd come around quickly, realizing there was no point in fighting what neither one of them could change. He was relieved that it hadn't taken any longer than it did. Her constant rebellion had been trying his patience.

Buffy sat with the open pizza box in her lap, a slice in one hand and her 20 oz. bottle of diet Coke in the other. Her eyes were on the television screen as she was completely engrossed in the movie, and Spike smiled. She was really adorable. He looked forward to more days like this, more pleasantly domestic moments with the woman he'd claimed as his own. It was almost as good as the sex in its way, and he didn't care if thinking that made him a bit of a poncy git. He was happy.

And watching Buffy, it looked like now maybe she could be happy, too.

*** *** ***

Buffy was able to make herself ignore the reality of her present situation until sunset. After she'd finished eating, Spike had taken her again, spending hours with her in the bed until all she knew was bliss.

Then the sun was down and he pulled away from her, making the darkness she'd spent the day hiding from come crashing back down to her.

"You're going to feed," she said softly as she watched him dress.

"I am." Spike paused, waiting for her reaction. He was hoping that the way she'd been towards him all day had meant she'd come to accept this, and he waited to see if he was right.

"There's nothing I can say to make you change your mind, is there?"

"No."

Buffy looked away, a single tear running down her cheek, but she said nothing. She couldn't stop him feeding and she couldn't get away. She'd just have to suffer through this and then tomorrow she could pretend again. His actual feeding would be quick, and then she could begin pushing it out, making the pain stop.

"Be dressed to go when I get back, all right, luv?" Spike asked, deciding not to push things too much now by giving her an order instead of asking her politely. She seemed to be accepting his feeding, but it was a tentative acceptance, he knew.

Buffy said nothing in response, but nodded, and Spike took that as a good sign. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "It'll be okay, Buffy. You'll see, pet."

He left her then, and Buffy shook as the door shut. She curled up on the bed, shutting her eyes tightly as she waited for the moment to come. Spike had already changed from the gentle lover he'd been when he'd left her to a predator, and she trembled uncontrollably, fear gripping her as she dreaded what was coming.

A sob burst from her when it finally did and the full horror of it all hit her again. She tried to focus on the pleasant part of the day instead, but that didn't make it better as she had hoped—it made it worse. She hated herself for being selfish enough to try to simply ignore what she had known would happen tonight, for allowing herself to experience pleasure when she had been fully aware that someone would soon die at the hands on the man giving it to her.

Her last attempt to find a reprieve from this had failed. She knew now without a doubt that she could never live with this. No matter what she did, she would never get away from the fact that Spike was killing. Ever.

She couldn't stop him.

She couldn't run.

It left her with only one option, and she took a deep breath as she stood, forcing herself to have one last moment of strength. This was her only option, and she wished she'd done it long before it had come to this point. On shaky legs she walked to the bathroom, a look of determination on her face.

Buffy caught her reflection in the mirror, and her expression changed for a moment. "I'm sorry, Mommy," she whispered before her face hardened again, and she lashed out, smashing the mirror with her fist. Then, with shaky fingers, she picked up a jagged piece of glass.

It was what she had to do…

*** *** ***

Yeah, I know, that's an evil cliffhanger, even from me. But I know you've got to have something to say about it (even if it's to tell me I'm a big meanie) so leave a review!

Spike wiped the blood from his latest kill off his mouth, frowning in dissatisfaction. He had felt Buffy through the claim as he'd fed, and while she had seemed to be dealing with things outwardly when he'd left her, it was clear that she had yet to accept it internally. Spike supposed that was to be expected. It had, after all, been less than a week, and the progress they had made was a good start. She would…

His thoughts stopped, his body reeling. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He reached out towards his mate, trying to discover what, and he stumbled backwards at what he felt.

"No…please, please, no…" He braced himself against the motel's front desk, knocking over the registration book as he did. She couldn't actually have…

She had.

Spike broke into a run, going back to their room as fast as his vampiric speed would allow. He burst in, going straight to the bathroom where he gasped at what he saw. Buffy was slumped against the wall, blood flowing freely from her slashed wrist, a jagged piece of glass laying in the outstretched palm of her other hand.

In an instant, Spike was beside her, pulling her into his arms. He could hear her heartbeat, albeit slow, and he felt a slight bit of relief, though he knew the situation was still dire. "Buffy!" he yelled, shaking her. "Buffy, please, open your eyes, luv. Come on, baby…"

Her eyes fluttered open slightly. "Sp…Spike?"

"Yeah, Stay with me, kitten."

"I'm cold, Spike," she said softly before her eyes closed again, her heartbeat growing even more faint.

"Buffy! No, don't go, please…" Spike begged, tears forming in his eyes. She'd done this because of him… Oh god, what had he done?

Desperate to save her, Spike brought her wrist to his mouth, lapping at the gashes until his saliva closed them, stopping the blood flow. He held on to her with one arm as he reached up and grabbed a hand towel from the rack, wrapping it tightly around her wrist to make sure the wound stayed shut.

Her breathing was shallow, her heartbeat still slow and Spike didn't know what to do. He was used to taking lives, not saving them. The thought crossed his mind to turn her then, to take the rest of her blood and give her his, but he wouldn't do that. He didn't want to lose her, but he wanted her like she was, warm and vibrant.

She'd said before that she had been healing quickly since he'd claimed her, and Spike let that give him a little hope. Maybe she could heal from this, too… He'd just…he'd have to wait. He'd have to watch over her, hold on to her until she came back to him.

Spike stood with Buffy in his arms, his body shaking. She'd said she was cold… He brought her into the bed, tucking her in under the covers. He stepped back, looking at her lying there, so pale she looked more like one of his kind than human.

He didn't have any warmth to give her, but he needed to hold her, needed the tangible proof that she wasn't gone. He took off his boots and his duster, then climbed in beside her, holding her tightly in his arms. His hand came up to gently stroke her hair, and he pressed his lips against her forehead as he begged her to wake up.

He'd do anything, if she'd just wake up…

*** *** ***

Buffy groaned as she felt herself pulled towards consciousness, every inch of her body aching. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking them when she couldn't see anything until she realized that was because the room was dark.

"Buffy? Oh thank god, you're awake."

Seconds after Spike spoke, his arms tightened around her, his embrace almost crushing. "You had me so scared. I thought…"

Buffy's head ached as she tried to remember what had happened. She heard Spike made a small noise that sounded suspiciously like he had been crying. Why was Spike…

And then she remembered. Spike must've found her before it was too late, stopped her from dying. He'd kept her from escaping again…

With a sob, she pushed him away. "Get away from me!" she cried out, though her voice was weak. "Let me go! Why can't you just let me go?!"

"Buffy! I…Buffy, please," Spike said, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…"

"Don't say that," Buffy snapped. "You can't be sorry. You don't care."

"I do. Pet, you have to believe me, I do. If I'd known you would…" Spike's voice trailed off, the image of finding her bleeding to death in the bathroom coming back to his mind. It had been the most terrifying moment of his existence as he realized exactly what this woman had come to mean to him and what his careless behavior had done to her. For the first time in his unlife, he'd hated himself.

"No, you…" Buffy stopped, bursting into tears. It was all too much and she couldn't argue anymore.

Spike pulled her back into his embrace, stroking her back. "It'll be okay, Buffy. Don't worry now, luv, it'll be okay. I…I won't hurt you anymore."

Buffy cried against his chest until her weariness became too much and she succumbed to sleep again.

Spike kept her close, relief flooding him now that he knew she was going to pull through. Still, he was smart enough to know that they weren't going to bounce back from this easily. He'd made a gross miscalculation thinking he could force Buffy into accepting his feeding habits, and now he was paying for that dearly.

He ran his hand down the side of her golden hair, promising her silently that he'd find a way to make it up to her.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke to a harsh knock on the door. She groaned, not wanting to wake, but Spike calmed her with a quick kiss on her cheek before he got up, going to see who it was. She watched him as he opened the door slowly, careful to stay out of any direct sunlight.

She tried to peer around him but couldn't, so she listened, hoping she could figure out who it was. She knew quickly when Spike asked, "Is there a problem, officer?"

"Ah, yes, sir, seems there's been a death on premises," the cop answered. "The motel clerk was found dead this morning."

Spike's gasp at the news would've been enough to convince Buffy he was shocked if she hadn't known better. As it was, it made her stomach turn. "Was he murdered?" Spike asked.

"We're, uh, not entirely sure. From the looks of things, it could've been a wild animal. The man's neck was torn—looked like it was from fangs. But we need to investigate something like this anyway, so we're asking all the people staying here if they saw anything suspicious last night."

"I'm sorry, I can't be of any help," Spike replied. "My wife and I were traveling through when she came down with some sort of bug, and I've stayed in here with her since the night before last." Spike lowered his voice. "She's still a bit under the weather, which is why I haven't invited you in. Poor girl needs her rest."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at Spike's back as he used her as an excuse. Granted, she wasn't exactly feeling well, but not for the reasons he was claiming. But she also knew it was better if the police officer did believe Spike's story. If he got wind of the fact that Spike was indeed the killer, then the officer would just be next on the menu.

"Oh, well then I won't take up any more of your time," the officer said. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about—like I said, it was probably a wild animal come in from the woods, so just keep your door shut tight and watch yourself at night, and I'm sure you and your wife will be fine. This is just routine."

"I understand. We'll be careful."

"Glad to hear it. Have a good day, sir. Hope your wife feels better soon."

"Thank you. You have a good day, too."

Spike shut the door and Buffy closed her eyes quickly, hoping she could convince him she was asleep. She really didn't want to have to talk to him right now.

"I know you're awake."

Damn… There went that plan. Buffy opened her eyes again with a sigh. "Spike, can we just…not."

"No, we can't," Spike replied, coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "What happened last night was…"

"Your fault," Buffy snapped. "It's what you drove me to."

Spike hung his head. "I know."

"You should've let me die."

He turned his face towards her. "I couldn't do that, Buffy. I couldn't lose you."

"Why, because I'm your 'mate?' Because I'm your personal little sex slave that you can use however you want? Couldn't lose that, could you?"

"No! That's not it at all!"

Buffy sat up, ignoring the extra pain it brought. "Then why, huh? It would've been better that way, Spike! I'd be free of you and you could go back to doing whatever you want! You could back to your precious dark princess."

"No I couldn't!" Spike jumped to his feet, pacing the room. "Don't you get it yet, Buffy? This claim, it's forever. You dying, that isn't going to fix anything! I lose you, and there's nothing left of me. I…I'd just waste away."

"So you were saving yourself then," Buffy sneered at him. "Makes sense now."

Spike stopped pacing, turning to face her. "No! It's because I love you, you stupid bint!"

They both froze at his outburst, staring at each other. Spike knew the words were true as soon as they left his mouth. He'd known it the night before, too, though he'd been in too much of a panic to really formulate the thought. He loved this woman. And not just because she was his mate…

"No," Buffy said, holding up her hand. "Don't you dare say that."

"But it's true," Spike admitted, his tone softening. "I lo…"

"No!" Buffy snapped. "You don't even know what love is."

"I bloody well do!" Spike said, yelling again.

"I…I can't take this," Buffy said, getting up from the bed, Without thinking, she went to the bathroom, stopping in the doorway as she saw the shattered glass and all the blood. Her stomach turned and before she could think she was retching on the floor.

Spike was behind her in an instant, holding her hair back until her stomach calmed. She leaned against him, shaking as she wiped her mouth. "I…" She stopped, crying once again.

"Shh…it's okay," Spike said, picking her up and carrying her back to the bed. He put her under the covers again. "Just rest here, kitten, and I'll clean all that up, yeah?"

Buffy nodded weakly, her will to fight gone. All that blood had come from her… The reality of what she'd tried to do the night before slammed into her hard, and she fought the urge to throw up again.

She listened to Spike in the bathroom as he cleaned up the blood and vomit. Her mind went to his declaration of love, and she surprised herself with a chuckle. He'd told her he loved her and called her a stupid bint in the space of a second. In a strange way, it summed him up rather nicely, seeing as one second he was treating her with cruelty and the next he was treating her like a treasure.

Still, the concept of him loving her was absolutely ridiculous. Vampires couldn't love. They were evil, soulless creatures that lived only to hurt others. Anything to the contrary was in direct contrast to everything she believed and she couldn't even begin to deal with something like that. So she wasn't going to. Vampires didn't love and he was lying. There, that was simple enough.

Only it wasn't. Buffy frowned. It was too much to process with her head being so fuzzy so she decided she'd just go back to sleep instead. That was much easier.

She stayed right on the cusp of sleep until Spike finished cleaning up in the bathroom and came back to the bed, slipping in behind her and pulling her into his arms. It was then that she drifted off.

*** *** ***

Spike woke her by shaking her gently. "Buffy? Luv?"

Buffy opened her eyes and stretched. "Hmm?"

"It's almost dark," Spike told her.

Buffy woke fully at that, her insides clenching. If it was almost dark, that meant he was going to feed again. Why was he telling her this? As if he wasn't already putting her through enough… "Go then," she snapped.

Spike frowned. "I'm not going without you."

Buffy swallowed hard. He was going to make her go with him when he fed? She couldn't take having to feel it, and now she was going to be forced to watch it, too? And he had the nerve to say he loved her! "I won't try to…do what I did last night," she told him, thinking that must be why he wanted her to come along. "You can leave me here."

"I'm glad to hear that, pet, but I'm still not leaving you. I can't—you know that. But if you're not feeling up to traveling, we can spend another day here. That's what I was trying to ask," Spike told her. "Are you ready to leave tonight, or do you need more rest?"

Oh. That's what he meant by taking her with him, Buffy realized in relief. "No, I'm good," she said, sitting up. "To be honest, I really just want to leave this particular room far, far behind me."

Spike gave her a little smile. "Yeah, me, too."

"So I'll get dressed and we'll go?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah." Spike kissed her forehead before standing. "Right then. Let's get out of this place."

*** *** ***

I'm so sorry I left it there for a week! I really didn't mean to, and I actually already had this chapter ready to post, but then my internet went out. The cable people couldn't get out to fix it until today, so I was cut off. Sorry! But here's the latest chapter, and I'll have the next one out next week.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, both to the people who have consistently reviewed since the beginning and all of you who came out of the woodwork to review for the first time. I had no idea so many people were reading this fic!

Buffy didn't argue when Spike stopped to get her dinner, instead accepting it and eating silently in the passenger's seat of his car. She was too worn down to rebel against him anymore. She'd tried every way there was to get out of this, and none of those ways had been successful. She couldn't push him away, she couldn't run, and apparently he wasn't going to let her die.

Maybe she'd go crazy soon and be too far gone to know what was going on. She could hold out hope for that.

She was still eating her burger when Spike stopped at a gas station, filling up the DeSoto's tank. Buffy frowned when came back to the car with a Styrofoam cooler and a bag of ice and put them in the backseat. What the hell was he planning now?

"Gotta make a stop before we get on the road tonight, pet," he said when he got back behind the wheel. "It won't take long."

Buffy almost asked what he needed to stop for, but then realized he was probably going to feed. He hadn't yet that day, and she could feel through the claim that he was hungry. She put what was left of her food into the bag and set it on the floorboard, staring forward as they pulled out of the gas station.

It wasn't long before he stopped again. Spike looked over at Buffy though she continued to stare ahead of her. "Wait here," he said.

Buffy didn't reply and Spike didn't say anything else, just got out of the car and shut the door behind him. Buffy sat alone in the dark, nervousness rising in her. She hated waiting for this, knowing the feel of him feeding was coming, but not knowing exactly when. he didn't even know where he'd taken her, the black paint over the windows isolating her from the world around her.

She needed to know. She knew she couldn't do anything to change what was happening, but she needed to at least know where he'd taken her this time. Tentatively, she opened the car door, peeking out. Her brow furrowed as she saw where they were. The hospital?

Why on earth had Spike come to the hospital? Did he think maybe she wouldn't be as upset by his feeding if he just picked off the people that were dying anyway?

She shut the door again, gripping the edge of the seat as she waited. He'd been gone for a while now, and it would probably be soon. She scrunched her eyes tight, waiting…

And waiting…

Nothing. Not a single twinge of what she felt whenever Spike fed. She frowned, wondering what he could be up to. It wasn't like he'd come to the hospital because he was in need of medical attention, and she doubted he'd bring her to one either, suicide attempt or not.

She jumped when she heard the door to the backseat open, then turned to see Spike opening the cooler and filling with things he was pulling from under his duster. She squinted to try to see what, but it was too dark for her to make it out. What could he need to keep on ice, body parts? Her nose scrunched at that.

Spike kept one of the objects in his hand as he came back to the front seat. He raised it to his mouth, his vampiric face sliding forward as he tore it open with his fangs, and Buffy realized what it was—blood. Bagged blood, to be specific. Relief flooded her as it became clear that he had no intentions of feeding tonight—or for the next few nights if the amount of blood he'd put in the cooler was any indication.

Still, she couldn't keep from saying something as she watched him suck out what was in the packet. "People need those for transfusions, you know."

Spike turned towards her, his yellow eyes flickering. "Oh you shut up."

Buffy giggled softly, and Spike realized she'd been teasing him. He mumbled something under his breath as he returned to his dinner, and Buffy reached out, resting her hand against his thigh. "Thank you."

"I've never been more afraid than I was last night when I came in and found you," Spike admitted softly.

His words surprised Buffy, and she pulled her hand away. His response to her suicide attempted wasn't at all the sort she would've expected. She would've thought he'd be angry, try to punish her then make sure she didn't have the chance to do it again. Or take away her free will completely like he kept threatening yet had still not done.

She was beginning to wonder if he even really could…

Instead, he'd panicked at the thought of losing her and was now switching to bagged blood for her. It wasn't how a vampire was supposed to behave at all. It was too…caring.

She filed that firmly away in the slot in her mind marked D for Denial. Vampires who cared and had feelings were not something she could deal with. Instead, she slumped back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spike opened the door and tossed out the now-empty blood packet before shutting the door back and driving out of the parking lot.

*** *** ***

"Buffy? Come on, luv, sun's almost up. Time to get out of the car and get inside for the day."

Buffy mumbled, turning away from Spike as he shook her shoulders lightly. She'd fallen asleep in the DeSoto at some point during the ride, still exhausted from everything she'd been through despite sleeping for most of the day.

"Just gotta wake up for a few minutes, Buffy, and then you can rest all you want, okay?"

Buffy blinked as she struggled to open her eyes. "Where are we?" she asked sleepily.

"Seattle," Spike said. "Or thereabouts anyway. Come on, kitten."

Buffy got out of the car, stumbling a little before stretching her cramped limbs. "I'm so sick of being in that car," she muttered.

"I know, princess," Spike replied. He put his arm around her, helping her walk. "I've already brought your things up to the room, so let's just go in, yeah?"

Buffy nodded, deciding that sounded like a good idea. She walked with Spike into the lobby, stopping a little when she saw where they were. Granted, it wasn't the Ritz or anything, but it was a far cry from the run-down motels where they'd been staying. "Hey, this place is sorta nice," Buffy said, looking around.

"I thought you could use a place a little more comfortable right now," Spike replied. "Maybe stay a couple days and rest?"

Buffy looked up at him. "Can we really?"

"Yeah, we can. Room's upstairs. Let's go."

Spike took her on the elevator, and Buffy kept her head nestled against his side, her eyes closing again until the doors opened with a ding. She stumbled a little walking again, and Spike lifted her up this time, carrying her down the hall and into their room, opening the door with a keycard.

He put her down on the large bed in the center of the room, and Buffy sighed, the mattress there so much more comfortable than the ones they'd been sleeping on. Spike took off her shoes then helped her take off the rest of her clothes before getting her under the covers. "Go back to sleep, princess," he said softly, kissing her forehead.

Buffy nodded her agreement, already following his words.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke up feeling decidedly more rested than she remembered being in some time, her limbs not stiff and aching for once. Spike was curled up behind her and she moved against him without thinking, settling into his embrace.

As she became more aware of her surroundings, she remembered Spike bringing her into the actually decent hotel the night before and was glad to see that that hadn't been a dream. And he'd also told her they could stay there for a little while, which made her want to jump up and down with glee. The past few days had taken their toll on her both physically and emotionally, and rest was exactly what she needed.

She turned in Spike's arms so she could face him, and watched him for a few moments while he slept. He'd told her last night in the car that he'd actually been afraid when he'd seen her in the bathroom. Had he meant he was just afraid because of the whole being mated thing, or was he actually afraid for her?

Buffy bit her bottom lip. So much of this claim confused her, the most confusing thing of all being her own feelings—as well as Spike's. She'd tried to convince herself that anything positive she felt for him or he felt for her was fabricated by the claim, but Spike insisted otherwise. So what was it? Could he honestly care so deeply for her that he'd go against his very nature to stop feeding from live humans?

Was taking her here and letting her rest his way of apologizing for his earlier treatment of her, of trying to start making it up to her?

She wanted to believe that as much as she didn't. It would be so nice if it was true, if she could just surrender herself to all of this and maybe find happiness in the arms of a man she had to admit was quite attractive. But on the other hand, accepting a vampire could behave like this because he actually cared for someone and not because he was hoping for some personal gain went completely against everything she'd been raised to believe. Almost from the time she was born, Buffy had been taught to see vampires as the quintessential representation of evil. With the Slayer as her mother, she'd been taught early to fear them, the rules of her childhood centering around keeping her from becoming the meal of a vampire wanting to get to her mother.

Never leave the house after dark by yourself.

Never invite anyone in, even someone you know.

Never trust a vampire—they'll always trick you.

It was that last rule that stuck with her the most now. She remembered when she'd learned it, as a girl of only three years old. She'd been shopping with her mother when they'd gotten separated, and Buffy had been terrified, wandering around in search of Joyce until she'd ended up lost in a passage of service corridors. There a man had stopped her, telling her he knew her mother and that he would bring her to her.

She'd discovered quickly that he was a vampire. Another rule her mother had set was to always carry a cross and to use it to test anyone that frightened her. Joyce had sewn one into the arm of Buffy's favorite toy—a stuffed pig she'd named Mr. Gordo—allowing the girl to press it against the vampire's skin, the burn that rose forth telling her what she needed to know.

But the vampire had merely smiled at her, telling her that yes, he was what she thought he was, but it was okay. He was a good vampire, and he was going to help her now because her mother was in trouble. Buffy had been reaching tentatively to take his hand when he'd exploded into dust, her mother standing behind him, stake in hand. She'd scooped Buffy up then, holding her desperately and making her promise to never ever trust a vampire, no matter what it said, They were skilled liars, able to lure almost anyone into their grasp. First and foremost, they were hunters, and a sweet façade could often be just what they needed to ensnare their prey.

Vampires could lie with a smile. They could offer you just what you wanted, making you feel safe until the very moment when they sunk their fangs into your neck. They cared only for themselves, and would never do anything that wasn't self-serving. Her mother had been so clear about that, drilled it into her head until Buffy knew it was the absolute truth, something that could never change.

Vampires couldn't be trusted. Spike was a vampire. Spike couldn't be trusted.

So what did he have to gain from all of this? What did he have to gain from choosing bagged blood over fresh?

Buffy racked her brain and couldn't think of a single thing. And the way he'd told her he was afraid last night… It had sounded so sincere, his words holding what could only be pain. And then there was what she felt through the claim. There was no dishonesty coming through, nothing that seemed to indicate that he was being anything but forthright in his feelings and actions towards her.

But then again, the claim had come from him, so couldn't it be lying to her, too?

Her brain said yes. Her heart screamed no.

It was like information overload trying to process it all, too much conflicting data to compute. So she just wouldn't, simple as that. Spike was evil and he didn't really care about her because he was a vampire and that was the way of things.

There, that was simple enough.

All it took was for Spike to open his eyes to un-simple it right up.

He looked at her as if he adored her, smiling softly as he woke. "You sleep all right last night, kitten?" he asked, his voice rumbly enough to make her shiver.

"Yeah, I did," she admitted. "This bed's comfy."

"Mmm…it is," Spike agreed. He pulled her closer, his lips descending, but stopping right before they touched hers. "Nice an' warm with you in it." He did kiss her then, with that toe-curling passion she'd come to associate with him.

Soon, he was rolling them over, his erection poking into her thigh and making it clear what he wanted. Buffy felt an immediate flood of moisture between her legs, but at the same time she didn't want to do this, not now. Things were still too jumbled for her, and even with him choosing bagged blood the night before, the effects of feeling him feed were still reverberating through her. She pushed against his chest. "I can't do this."

Spike pulled up immediately, and Buffy was surprised when he rolled off of her and didn't press the issue. She'd expected it to turn into a battle of wills and had feared he'd use the claim to make her change her mind, to give into what her body wanted instead of the rest of her. "Yeah, all right," he said instead, almost as if he'd expected that to be her response. He cleared his throat. "There's a pretty decent bathtub in there. Why don't you go soak for a bit, and I'll call room service to get you some breakfast, okay?"

It was a strange response from him, but the offer was too good of one for her to turn down. "All right. That sounds nice."

Spike kissed her forehead then let her slip from his arms. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will," she told him before getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom. She stopped at the door, turning towards him again, but he was sitting up now, his back to her, and Buffy said nothing, walking into the other room instead.

*** *** ***

To make up for that week between chapters following a big cliffhanger, I'm posting two chapters in a row. Hope you're still enjoying the fic!

Spike sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing. He'd had a feeling that Buffy was going to start rejecting him physically now, and he hadn't been at all surprised when she had that morning. He knew he could've gotten her to change her mind, worked her into a desperate need with his touch, but he also knew that in the long run, that would get him nowhere. Sure, there'd be the instant gratification, but Spike wanted more than that now.

He wanted her to feel for him what he felt for her.

He was certain beyond any doubt now that he had somehow managed to fall in love with Buffy. He wasn't quite sure how since the chit had gotten on his bloody nerves from day one, but he had. She could be quite endearing at times, even when she didn't mean to be.

Especially when she didn't mean to be…

Buffy was everything Drusilla was not. She was warm and strong, not at all a cold, cruel woman always asking to be coddled like Dru had been. He'd thought he'd been content with what he'd had before, happy to be a willing slave to his sire, bending to her every whim and reveling in her cruelty.

Now he realized he hadn't been, even long before Angelus had come and upset the balance of their relationship. Drusilla had made him feel so many things, but not once had she made him feel alive. Buffy could. With just a look, Buffy could make him completely forget his heart no longer beat.

And strangely enough, he was attracted to just how good she was. He frowned at that realization. He'd told her before that her not being evil was a problem for him, but when he actually thought about it, it wasn't. Granted, if she was all right with him killing it would make certain things easier, but he found the kindness she had in her strangely appealing. Maybe it was some wonky side effect of claiming a human.

But he'd screwed everything up. He wished he'd figured out in the beginning that he felt this way about her and then just not done things such as tie her up and put her in the trunk of his car. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in retrospect, maybe it wasn't so much. As he'd already come fully to terms with, Buffy was very much not Drusilla. That was how he dealt with Dru, his sire always up for a good round of punishment. Angelus had already broken her years ago anyway.

He'd been the one to break Buffy. That thought made him sick, and he wished more than anything that he could take it all back, every cruel thing he'd done to his mate. He should've known she'd never adjust to his feeding, he should've known that her good heart couldn't take it. She wasn't like him. She was pure, she was light. She'd never survive in the darkness. It would make her wither, kill everything he loved about her.

So what could he do? He certainly couldn't go into the light with her. He was a demon and he was evil. It was a simple fact, not something he could get around. Even with knowing that he couldn't because of what it would do to her, Spike wanted to feed, and he knew there was a possibility that trying not to would someday become too much and he would again, hurting Buffy in the process. He wasn't anymore cut out to be the mate of someone like her than she was to be the mate of someone like him.

So did that mean he regretted claiming her?

Not for an instant.

This wasn't going to be easy, Spike knew that much. Hell, it may not even be possible. But he was going to try, even if it took everything he had. In a very short time, Buffy had come to mean the world to him, and he was going to fix things, make things right with her. He didn't know how, but he'd find a way, and then they'd make it all work.

In the meantime, he wasn't going to push her. She felt something for him, he knew, despite the fact he'd been a right bastard since they'd met. It was tentative and he wasn't even sure how aware of it she was, but it was there, giving him that spark of hope that he could build something real with her. He knew he was going to have to act on something other than impulse with her, giving her the time she needed to come to grips with what they had instead of forcing it on her like he had been doing. Clearly, that hadn't worked.

If he had any doubts of that, all he had to do was call forth the all-too-crisp memory of her lying almost-lifeless on the bathroom floor, and those doubts were as good as gone.

He needed to start over, show her that he meant it when he said he loved her. She obviously wasn't going to just trust what the claim told her, so he was going to have to prove it to her with his actions. He'd started that last night, by getting the packets of blood for feeding and bringing her someplace where she could really be comfortable. Still, he needed to do something more, something big that would prove to her just what she meant to him. He just had no idea what.

So he'd do small for now. Take things slowly, one day at a time. He'd let her come to him, let her be the one to take the next step. That way, he'd know she was really accepting him, that she had finally come to grips with their relationship and that she wasn't going to run from it anymore.

Hopefully, he didn't explode before she did.

It was going to be a struggle, Spike knew. Moving at Buffy's pace was going to meant taking three steps forward and two steps back over and over again until he wanted to scream. But in the end, it would all be worth it. He'd finally have what he wanted more than anything in the world.

Someone to love for all eternity...

*** *** ***

Buffy felt decidedly better after her bath. Soaking in the warm water had felt delightful, easing out much of the tension her muscles had been storing. Afterwards, she'd dried her hair, grateful to actually get to style it a little again. And as an extra bonus, the hotel had provided big, fluffy robes, and she happily wrapped herself in one.

When she walked back into the bedroom, Spike was setting up her breakfast, and her eyes widened at how much food he'd ordered. "You can't possibly expect me to eat all that," she said.

"Eat as much as you can," Spike told her. "You're still too skinny."

"You think back to all this 'too skinny' stuff when I'm the size of an elephant," she said, wagging her finger at him.

Spike chuckled. "Just get over here and eat."

She walked over to the table and Spike pulled her chair out for her before pushing it in as well. He fixed her a plate piled high with breakfast foods and pushed it in front of her. "I'm gonna be like Dumbo, I'm telling you," she said, looking down at the meal.

Spike's eyebrow quirked. "You'll start flying with your ears?"

Buffy gave him a dirty look. "Ha, ha."

"Eat."

She picked up the fork and did as he said, finding herself surprisingly grateful to be eating something a little more real than what she had been over the past few days. Spike stood by the table for only a moment before announcing he was going to take a shower and leaving her alone.

Buffy ate more than she thought she would, but finally got her fill, happy just to finally have a full belly. She leaned back in the chair, smiling slightly,

Her eyes were drawn towards what appeared to be a balcony, though it was fully blocked by curtains that were pulled tight. She got up to inspect it, finding that there was indeed a sliding glass door that led out to a balcony, decorated with a couple of potted ferns. She glanced at the shut bathroom door, hearing the water still running.

Should she risk it? If she was just out on the balcony, she wouldn't really be leaving during the day, but would Spike see it that way? Maybe she could just duck out for a moment, get some fresh air, and then come back in before he left the bathroom. She'd only step out for a second…

Making up her mind, Buffy slid open the glass door and stepped on to the balcony, pulling the curtain shut behind her to make sure no sunlight got into the room. She walked out into the sun, wishing for a moment that she had more privacy so she could drop her robe and feel the warm rays on her skin. But even with the robe, it felt wonderful.

She glanced back towards the room. She should go back in, but she probably could take another minute. She had time.

"Buffy?"

Buffy froze. Dammit! He'd found her gone, and now he'd be mad, and she didn't know what he'd do to her. Would he just yell, or would he hurt her? Had she ruined everything and he was going to stop being nice like he had been this morning and make her stay in another horribly cramped motel? She hurried back into the room.

"I…I just wanted some air, and I thought it would be okay because I wasn't leaving the room, but it felt nice out there, and I'm sorry Spike, so please don't be mad at me I won't do it again, I'll stay right here where it's dark, and…"

"Whoa, kitten, slow down," Spike said, reaching out and putting a finger to her lips to stop her rambling. "You can go out on the balcony. It's all right. I asked for a room with one so you could. Figured it would be nice for you to get to spend a little time in the sun."

Buffy stared at him in surprise. That was…well, nice. Why did he keep doing these things? They were making her very confused.

"Go on back out there, luv." He smiled at her, though there was a sadness Buffy could see in his eyes. He ran his hand down her hair. "I bet you look beautiful in the sunlight."

As he said that, Buffy realized where that sadness was coming from—he couldn't be out there with her. Not only had he done something nice for her by getting the balcony, but he'd done something that would hurt him. She glanced back towards the balcony for a moment before looking at him again. "Maybe later," she said. "I think I got my sunlight quota while you were in the shower. Wanna watch television or something?"

Spike frowned. He had been able to tell when she'd been outside that she was happy out there, and he doubted she wanted to come in. So why wasn't she going back out, especially now that she knew he wasn't going to be angry with her for it? It didn't… Wait a minute… Was she staying inside because she didn't want him to feel bad that she could be out there and he couldn't? "You don't have to stay in because of me, Buffy," he told her. "I'll be all right in here."

"I'm not doing it for you," Buffy insisted quickly, though her tone made her sound like she'd been caught and was trying to her tracks. "I just…want to watch television. Look—it's all big."

Spike smiled to himself, Buffy's decision to stay in with him giving him a little more hope that they could work through their problems. "All right—just no more of that nancy boy Leo."

"What, are you jealous that I think someone else is cute?"

Spike snorted. "Hardly. I'm sexier than him any day."

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her, making a show of inspecting him. "Hmm…it's a close call…"

"Hey!" Spike yelled, clearly insulted. "What do you mean by that?"

Buffy giggled. "I'm just teasing you, silly boy. You know how sexy you are."

Spike preened at that. He did, it was just nice to hear her say it now and then… He took a step closer to her, his eyes darkening. Buffy sobered then, her body beginning to tremble slightly. Spike stopped mere inches away from her and ran his hand down the curves of her side. He leered at her, curving his tongue around his teeth.

Buffy felt her knees threaten to give out from under her. How could he always do this to her? Just a look and she was putty. She knew there were reasons not to want him, but they were so hard to remember when he looked at her like that. He leaned in, his lips almost touching hers, and she closed her eyes, anticipating his kiss.

It didn't come. Her eyes flew back open when Spike stepped away He walked over to the couch and flopped himself down. "So, telly then?"

Buffy gaped for a moment before her mouth slammed shut. What had that been all about? He'd seemed like he was about to take her right there on the floor in the middle of the room and then…nothing? It was just as well, she told herself. She didn't really want him anyway. "Yep, that's what I want," she said, her voice suddenly almost too chipper. "To watch television."

Spike kept his smile in check as he saw Buffy struggle to reign in her desire again. Despite the fact that he'd rather be inside her than not, this was strangely amusing, playing this game with her. And he knew the outcome would be well worth the wait…

Soon enough, she would be the one to come to him.

*** *** ***

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Spike was finding his resolution to let Buffy initiate their next sexual encounter to be very hard to keep. Emphasis on the hard.

She was curled up against his side, seemingly oblivious to just how damn good she smelled. He had no idea what she was watching on the television, his focus solely on her. Occasionally, she'd shift, rubbing her body against him, and it was all he could do to stifle his groans.

Spike took as much as he could, but he soon knew if he spent another second on that couch with Buffy that he was going to snap. He got up, saying nothing as he headed into the bathroom and shut the door.

Buffy watched him go with a confused frown. Had she done something he didn't like? He'd seemed fine, and then all of the sudden he was running off. It didn't make any sense. If anything, the claim had been indicating that he was really enjoying her presence, and Buffy had expected him to make a move on her, not leave.

She reached out tentatively towards him, surprised to find that he was definitely feeling desire, though he also seemed to be actively trying to shield it from her as much as the claim would allow. Why was he doing that? And furthermore, why had he gotten up and gone to the bathroom like he had? She reached out a little further and got her answer. Oh…

Why was he doing that? Usually he just went all caveman on her with the whole "want mate now" routine. Granted, she'd told him this morning that she didn't want to, but since when did he actually listen to her? He knew as well as she did that he could get her begging for it in minutes, so why take matters into his own hands, so to speak? Was he honestly respecting her wishes and giving her the space she wanted?

Because she did want it. Yep, she wanted space. Lots and lots of space…

But what if he wasn't just giving her space? What if he did want sex but he just didn't want her? Was he mad at her because she'd messed up his feeding habits? Or maybe he'd just already gotten his fill of her.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. Spike was supposed to want her, dammit. Even if she didn't want him. 'Cause she so didn't.

She felt Spike's orgasm course through his body, and Buffy shook right along with him. God, who was she kidding? She wanted him. She was a sick, sick puppy for wanting him, but she did.

Although really, it wasn't her fault that she wanted him. He was, after all, gorgeous and quite talented in bed. Honestly, what woman wouldn't want that? No, it was all his fault. He'd started it, what with how he'd taken her back in that warehouse and made her start craving him. And then the damn claim had just made it all worse.

And now he was just going to play with her, teasing her like he had before they'd gone to watch television, pretending he was going to kiss her and then not. That was just mean, making her start craving him and then doing…whatever the hell he was doing now.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, deciding she wasn't going to play. If he didn't want to have sex with her, well, fine. He could spend all day wanking off in the bathroom for all she cared, because that's all he was going to get.

Spike came out of the bathroom to find Buffy still in that same place he'd left, her expression the very definition of "put out," and he swallowed, knowing she'd again decided to let the pendulum of her mood swing very rapidly to "bad." "What's got your knickers all in a twist?" he asked, sitting down beside her on the couch.

"Like you don't know," Buffy huffed, scooting away from him.

Spike sighed heavily. She'd been fine before he left, so he assumed she must've been upset by what he'd done in the loo, the claim most likely making it apparent to her despite his best attempts to damper down the connection. "Look, Buffy, I have to get relief somewhere, all right?"

Buffy rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "I really don't care what you do with yourself, Spike. It's better than you pawing at me all the time."

Spike's jaw clenched as he did his best to keep himself in check. He was supposed to be getting her to warm up to him, and that wouldn't happen if he was constantly fighting with him. "Good. Then we're both happy," he said, turning away from her and towards the television.

Buffy's eyes widened. That was it? Wasn't this supposed to be the part where he teased her about liking his so-called "pawing" and tried to coax her into a demonstration?

Not that she wanted him to or anything…

Spike folded his hands behind his head and stretched out his legs, looking every bit the part of satisfied male—satisfied without her! Well, Buffy would just see about that.

She waited a few moments before stretching her arms above her head, letting the small top she was wearing ride up to the bottom of her breasts. She turned her body from side to side as if she were working out kinks, knowing it gave an enticing view.

Sure enough, Spike watched her from the corner of his eye, trying in vain to mask his interest. Buffy smiled internally. She'd show him easily enough.

Buffy fought back a smirk before faking a wince, being sure to make it look as authentic as possible. She then turned to Spike, her eyes innocent. "I have this horrible knot in my shoulder that I just can't seem to get rid of," she said. "Do you think maybe you could do me a big favor and rub it for me?"

Spike swallowed quickly before smiling at her. So the little chit wanted to play, did she? He was just fine with that—especially since he was certain he could keep the upper hand. This was a game he knew he had much more experience with than she did. "Sure, pet. Be happy to." He reached over, picking her up off the couch by her waist and depositing her in his lap.

Buffy squeaked, his move unexpected. "What are you doing?"

"Rubbing your shoulder like you asked me to, sweetheart."

"But…but I'm in your lap," Buffy said, pointing out the very obvious. She hadn't counted on this. It was much easier to be the one doing the teasing when she wasn't seated directly over his already-forming erection. Something about the feel of that particular bulge did all sorts of wonky things to her brain.

"It's easier for me to get to your shoulder this way," Spike said.

Buffy's mind began to race. Every bit of him felt so hard beneath her and she was beginning to think maybe she'd made a miscalculation. She needed to turn things back around in her favor quickly before she lost her control. "Okay," she replied. "It's just right…here." She punctuated her words by tilting her neck, exposing the pale column to the vampire seated beneath her.

She smiled slyly when she felt his cock jerk against her backside.

Spike licked his lips as his eyes zeroed in on her neck. She ran her fingers down it, highlighting the pulsing of her jugular. "Spike…" she whined when he didn't do anything for a moment. "Why aren't you rubbing it?"

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, conjuring up an image of Queen Elizabeth in nothing but her crown. Shuddering at that thought, he opened his eyes again, his hands coming up to Buffy's shoulders. He began to knead the muscles, noticing they were indeed tight even if he knew as well as she did that all of this was a ruse specifically designed to torment him.

Buffy couldn't hold back her groan as Spike began to massage her neck and shoulders. The man certainly knew what he was doing. He leaned down, his mouth closed to her ear as he whispered, "Does that feel good, kitten?"

She didn't have to fake her pleasure-filled response. "Yes…god Spike, that feels wonderful." She arched back against him, her bottom rubbing against his denim-encased cock as she did.

Spike gritted his teeth, his erection springing back to life. Buffy was moaning and writhing in his lap, the unmistakable scent of her arousal drifting up to him. Spike fought to keep himself in check, even as he wanted desperately to throw her down and take her there on the couch.

"Mmm…Spike…harder."

That did it. Spike picked Buffy up, dumping her from his lap to the couch.

And then turned and walked away, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Buffy's mouth fell open. He'd had her writhing in his lap, putty in his very talented hands, and he'd chosen to go do that again? What the hell was wrong with him? Clearly he was still attracted to her if he could get that turned on just by her wriggling around against him.

But what if it wasn't her at all? What if he was just getting turned on because he was male and that's what they did, but he found the actual idea of sex with her repulsive now?

Buffy sat up, straightening out her clothes. What exactly did he think was wrong with her? If anything, she was too good for him!

Curiosity creeped over her, and Buffy reached out with the claim, her body tingling as she connected with Spike as he relieved himself. His mind was a haze of desire, his focus acute, one thought dominating everything else—the need for release.

Buffy's hand trembled as it crept down her body, going to her jeans and snapping open the buttons. She pushed her hand down below her waist band, her fingers going immediately to her clit. Her own juices eased her movements as she rubbed herself hard, unknowingly in time with Spike's strokes behind the closed bathroom door.

Even physically separated, they managed to come together.

Buffy laid against the pillows of the couch, panting heavily, her face flushed. Her hand trembled as she pulled it back out from her jeans and refastened them. She couldn't believe she'd actually just done that. She frowned, smoothing back her hair. It was all his fault…again.

She turned her attention back to the television, deciding firmly to ignore him whenever he came back out.

Anything else would just bring her trouble.

*** *** ***

Spike leaned against the bathroom wall, panting hard. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Buffy was his mate, and his demon was screaming for him to take what was his, to make her submit to his touch. The demon didn't care what Buffy thought of the man, only that she bring him the pleasure he craved.

But that wasn't enough for Spike. Having a woman who desired him but didn't love him wasn't what he wanted. It had been hard enough going through that for a century with Drusilla, and already he had a feeling that with Buffy, it would be even more devastating.

He had been so close to giving in back on the couch. She'd been clearing flirting with him, and it had been obvious that she wouldn't tell him no. But it wasn't good enough. He'd had sex with Buffy in that sort of situation enough to know that it wouldn't be too long afterwards before she started to pull away. Her flirting had been a game to her he could tell, though he still wasn't sure of the reasons behind her playing it. Her logic really astounded him sometimes, and he had stopped trying to second guess her. Doing otherwise only led to headaches.

He needed to know that without a doubt, she wanted him. He'd thought at first that if he just took her enough that eventually she'd realize that it was more beneficial for her just to admit how much she enjoyed the sex and be willing to be open about wanting him. But no, that made sense, and apparently his Buffy was very opposed to such a thing.

He knew this was really all his own fault. He had miscalculated to begin with, not realizing just how stubborn Buffy could be. Maybe if he'd known she was Joyce's daughter from the beginning…That woman had been one of the most stubborn people he'd ever known.

Although he supposed you didn't live to be a twenty-seven year old Slayer being anything but…

Spike took a deep breath, trying to clear his head before he went back out and faced Buffy again. He couldn't keep losing it the way he had been. He needed to be coaxing her to give in, not running off to have a wank like a schoolboy every time she rubbed her body against him.

She had to be getting close. He'd felt her connecting with him a moment ago and knew she'd been doing the exact same thing he had been—with the same results. She was clearly as worked up as he was, and it was only a matter of time until she'd had enough of denying her body and surrendered to him.

Right?

Spike sure hoped it was, or he was certain he'd explode. Literally.

Taking one more deep breath to compose himself, Spike walked out of the bathroom and rejoined Buffy in the couch. Neither of them said a word, taking opposite ends of the sofa and focusing their eyes on the television though neither of them had their mind on the program.

*** *** ***

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Neither Buffy nor Spike said much of anything over the next few hours, doing their best to focus on anything besides each other.

It wasn't easy. Nothing on the television could hold their interest more than the thought of what they could be doing together did, the knowledge of how good it would feel if they gave in to the desire crackling between them coloring their every thought.

By the time the sun went down, Spike felt as if he were going to go insane. His every nerve was on end, his body thrumming. He'd already had to return to the bathroom one more time, and he wasn't sure he could keep from doing it yet again. Buffy didn't have to do anything to inflame him—her scent alone was enough to drive him wild.

And now the night was calling to him as well, screaming at him to be the hunter that he was. He wanted to slip out into the shadows, find his prey, feed until he'd had his full, and then come back to fuck his mate.

Instead, he was stuck inside, watching inane television geared towards American teenagers. Just bloody wonderful…

His fangs itched to slide down from his gums, to sink themselves into a human neck. He could hear the steady thump of Buffy's heartbeat, and the sound made his desire all the more unbearable, making his hunger rise inside of him until it was all he could do to keep from storming out of the room and grabbing the first warm body he found.

But he couldn't. Buffy couldn't handle his feeding, and he didn't want to hurt her even more than he wanted to feed. Taking a mate was accepting a sacred responsibility, agreeing to place the well-being of someone else above your own. Other vampires may shirk that sort of commitment, but Spike had always been too much of a man for that. If his feeding was so difficult for Buffy to bear that she'd kill herself to escape it, then it wasn't something he could do anymore.

But cor, it wasn't easy. Instinct and one hundred and eighteen years worth of habit were neither an easy thing to do away with.

With a growl of frustration, he got up from the couch, striding over to the hotel room's small kitchen area. He grabbed a bag of blood from the mini-fridge, then slammed the fridge door shut before he ripped the packet open with his teeth and dumped it into a mug. He heated the blood in the microwave and then drank it down in one gulp, trying his best to appease the raging hunger inside of him.

It wasn't enough, and Spike fought the urge to throw the mug against the wall. What was coursing through him now was more than the physically need for nourishment. His body was coiled tightly with tension, and he needed a release desperately.

He turned towards Buffy, his eyes flickering yellow as he gazed upon her. Her skin was flushed, making it quite clear to him that the desire he was feeling was not his alone. She was trying not to look at him, her body straining as she forced her focus ahead of her and not on her aroused mate. Her every muscle was taut, and while her trembling was almost imperceptible, it was there.

Spike could see her blood pumping beneath the surface of her soft skin, and he knew that while he could not fully feed from her, just a taste of her sweet, ruby elixir would do much to sate his hunger. It had been four days since he'd had his fangs inside of his mate and two since he'd filled her with his cock, and the demon had had enough waiting.

Buffy made a tiny sound then, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, and it was his undoing. Spike crossed the room to get to her so quickly he wasn't sure if his feet touched the ground, and hauled her up from the couch, gripping her shoulders tightly as he kissed her and growled hungrily into her mouth.

Buffy's eyes widened in surprise for only a moment before she returned his embrace and wrapped her arms around him, one hand splayed across his back as the other tangled in the soft, bleached hairs that curled at the nape of his neck.

Suddenly, Spike snapped back to himself, realizing what he was doing—and how he'd vowed that he wouldn't. This was what he'd been fighting all day to avoid, taking Buffy before she came to him first. He had been down this path with her already, and knew all too well where it led—a place he was sick of waking up to find himself. With a growl, he threw her back to the couch, marched into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.

Buffy sat frozen in shock. What in the world had just happened? Spike had seemed ready to do what they'd been skating around all day and then he'd had the nerve to abandon her again and lock himself in the bathroom! Well, she'd had enough of this. She got up in a huff and stormed across the room, banging hard on the bathroom door.

"Spike! Come out here this instant!"

Behind the door, Spike growled, Buffy's bossy tone doing nothing to calm his raging erection. He rolled his eyes skyward and cursed silently before yelling back, "Go away, Buffy!"

"No!" Buffy replied. "You…you can't do what you're doing in there! I…I won't let you!"

Spike flung the door open and glared at her. "You won't let me? Well then what will you let me do, hmm? Would you rather I find some release with you?" Spike prayed she said yes…

However, as was his luck, she didn't. Instead, she replied with a haughty toss of her golden blonde hair. "No, I don't. I don't want you."

They were both well aware that her words were a lie, but that knowledge wasn't enough for Spike. He needed her to be willing to give up this pointless charade of hers once and for all. "Then what the hell is your problem?" he asked.

He expected her to yell. Instead, she said softly, "That you don't want me."

Not want her? Not want her? Spike threw his head back and laughed at the very notion. His desire for the tiny blonde woman standing in front of him now consumed every fiber of his being. Not want her…

Apparently, she misinterpreted the meaning behind his laugh, because she stuck her bottom lip out and pouted. Spike's eyes zeroed in on the moist protrusion of sweet Buffy-flesh, and he shivered. Like he wasn't already hard enough without her doing that… "Oh, kitten," he said, his voice dropping to a low register that made Buffy's skin tingle. "I want you. Very, very much."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Then why all the quality time with Rosy Palms and her five friends, huh?"

Spike quirked his eyebrow. Was she honestly daft enough to think that he'd been wanking off because he'd rather do that than bury himself in her hot, tight quim? What was it with him and insane women anyway? He decided to keep playing her game a little longer, see where it took them. "Because you don't want me," he replied.

"Yes I do!"

Spike could tell that Buffy didn't realize what she was saying until the words were out of her mouth from the way her eyes widened almost comically a split-second later. But he didn't care about that. She'd said them, and that was good enough for him. He pounced on her with a roar, tackling her down to the carpeted floor. Buffy's yelp of surprise was cut off by his demanding mouth as he kissed her until she was almost breathless.

When she was panting and writhing beneath him, Spike pulled up, his eyes gold as he stared down at her, daring her to look away. "Tell me you want me."

Buffy stared defiantly back. "No."

Spike snarled. "Say it."

"Never."

Spike roared in response, his powerful hands reaching down to tear her jeans from her body, making Buffy gasp in surprise. He moved his head down then, latching his mouth on to her clit and sucking hard. Buffy keened in pleasure, and her fingernails tore at the carpet as she thrust her hips against his talented mouth.

When he could tell she was at the edge of her peak, Spike pulled away, getting to his feet and leaving Buffy on the ground. He turned from her and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door again.

Buffy didn't stop to think as she jumped up and ran into the bathroom after him. She flung herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips as he caught her. Spike turned and pushed her against the wall, his eyes changing to blue again as he looked down at her flushed face. "Tell me you want me or I'll stop again."

Buffy trembled. "I don't want you."

Spike's body tensed, and Buffy could sense he was about to drop her before she spoke again.

"But I need you."

Spike paused at that, his head tilting slightly as he regarded her. Therein lay the crux of the thing, he realized. Beyond the need that he made rise inside of her, Buffy really didn't want him at all. She didn't like him and she certainly didn't love him. The only reason she was with him was because of the claim. Otherwise she would've taken off long ago—if he hadn't killed her. She was the daughter of a Slayer, raised by a Watcher. Vampires were only monsters to her, never something to love. He thought of every time she'd accused him of not being able to feel and realized just how true she believed that to be.

Any hope Spike had had of Buffy loving him came crashing down. It didn't matter how long he waited. It didn't matter what he did for her. He would forever be a monster in her eyes.

He wasn't sure why he'd expected anything else. He should've known it over a century ago when Cecily Underwood had informed him that he was beneath her. No woman would ever love him the way he wanted. He was what he was—always the lover, never the beloved.

So he did what he'd always done before. He pushed his own wants aside, focusing instead on the girl who had captured his heart. He could give her something, could bring her some pleasure, although he knew now that he would probably never be able to give her even a fraction of the happiness she could give him with just a smile. He braced himself against the wall with one hand before undoing his jeans with the other, letting his cock out into his hand.

Buffy threw her head back in satisfaction as he slid inside, ignoring the way it smacked against the hard plaster of the bathroom wall. She gripped Spike's shoulders as he took her, gasping over and over again as he slid in and out, bringing her rapidly towards her peak.

Her orgasmic cry was one of heartfelt release, her body too long denied the touch of her mate. Spike pumped inside of her a few more times before he groaned, coming as well.

Almost as soon as it was over, he pulled out of her, refastening his jeans as he stepped back. Buffy frowned, fighting to stand on shaky legs. Something was wrong. Spike usually held her afterwards, allowing them to bask in the afterglow together.

This time, however, he simply walked away, and Buffy fought back the tears that threatened to spring to her eyes. She realized now that Spike hadn't reached out through the claim either. She'd felt his presence as they'd had sex, but it wasn't the sort of bond that usually formed during the act. Instead he'd…held back.

Buffy didn't like that at all. It made everything seem very wrong somehow, almost dirty. The last time they'd been together had been so beautiful, going far beyond the joining of two bodies. But this…this had been a quick, wordless fuck against the bathroom wall.

She walked back into the bedroom to find Spike sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up at her, and there was a trace of something in his eyes Buffy didn't remember seeing there before. Was it—sadness? She searched for something to say, someway to make him stop looking like that. It made something inside of her twist in pain.

"Those were my only jeans."

Buffy winced at the words, so far from what she really wanted to say, though she wasn't really sure what that even was. Spike's jaw tensed, and Buffy could tell he was upset. "I'll buy you new ones tomorrow."

"Okay."

Awkward silence filled the room, and Buffy fiddled with the hem of her shirt. The room was chilly and she shivered a little, realizing that without the jeans, she didn't have a thing to cover up her legs with. "My legs are kinda cold," she said, meaning it as an observation more than anything else.

Spike didn't take it as such. He got to his feet, an anger that Buffy didn't understand kept barely in check as he snatched his duster up from where he'd draped it over a chair. "Fine. I'll go find you something now if that'll bloody make you happy." He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Buffy stood in shock for a moment before she went over to the bed, and got under the covers. Tears rose to the surface again, and this time, she didn't fight them.

*** *** ***

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Spike knew Buffy was crying, and it made his heart ache. He felt bad for storming out angrily and knew none of this was really Buffy's fault. It wasn't fair of him to be upset with her for not loving him. No one else ever had, so why should Buffy be any different?

He stopped at his car and leaned against the door as he fished a cigarette out of the pocket of his duster and lit it, taking a long drag and feeling the smoke fill his dead lungs. He almost wanted to be able to say he wished he'd never met her. He knew it would probably be better in a lot of ways if he was still with Dru—no matter how much of a fool she made out of him—and Buffy was free to find herself some nice human bloke. But he didn't wish that. Being with Buffy had shaken him to his very core, igniting him in ways he hadn't even known were possible, even after spending a century in the arms of a woman like Drusilla.

Spike knew that made him selfish, but he didn't care. He was a vampire, and vampires never apologized for what they wanted—and what he wanted was Buffy Summers. He craved her like he craved blood.

No. He craved her more than he craved blood. He'd given up feeding for her, given up the feel of indulging in a fresh, warm kill. All for her.

And she didn't love him.

Spike threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out under the toe of his boot before getting into the DeSoto to search for someplace where he could buy Buffy a new pair of jeans.

*** *** ***

Buffy was asleep when Spike got back to the hotel room, and he didn't wake her. Her face was still red from crying, and he hated knowing he was the cause of those tears.

He put the bags he'd brought up with him with her other things, then fixed himself a mug of blood and brought it out onto the balcony.

It was a nice night, clear in a city known for its rainy weather. He sipped his blood almost leisurely, for once barely even noticing the taste of it in his mouth. It was only dulling his hunger anyway, doing nothing to ease the restlessness he was feeling.

Spike wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting outside when he felt Buffy stirring. Soon, she was up, coming to stand at the edge of the balcony. Spike kept his gaze outwards, not turning to look at her.

"Are you going to come to bed?" Buffy asked him.

"I'm not tired," he replied curtly.

"We…we don't have to sleep."

Spike sighed heavily and turned towards her. Whatever he had been going to say died in his throat when he saw her. She stood in the moonlight, wrapped only in the white sheet from the bed, her tiny hand clasping it tightly at her bosom. Her golden hair fell around her shoulders and the dim light illuminated it like a halo. She was gorgeous, so beautiful it made his chest ache.

He set down the mug he'd still been clutching in his hand and made his way to Buffy. His hand went to the small of her back as he pulled her against him and leaned in to kiss her. She moaned into his mouth, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders, and let the sheet slip to the ground to pool around her feet.

Spike lifted her into his arms with a grunt and carried her back into the hotel room. Buffy kissed and licked his neck as he took her over to the bed. He lay her down gently against the pillows, stopping for a moment to look at her, her body bared to him and her hair fanned out around her head.

"You're so bloody beautiful, Buffy," he said, his voice holding a tone of reverence. "A goddess…"

Buffy blushed prettily at his words, and Spike couldn't hold back from touching her any longer. He stripped off his clothes and joined her on the bed, pressing his body on top of hers.

"Spike…" Buffy gasped, immediately wrapping him in her arms. He felt surrounded, her heat and her scent capturing him, letting him get lost in sensation. He gave himself over completely to the sensual, pushing thoughts of unrequited love from his mind as he entered her, shivering at how tightly she fit him, how warm she felt around him.

He set a hard, steady rhythm, hitting the spot deep inside of Buffy that made her cry out in pleasure with every thrust. His hard abs ground against her clit, and she spasmed beneath him, her hands clawing desperately at his back.

It wasn't long until she was wailing her release, her body tense beneath him. Spike didn't falter for a second, his pumping steady, and Buffy gasped as her orgasm was dragged out, pleasure continuing to shake her until she felt she couldn't take it anymore.

And still, he didn't stop, didn't slow. She screamed until she was hoarse, until she was sure she couldn't experience any more pleasure than that which was already shaking her.

Then Spike's face changed, the man above her visibly a demon once again, and he descended, his fangs slicing into the flesh of her neck. Buffy's eyes went wide as she bucked off the bed, the pleasure that coursed thought her so white-hot she thought she might die from it. Spike growled deep in his chest as he came inside of her, and the vibrations traveled through both his cock and his fangs. For a moment, Buffy felt as if she'd left her body, as if she was floating there, hovering above the bed.

She came back to herself as Spike licked the wounds on her neck to close his mark again. He nuzzled the spot with his face, and Buffy reached up with a trembling hand to stroke the back of his head, loving the silky feel of his soft hair.

Eventually, Spike looked up, a drop of her blood still on the corner of his lips. Buffy wiped it off with her thumb, hesitating for a moment before she offered the digit to him and let Spike lick it clean.

His eyes closed in an expression of ecstasy as his tongue rolled around her thumb to taste both her blood and her skin.

"Spike?"

His eyes opened again at her tentative address and he released her thumb from his mouth. "Yes, kitten?"

"What…what does it taste like to you?"

Spike's brow wrinkled. "Blood, you mean."

"Yeah."

He frowned as he tried to formulate an answer. What could he say? It was like trying to describe a rainbow to a blind person, a symphony to a deaf one. "It tastes like…it tastes like life."

Buffy frowned, thinking for a moment. "So it's like…better than chocolate?"

Spike stared for a second before he burst out laughing despite the serious expression on her face. "Just a little bit," he said with a teasing grin.

"Does mine…does it taste better than other people's?" she asked.

"Oh, baby, yours is the best," Spike said, unable to stop from licking his lips.

To his surprise, Buffy preened a bit at his answer, seeming to actually take it as the compliment he meant it to be. Then she looked down, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I…I kinda liked the taste of yours, too," she said softly. "The…the few times when I've bitten you, it…it hasn't been gross like I would've thought."

Spike's eyebrow rose. "That so?" Buffy nodded almost imperceptibly in response. "Well then, feel free to bite me anytime you want, baby. Gets me nice an' hard." He rubbed his cock against her, their conversation helping to make it erect again.

Buffy's eyes widened at the feel of him hard against her already. Her body was still reeling from their last round, and yet, the thought of taking him in again made a rush of moisture flow between her legs.

In a move that surprised them both, Buffy wrapped her legs around Spike's hips and flipped them over so she was straddling his thighs. Spike looked up at her, his eyes challenging her to act on this new position she'd put them in. Never one to back down, Buffy leaned in and gave his neck a long, slow lick.

Spike groaned loudly, his hips thrusting up to rub his cock against Buffy's backside. His response emboldened her further, and Buffy opened her mouth and sank her teeth into his neck, tearing the flesh even with her blunt teeth and allowing her to pull his blood into her mouth.

Spike cried out beneath her, his body trembling in a mix of pleasure and desire. She lapped at the wound she had made until the blood slowed before she began to travel down his body, stopping to nip at his flesh as she did, leaving a trail of teeth marks in her wake.

She stopped short when she reached his middle, her chin hitting his bobbing cock. She eyed it with trepidation, and she was not sure what she should do now. She wondered what it would taste like, and if she would enjoy the feel of it sliding in and out of her mouth as much as Spike seemed to enjoy pleasuring her with his tongue.

Still, it was something she'd never done before, and what if she wasn't any good at it? It seemed like it could be complicated, and could probably lead to badness if done incorrectly. And then what if she didn't like it? Would Spike expect her to keep doing it anyway just because she'd done it once?

Spike, for his part, was forcing himself to lie still, waiting to see what move Buffy would make. He was tempted to grab her head and move her where he wanted her to go, but he knew Buffy well enough to know that would not go over well.

Much to his relief, Buffy decided she might as well give it a try, and she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock before leaning in and giving the head an experimental lick. Spike couldn't hold back his groan as he fought for his hips to remain still, his hands clutching the bedspread tightly to keep him from tangling them in her hair.

Buffy decided the taste wasn't all that bad. A little salty, but not the worst thing she'd ever had in her mouth. She leaned in again and took a little in her mouth this time.

Spike used every bit of his willpower not to thrust into her warm mouth. He reminded himself over and over that his chances of ever getting another blowjob rested on him letting Buffy move at her own pace now, get acclimated to what she was doing. So he held back, hoping he didn't explode in the process.

Slowly, Buffy took more of him into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat and she gagged. Deciding to save learning to deep throat for another time, she wrapped her fingers around what she couldn't swallow and pumped her hand up and down in time with her mouth.

Buffy's cocksucking skills were far from the most expert Spike had known, but just the fact that it was her lips wrapped around him made that point moot. It meant so much to him that Buffy would be willing to do this for him, to pleasure him in a way that gave her little back. This was something she was doing for him, to please him. He groaned his encouragement, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he was indeed enjoying it.

His response emboldened Buffy, and she began to move faster, adding a little twist to her hand as she slid it up and down. Soon, her tongue came into play as well, and it massaged his cock inside of her mouth.

Spike held himself back, wanting this to last as long as possible. Buffy was obviously getting into what she was doing, taking to this like she had everything else they'd done.

Then she did something that sent him spiraling over the edge. She took as much of him as she could into her mouth and moaned around his cock.

Spike realized a second too late that he couldn't hold back any longer, and his shout of warning was swallowed by his cry of completion. Buffy's eyes widened as her mouth filled with his come, and she tried to swallow only to choke a bit as it hit the back of her throat.

She scooted back, her head hanging, and Spike kicked himself as he came down from his orgasm. He'd ruined it now. She was angry, and she wouldn't do it again, he was sure. Bugger.

Only she didn't feel angry. He gauged her mood through the claim and found that she wasn't angry at all—just embarrassed. "Kitten?" he said softly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, still not looking at him.

He frowned at that. "Sorry for what, baby?"

"I…I didn't do a good job," Buffy replied. "I couldn't…y'know, swallow…"

"Oh, pet, come here," Spike said, reaching his arms out to her. Buffy moved into them immediately and rested her head on his chest, though she still avoided his eyes. "That was my fault, luv. I should've warned you, let you know it was coming. It just felt too good, is all. Made it so I couldn't think properly."

Buffy ventured a glance up. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Spike replied, kissing her forehead. "Thank you."

"So I did okay?"

"You were wonderful," Spike assured her. "As a matter of fact, I think I should show my appreciation." He wagged his eyebrows at her.

"You do, huh?"

"I sure do," he replied, his smile changing to a leer before he slid down her body and took his place between her legs.

It was already early morning before they finally collapsed in each other's arms, a tangle of limbs as they slept entwined.

*** *** ***

I know this has been a bit of a ping pong match with the angsty chapters and the not so angsty chapters, but I hope I'm not frustrating you all too much. I do plan to get them somewhere eventually, I promise, they're just taking baby steps for the time being.

Please remember to review!

For once, Buffy didn't rush to get out of Spike's arms as soon as she woke. Instead, she stayed where she was, her head against his chest and her leg wrapped around his. His hand was splayed against her hip, his head turned slightly so the tip of his chin rested in her hair.

Buffy had been worried the night before when he'd seemed so cold in the bathroom, but then when he'd joined her in the bed, he'd gone back to warm. Figuratively speaking anyway… Part of her was insisting that she shouldn't care so much, but she rationalized it away and argued against her own inner voice that she only cared because things were so much easier for her when Spike wasn't angry and violent.

It wasn't because seeing his eyes lack the emotion she'd grown so used to made her hurt. That idea was just ridiculous.

"Mmm…mornin', kitten," Spike rumbled against her as he turned more towards the warmth of her body.

"It's afternoon," Buffy pointed out, looking at the clock on the bedside table across from her.

"'M a vamp. 'S mornin' t'me."

"Then what's night?"

"Afternoon."

Buffy giggled. "That's just silly."

"Doesn't matter. Gonna shag you no matter what time it is."

Buffy cried out in surprise as Spike suddenly rolled them over and entered her with one smooth stroke. "Always so wet for me, Buffy," Spike purred against her ear, starting a rhythm of slow, lazy thrusts.

Buffy panted beneath him, her small hands clutching his shoulders. She was relieved to find that Spike hadn't gone back to cutting himself off from her like he had in the bathroom. Warmth was pouring through the claim, and it made her hold on to him tighter as her words of encouragement came out in breathy moans.

It took a little bit for what Buffy was saying to pierce Spike's sleep-fogged brain, but when he did, his rhythm faltered for a beat and he almost stopped completely.

"Spike…please…need you…need it like this. Need you to hold me… Oh god Spike, I need you to love me…love me…"

She couldn't know what she was saying, the glazed look in her eyes telling Spike that she was caught up in a wave of desire. But for the moment he could let himself believe that she was at least accepting of his love, and his thrusts grew harder, more desperate.

Buffy was close, her body strung tight as Spike moved above her. Desperate for that last little push that would send her over the edge, Buffy grabbed the back of his head and roughly pushed him down to her neck.

Spike didn't need the invitation further explained. His fangs sliced into her neck, and Buffy immediately clamped around his cock, her shout of release cut short when she decided to take his neck into her mouth, to taste his blood as he did hers.

He came hard inside of her with the first feel of her teeth in his skin, but he didn't remove his fangs from her neck, and she continued to drink from him as he did from her. A bright light seemed to burst in front of him, and he tried to close his eyes to block it out only to have it still there, surrounding him. Every wall between them came tumbling down, the claim exposing them both to new heights as a current of pleasure flowed between them both, extending itself until it was too much and they broke apart.

Buffy gasped, her eyes wide. She felt different somehow, stronger. Spike's blood was coursing through her, pounding in her veins, and she panicked, struggling to push him off.

"Buffy?" Spike asked, blinking in confusion.

"Just…just get off me!" Buffy yelled. She pushed him with a strength she'd never felt before, and sent flying off the bed.

Spike lay on the ground, a look of shock on his face. "Wha…pet?"

"I…oh god…" Buffy snatched the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her before she ran out of the room and on to the balcony. The sunlight hit her and she collapsed to the ground, bringing her knees to her chin as she rocked back and forth.

Spike frowned in confusion as he pulled himself off the ground. Buffy's emotions were clear through the claim, and the overriding one was terror. He could tell it wasn't him she was afraid of, but what it actually was, he wasn't sure. He walked over to the balcony, making sure to stand well behind the curtain. "Buffy?"

"Leave me alone!" Buffy yelled.

"Sweetheart, tell me what's wrong? What's got you so spooked?"

Buffy didn't respond, and Spike growled low in frustration, He wished he could go out there and talk to her face to face, but that wasn't possible. "Kitten? Why don't you come back in the room and we can talk, yeah?"

"I can't. Gotta stay out here…have to stay in case…" She trailed off and Spike frowned, her mumbled response doing nothing to make anything clearer for him.

"Buffy, sweetheart, you need to tell me what's going on. You're upset, I know, but I can't do anything to help you unless you tell me what the problem is."

She said nothing, and Spike stood long moments in silence until he lost any hold he'd had on his patience. "Bugger this," he muttered as he stormed over to the bed and grabbed the comforter. He put it over himself and ran outside, ignoring Buffy's yell and the way the sun burned his hand as he snatched her up and brought her back into the hotel room.

She fought weakly against him, but Spike held her close as they sat on the floor beside the balcony. Finally, she gave up and collapsed into his arms and sobbing.

"I don't want to, Spike…" she said finally, her words hitching with her tears. "I don't…"

"You don't want to what, baby?" Spike asked.

She looked up then, her eyes wild. "I don't want to…to change."

Spike sucked in a breath as he realized what the problem was. "Into a vampire you mean."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah."

Spike cupped her face in his hands and wiped her tears off with his thumbs. "You won't, sweetheart. Don't you worry about that."

"But…I'm stronger. I know I am, Spike. I can feel that. And…and after what we just…what we just did, I could feel it…your blood. It's…it's in me. And you drank mine, too, and…"

"Shh…pet, it's okay," Spike said. "We've done that before and you're not a vampire."

Buffy shook her head. "But not like that. That was different. You know it was, Spike."

It was, he had to give her that, but it wasn't what she was afraid of. "Takes more than drinking each other's blood to turn you into a vampire, kitten. You gotta be near death, and you're not. Your heartbeat's steady and your cheeks are nice an' pink."

"But why am I stronger? When I pushed you, you went really far, Spike. And before, when we fought that one time, I was too strong then, too. And the healing—why am I healing like this?" Buffy's eyes were wide and desperate, as if she were waiting for him to hand her the answers she craved.

"I don't know," Spike said, hating the way his response made her face fall. "The best I can figure, though, is that it's something about the claim. I don't know a lot about vampire/human claims, but I do know that they link the human's lifeline to that of his or her mate, so it's possible that the claim's working to make you stronger and quicker to heal so you'll be more suited for that."

"Oh. That…" Buffy stopped and her eyes grew wide again. "Wait, run that back—to the part about the linking lifelines."

Spike cleared his throat, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him this was not about to go well. "You're immortal now, Buffy. Well, as immortal as I am anyway. You're not going to get any older than this."

Spike watched as the shock on Buffy's face switched to anger and braced himself for the punch he saw coming. He clutched his nose as Buffy got to her feet and glared down at him, her hands balled into tight fists. "You know, some women would be happy to find out they weren't ever going to age," he said as he looked up at her with annoyance.

"Yeah, well, I'm not them," Buffy snapped. "How could you do this to me—and now even tell me?"

"I'm sorry!" Spike said. "I thought we already established that I hadn't really planned on the whole claim thing, and this part, well, I just told you now, didn't I?"

"Now wasn't soon enough!" Buffy yelled. She stood, making sure as she did that the sheet was still wrapped tightly around her. "I'm going on the balcony, and if you pull me back in, I'll—punch you in the nose again!" She stormed out, slamming the balcony door hard and cursing as it slid off the track. She sat back down on the ground, her eyes staring forward as she pulled her knees back to her chin.

Spike decided to let her stay out if that's what she wanted. Maybe a little time to herself would cool her off… He sighed and got to his feet in search of something to wrap his burnt hand with.

And the morning had started off so well…

*** *** ***

Buffy had been outside for hours now and she was nowhere near coming to grips with what Spike had just told her. Immortal? She's was going to live for possibly forever like this—with him? It had been bad enough to think about spending a normal human lifespan with that arrogant, overbearing vampire.

Except for the part where it wasn't so bad at all, but Buffy chose to ignore that. It interfered with her righteous indignation.

How dare he keep this from her for as long as he had! They'd already discussed her healing, her strength, and even how he'd die if she died, yet never once had he felt the need to key her in on her newfound immortality. And when had he planned on telling her if she hadn't panicked this morning? A century from now when she wondered why she still had smooth skin and all her teeth?

Buffy sighed and tightened the hold she had on her knees. Forever… She was seventeen years old—the concept of forever was so beyond anything she could really fathom. Forever was seventy, eighty years, and even that was so far beyond the horizon that she couldn't really grasp the concept. How long was a hundred years? Five hundred? A thousand? Would it all seem to blur together after a while until it no longer seemed long at all, or would time stretch on and on in an endless drag?

Would she forget things eventually? Would she still remember her mother's face a century from now, or the way her voice had sounded? Already some things had faded, and would time brush them all away into oblivion?

She had too many questions, and none of them had an answer. She was truly with Spike forever.

Buffy guessed it put a whole new spin on "'til death do us part" when one of you was already dead.

She could feel Spike's tension through the claim, but she didn't go inside, still too angry with him to be willing to soothe him now. He'd changed her, turned her into something she hadn't been before she'd met him. No, she wasn't a vampire, but she wasn't really human anymore either. Humans aged. They grew older and eventually, they died. Buffy would never do that. She'd stay like this, frozen as time moved on around her.

So many people longed for immortality, but Buffy doubted they had any more of a concept of it than she did, that they really knew what they were wishing for. Forever was daunting and foreboding. It was too much, too long. Forever didn't have an ending, and everything was meant to have an ending. It was the natural way of things.

But Spike was something unnatural, and now, so was she.

Buffy covered her face with her hands and cried.

*** *** ***

Spike could feel Buffy's tears and they tore at him. He wanted to go and gather her in his arms, but one look at his bandaged hand reminded him why he couldn't.

He didn't miss the symbolism there. Buffy belonged somewhere he couldn't go, and no matter how much he wanted to touch that, he couldn't—not without getting burned. He'd tried to pull her into his world, and all she did was resent him for it.

He kicked a small, empty bottle at his feet, cursing the ineptness of the mini bar. Like something that at best looked like what a bottle of liquor would look like from very far away could get him drunk. Please. He didn't think they made enough mini-bottles in the world to knock out his vampire constitution.

Spike growled in frustration. All he could ever do was bollix things up with Buffy again and again. Every time he thought he was getting somewhere with her, that maybe she was finally opening up, even just a little bit, he did something stupid enough to make her close herself off to him all over again.

It was clear that Buffy wasn't coming in anytime soon, even as the sun began to sink past the horizon. It wouldn't be long before he could go out there to her, but Spike wasn't fool enough to think that his company would be welcome. She needed her space, and bloody hell so did he.

With a snarl, he got to his feet and snatched his coat off the back of a chair, and he put it on as he walked out the door.

*** *** ***

Please remember to review. It makes me quite happy!

Spike's only real communication with the bartender had been his gruff order to keep his glass full and the quiet yet menacing growl he'd given when the bartender had tried to tell him he'd had enough. Spike would know when he'd had enough, and seeing as he was still able to feel, that time had not yet come.

However, he was beginning to doubt that there was enough alcohol in that place to fix his mood. He needed a real release. He needed violence and bloodshed.

His gaze fixed on a burly man who had been monopolizing the pool table for most of the night, and he grinned slowly. Nothing got someone ready for a fight quicker than losing money, and Spike was sure he could arrange himself a good brawl. It wouldn't be as satisfying as a hunt and a kill, but it would do.

Spike downed the rest of his drink then stood and made his way to the pool table.

*** *** ***

Buffy paced in front of the couch. Spike had been gone for hours, and she had no idea where he'd gone. She'd tried reaching out through the claim, but with the dark haze she had found in Spike's mind, she had quickly decided it was best just to keep as pulled back from him as she could. His current mood was not one she wanted to share.

Her stomach growled softly, but she ignored it, her focus completely on Spike. Her emotions ran back and forth between angry and worried as her thoughts bounced from the way he'd just left after dropping the whole immortal bombshell on her to concern over where he could be and if he was in any sort of trouble, and back again.

She stopped in mid-pace when she heard the door open and gasped as she turned and saw Spike. It was obvious he'd been in a fight, and Buffy gave into her first urge, which was to run over to him and help him out of his coat. "Where have you been? What happened?" she asked quickly.

Spike winced in pain as the duster slid off into Buffy's arms. "Went to a bar. Got in a bit of a fight. I'm fine."

Buffy's concern began to fade, and she tossed the duster over the edge of the couch before crossing her arms in front of her. "You were in a bar fight?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"I have been worried about you all night, and then here you come just walking in after being gone for hours, all beat up from a bar fight!" Buffy yelled. "What is wrong with you, huh?"

Spike stepped back, his annoyance at her yelling making him totally miss the part where she admitted to worrying about him. "I needed to get out for a bit! And what's with you, huh? You tell me to leave you alone all the sodding time, and when I finally do, I come home to finding you playing nagging wife!"

"Oh, don't you even make this about me," Buffy snapped. "You left me here alone and didn't even tell me where you were going!"

"Yeah, cause when I left, you really wanted to talk to me."

"You could've left a note!"

Spike held up a hand. "I'm not in the mood for this, Buffy. I needed a drink, and I needed a brawl, so I went out."

"You needed a brawl? What the hell does that mean? You like getting your face beat in?"

"The other guy looks a lot worse." At the look of horror that went across Buffy's face at that, Spike sighed. "He's alive. I didn't kill, didn't feed—which you should know, since you would've felt it if I had. I didn't do anything he can't heal from. And yeah, I need a fight now and then. Demon, craves violence—stop me when I get to something that you don't already know."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "I know all of that."

"Yeah, well, then you can just accept the fact that I need a fight now and then. You won't let me feed, so I can't get what I need there, and our sex life is a bloody joke so that doesn't help matters much either."

Buffy's mouth fell open slightly and her eyes filled with hurt. "Our sex life is a joke?" she asked in a small voice.

Spike sighed when he realized what he'd said. "I didn't mean it like that. The sex itself is good, kitten—you know it is. But you go hot and cold on me all the time, and I can't count on getting it every time I need it."

"So it's my fault that you go out and get into bar fights because I don't have sex with you enough?"

"Well, yeah."

Buffy threw her hands up in disgust. "You're a pig." She turned to storm off, but quickly realized there wasn't really anywhere to go in the hotel to get away from him, so she sat down on the couch instead, pointedly not looking at him.

"Bollocks," Spike muttered. Then he spoke louder. "Buffy, I didn't… Come on, I'm drunk and I just got into a bloody fight. You can't honestly expect to have a real conversation about any of this right now."

"There's no conversation to have, Spike."

Spike's anger rose again at that. "There bloody well is! I am so tired of this from you. You go back and forth on me all the time so I never know which version of you I'm gonna get. And nothing I do is ever good enough for you. I try to act like a man, you throw it back in my face. I act like a demon, and I disgust you. What can I do?"

Buffy turned, her eyes red with tears even as her muscles trembled with anger. "Take it all back! Erase all of this, so I can just go back to my life!"

"Well I can't! We're stuck with each other forever, whether you like it or not!"

Silence hung between them for long moments until Buffy finally whispered, just loud enough for Spike's vampiric hearing to detect, "I can't keep doing this."

He responded honestly. "Neither can I."

"So what are we going to do?"

The question was the elephant that had followed them since he'd first claimed her, and now it was out in the open. Neither one of them could go back to the lives they'd led before meeting, and the one they'd started together wasn't working either. On top of that, every attempt Spike had made to make things work between them had fallen flat. So where did that leave them?

His head and body ached, and Spike wished he could go to bed and save this for later, but he also knew he couldn't. They couldn't go on with this game of tug of war any longer, and with Buffy so apt to change her mood in a blink, he had to take advantage of the moment when it came. He walked over the couch and sat beside Buffy, close to her, but not touching.

"We're in this for the long haul now," Spike said. "I can't take it back. I'm sorry."

"Sorry you claimed me?" Buffy asked.

Spike shook his head. "No. I know you probably want me to be, but I can't. I'm a right selfish bastard, I know, but I want you. You're mine, and I can't see that as a bad thing—even if you do have a habit of driving me around the sodding bend. I've always been love's bitch, and now you're the woman I love, so all I want is to be with you. Simple as that. But I am sorry for the way it all happened. I've hurt you. I know that. And I'm sorry."

Buffy looked at him, the expression on her face one Spike couldn't quite figure out. But she wasn't yelling at him, so he decided to take that as a good sign. "Would you do it all over again?"

"No," Spike replied, shaking his head. "I would've claimed you that first time in the warehouse and then gone off with you someplace nice." He offered her a small smile.

"Too bad you're so flammable. We could've gone to Mexico, been beach bums."

"Beach still looks pretty in the night time, pet."

Buffy gave a half smile, though pain was still clear in her eyes. Spike felt something clutch the inside of his chest, and he was surprised to note that it was genuine guilt. He'd spent over a century living without guilt, without regrets, and now…he hurt because he'd hurt this girl. It wasn't the way things were supposed to be, not with him being a vampire, but it was the truth all the same. The longer he was around her, the more he thought about the things he'd done to her, the worse it made him feel.

He wanted to make it up to her. Not because he wanted to get her to love him, but because he thought she deserved it. It was a strange moment of epiphany for him, and he wondered if it would all seem the same in the morning when the haze of too much drink was gone.

Buffy didn't just feel the way she did towards him because she hated vampires. She felt the way she did because he was her tormenter. He'd taken her life as much as if he'd drained her dry—only worse because now he'd forced her into what for her must be something akin to hell.

But he couldn't change anything about the past. He couldn't go back in time and whisk her off the first time they met so he could treat her right from the very beginning. And even if he could, who was to say it would bring them any place different? All he had to work with now was the present, and what it would mean for their future. Odds were they had a lot of future stretched ahead of them at that, and he couldn't go on they way they had been any more than she could.

He cupped her cheek, grateful when she didn't pull away from his touch. "What do you need to make you happy, pet? Tell me."

Buffy swallowed, her gaze seeming to search Spike's for long moments before she answered. "I need…I need to know who killed my mother. It's been all I've focused on for so long, and I can't just stop my search. If it wasn't you that did it, then I need to know who did. There's someone out there that took my mother's life, and all that knowing that does is eat away at me. She needs her peace, Spike. I have to give it to her."

It wasn't the answer Spike had been expecting, though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. When he'd met her, Buffy had been consumed by the need to avenge her mother, willingly pitting herself more than once against a vampire that she had been no match for in order to try to fulfill that need. Of course it was something that still weighed on her. At least she'd seemed to accept that it really wasn't him who had killed Joyce.

"Then we'll find who it was," Spike told her. "I've got a connection to the demon world—obviously. I can help you."

For the first time since he'd claimed her, Spike saw hope in Buffy's eyes. "Can you? Will you?"

"Of course, pet. You're my mate, Buffy. Your fight is mine now."

"How are you going to help me?"

"Well, she died in Los Angeles, right? I figure we can start by going back there. It's been several years, yeah, but the death of a Slayer isn't something that stays quiet. Whoever killed her is probably still bragging about it to this day—you can take my word on that one. I can get into places you can't, and I can look around, listen to who's still talking. Hopefully, I'll find who did it."

"And then what?" Buffy asked.

"I kill them," Spike replied with a shrug.

Buffy shook her head. "No. I kill them."

"Buffy, listen to me. Whoever offed your mum has got to be strong—killin' a Slayer isn't an easy task. Had things gone differently, I would've killed you when you came after me. I'm not letting you put yourself in that sort of danger. You want your mother's murderer dead, fine—he's as good as dead. But you're not going to be the one to do it."

Buffy raised her chin. "I'm stronger now than I was."

"Doesn't make a difference," Spike replied.

"I don't need to be protected, Spike," Buffy snapped. "I'm not incapable of fighting."

"I never said you were. But I'm not going to let you put yourself in unnecessary danger either."

"Avenging the death of my mother isn't 'unnecessary danger.'"

"It is if I can do it for you!" Buffy opened her mouth to protest again at that, and Spike realized quickly that he wasn't going to get her to see things his way, so he spoke again. "Look, how about this—when we find out who it was, we decide how we're going to handle it, all right?"

Buffy knew he was placating her, but she was willing to go along with it for the time being. After they found out who it was, she could do what needed to be done. "Okay. Can we start for L.A. tomorrow night?"

"If that's what you want to do, yeah, we can."

She gave him a genuine smile before she surprised Spike by siding up to him and resting her head against him. He put his arm around her, but said nothing, not wanting to spoil this moment between them. Tonight had been the exact opposite of everything else between them, starting with the anger and hurtful words and ending with something close to peace. He wasn't fool enough to think it would be smooth sailing for them from that point on, but at least there seemed to be the possibility that they could be moving towards something other than the constant conflict that had plagued their relationship.

Maybe it was progress. Spike could only hope.

Eventually, Buffy's breathing pattern changed, and Spike realized she'd fallen asleep. He smiled softly and kissed the top of her head before he picked her up and carried her to the bed to tuck her in.

*** *** ***

See? I can move things along!

Please review.

It took Spike a few moments to identify the source of the pleasure that had pulled him out of sleep, but when he realized it was Buffy's warm mouth wrapped around his cock, he moaned and reached under the covers to tangle his fingers in her hair.

Buffy didn't stop now that she knew he was awake. Instead, she increased her efforts, continuing until he'd spent himself in her mouth.

Spike panted, fighting to catch unnecessary breath, and Buffy crawled back up his body to nuzzle against his chest. She said nothing, but Spike held on to her, wondering for a moment if he possibly hadn't woken up at all, and this was a very pleasant dream. Buffy waking him up with a blowjob was the sort of thing he'd thought would only happen in a dream, after all.

But this felt too real to be anything but, and Spike wondered if he could hold on to the hope he'd started to feel the night before. It had felt like a breakthrough, a genuine turning point in their relationship, but with Buffy, that could mean absolutely nothing. Sometimes he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking her exactly how many people she had in that head of hers.

Knowing that talking could drive her good mood away, but needing to risk it anyway, Spike asked her, "What brought that on, kitten?"

From beside him, Buffy shrugged. "I just wanted to. Did you like it?"

"Very much," Spike replied, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

She looked up into his eyes and asked, "Not something you'd call a 'joke?'"

Spike fought back the urge to grin. If what he'd said the night before had gotten to her that much, then it must've actually meant something to her. "No, baby. Not a joke at all. I love everything we do together. You're amazing. I didn't mean anything to the contrary last night."

Buffy bit her lip in a way that made Spike really want to kiss her, though he held back because he could tell she wanted to say something. "Then what did you mean?" she asked.

He thought for a moment, trying to determine how exactly to answer that. If he was honest with her, then she could very easily go into another one of her moods and ruin what seemed to be happening right then. But if he didn't, then it would just remain festering between them, and possibly lead to another large blow-up later.

"I meant the way you jerk me around." Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Spike silenced her when he spoke again quickly. "Let me finish. You asked me what I meant, so I'm telling you. Our sex life is a constant point of argument with us, Buffy. I know you enjoy being with me, but then you fight it, too, and you go cold on me. I spend half my time trying to guess what I can and can't do with you. Sometimes you immediately give into what's between us, and sometimes you fight it. I can't find a bloody pattern to it, and every time I touch you I have to deal with the fear that you're going to reject me. You bounce me back and forth like a rubber ball, and I got tired of it a long time ago."

Buffy was stiff in his arms. "Our relationship is the way it is because of you, Spike. I keep rejecting you because you're a vampire, and I don't want to be involved with a vampire."

"Well you are!" Spike sat up, taking a moment to hold on to his tenuous control. Yelling at Buffy would get him nowhere. "Look, we've gone back and forth about this for days now. I'm a vampire, you hate vampires—yeah, I got it. But we both are what we are, Buffy. Nothing's going to change that. My heart isn't going to miraculously start beating, and this bond between us isn't going to go away. You're going to be my mate for a very, very long time. And if I have to do that constantly walking on eggshells, then I'm going to end up as crazy as Drusilla."

"And you what, think this is all easy for me?" Buffy snapped. "You think feeling this sort of thing for a vampire doesn't make me feel like I'm going crazy?"

"No. I know this is hard for you, luv, and I also know that I haven't done much to make it any easier for you. And I'm sorry for that—I really am. But you're going to have to bend a little." Spike sighed. "Look, I'm not asking you to love me. I've already accepted that being with you means going the rest of my days without love. But can you at least like me? A little bit? Enough to just stop fighting the physical aspect of our relationship? Please, Buffy…"

Buffy opened her mouth to comment on the fact that he seemed to be telling her that their relationship would be fine with him as long as she gave him sex whenever he wanted it, when something else he'd said stuck in her head. There had been a look in his eyes when he said he'd accepted going without love, and something about it made her sad. Could love really be that important to a vampire? And if it was, then what had he sacrificed by claiming her?

Until that moment, Buffy had never tried to picture things from his side. He'd done this to her, so if anything bad happened to him because of it, it was his own fault and therefore, what he deserved. But now, she suddenly realized what he must've given up. She didn't like to admit it, but she knew Spike was in love with her. She didn't understand it, and it went against everything she'd ever believed about vampires, but when she was completely honest with herself, she had to admit that was what she felt from him through the claim. It was strong, and it was real.

So if Spike could love her, then vampires must be capable of love, at least in some way. Which meant Drusilla must have loved him. She'd been with him for over a century, after all. By choosing in an emotion-charged moment to claim her as his to protect her from Angelus, Spike had lost Drusilla, and along with that anything the other woman had felt for him.

Their relationship must've been more of a strain on Spike than Buffy realized. He'd gone from someone who loved him back to someone who couldn't even accept what he was. Not that she thought that meant she should accept him because hey, vampire and all, but still, it couldn't be easy for him.

She looked down at her hands and spoke softly. "I'm sorry I can't be for you what she was. I just can't be, Spike. I don't mean to be jerking you around, but my own emotions are jerking me around. When you're touching me, everything else goes away, and all I know is that I want you inside of me, but then afterwards I remember what you are, and I'm disgusted with myself."

"Yeah, I've kinda picked up on that," Spike said. "But you're only causing yourself more trouble, Buffy. You're not going to stop wanting me, so you might as well just accept it. It'll save yourself a lot of emotional drain. And what did you mean by you can't be what she was?"

"Drusilla. I can't love you like she did." Buffy looked up and frowned at his response to that. "Why are you laughing?"

"Dru never loved me, pet. Not anymore than she loved those freaky little dolls of hers. I was another toy to her, a plaything to either enjoy or be cross with, depending on her whim." Spike chuckled softly. "Maybe I should just shut up about your mood swings. They're nothing compared to hers."

"So our relationship is actually better than the one you had with her?"

"Sad isn't it?"

"Just a little." The corner of Buffy's mouth twitched up in the beginnings of a smile, but after a moment, she sobered again. "I wish I could accept everything I feel for you, Spike. I know things would be easier that way. But I just can't. You're a vampire. You're a killer."

"I'm not killing anymore," Spike pointed out.

Buffy sighed. "You stopped less than a week ago. And it's not like I have any real proof you won't kill again."

"I won't, Buffy. I promise you, I won't."

"I'm sorry, Spike, but your promise isn't good enough for me. You don't even have a soul."

Spike's head went down and he waited a moment before he said almost inaudibly, "I could get one. If that would make it easier for you."

Buffy was taken aback by the offer, but she soon replied, "How? It's not like you can go buy one down at the local Wal-Mart."

He looked at her again. "Angelus got one."

"Yeah, and from what I saw back in Sunnydale, a lot of good it did him, too." Buffy let out a slow breath. "If you got a soul, it wouldn't help anything. You'd still be a vampire and it wouldn't undo anything you've done in the past. You'd still have blood on your hands. My problem with being with you, Spike, isn't about the future. Even if you never kill again, you still have in the past. You've murdered countless people, and that's not something I'm okay with. You having a soul isn't going to change that for me."

"I'm not asking you to be okay with it. If you were, you wouldn't be the woman I fell in love with. You're good, pet, and as much as you hate me for being evil, I love you for being good. It's ironic and insane, I know, but it's the truth. You…god, you glow. But can't you just accept that I'm doing the best I can for you? I'm trying, Buffy. I'm trying so hard. All I want in the world is to make you happy. If I could walk out in the sunlight right now and let myself dust knowing it wouldn't hurt you, too, I would, just to give you your freedom back."

Buffy's scream of "No!" surprised them both, and Spike looked at her sharply. "Pet?"

"Don't…don't talk about being dust. Please, Spike. And don't…don't try to make me analyze why that bothers me or rub it in my face or whatever, but it does, so just…please…"

"Yeah, all right, no analyzing." A grin pushed at his mouth and he couldn't fight it.

Buffy looked at him. "You're smiling. Stop it."

"Can't help it. You like me."

"Do not!" Buffy said, a little too quickly.

"Do, too. You'd miss me if I was dust. You like me."

Buffy slapped his shoulder, though there wasn't a lot of effort put into the action. "Shut up. This is rubbing my face in it."

"No it isn't. Then I'd be taunting you about it, which I'm not. I'm just happy to know that you like me."

Buffy let her hair cover part of her face as she held her thumb and index finger a small ways apart. "Just a little bit. And only sometimes. When you're not pissing me off. Which is almost never."

Spike's grin broke wide across his face. "Hey, that's more than I thought I'd ever get."

Buffy shook her finger at him. "No bringing this up later."

"Yeah, I know. You'll deny you ever said it, or blame it on the claim, or Martians controlling your brain, or whatever your excuse of the day is."

"Hey! I've never blamed anything on Martians!"

"Not yet."

Buffy pouted. "I don't think I like you anymore."

"Yes you do. And admit it, there are worse people you could be with."

"Nope. You're the worst," Buffy insisted, though the twinkle in her eyes led Spike to believe she didn't really mean it.

"Sure there is. You could be with, uh, Gilbert Gottfried."

Buffy's eyebrow arched. "Gilbert Gottfried?"

"Yeah. Can you imagine having to listen to that voice for centuries?"

Buffy couldn't fight her chuckle. "Okay, point. You're better than him."

"Or hey, that freaky looking comedian bloke—Carrot Top. I have to beat him, right?"

"Yeah, okay, him, too," Buffy admitted, laughing a little more.

"Mickey Rourke?"

"Okay, fine. You win. There are hideous people in the world, I could be stuck with them, and instead I get your gorgeous self. Happy now?"

"I'm gorgeous?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like you don't already know."

"Well, I don't actually have a reflection," Spike pointed out, smirking.

"Right, 'cause you strut like a man who doesn't know he's gorgeous. All that swagger—please."

"You know, we should have conversations like this more often. You like me and I'm gorgeous. This is good."

Buffy flopped back onto the bed. "Great. Now I've inflated your ego."

Spike lay back down beside her. "Well, it's about time you did. Usually you just kick it."

"And yet somehow, I think it's managed to survive."

Spike chuckled. He turned on his side so he was facing her and Buffy moved her head to look at him. Gazing into her green eyes made something well up inside of him that he'd never felt before he met her. "Buffy?"

The way he said her name told Buffy the mood of their conversation had gone back to serious, and she answered him softly. "Yes?"

"There's something else that's been happening, with the claim. I think…I think I should probably discuss it with you."

Buffy stiffened. "Oh god, what is it now?"

"No, it's nothing bad. Not for you anyway. It's…" Spike took his eyes away from hers. "About what I mentioned earlier—about getting a soul. I don't…I don't think I'd even need to. I think… I think I might be sharing yours." There, he'd said it, the thing that had been weighing on him for days now. It was out in the open, and he couldn't ignore it anymore.

"What?" Buffy's brow furrowed. "Sharing my soul? That doesn't even make sense…"

"It does," Spike replied. "We share everything now. And it isn't like I have my own. It's not affecting me that strongly. But I'm feeling, well, guilt about some things. And in 118 years as a vampire, I've never felt an ounce of guilt before." He swallowed, pausing for a moment before he continued. "Buffy, I've heard stories about other vampires who claimed humans. It was never all that common, and I've never met one, but from the stories I've heard, the vampires often times went crazy. I thought it could've just been from having to share so much with a human, but now I'm wondering if maybe it was the soul. Maybe they kept feeding, and there started being guilt attached to that or something."

"Do you feel like you're going crazy?"

Spike shook his head. "No. Not like that anyway. I mean, you make me want to pull my hair out most of the time, but I don't feel like I'm going to start cowering in the corner rocking back and forth or anything."

"So you don't know it's my soul?"

"I don't know what it is. I don't understand what I'm feeling, I just know it's something new."

Buffy pondered that with a frown. This was something else she hadn't thought of before now—how the claim could be changing Spike. She'd focused so much on everything it was doing to her, that she hadn't even begun to think about what it could be doing to him. She'd assumed that since the claim had come from the vampire, then it must be only trying to change her to make her the right sort of mate for him. But was it really not as one-sided as that?

And if it wasn't, did that mean it wasn't the malicious force that Buffy kept trying to make it be? What exactly was the true nature of a claim?

Buffy didn't know, and she was beginning to realize Spike didn't really either. He had known more than her, but it seemed to be mostly from things he'd heard than from actual experience. He was as lost in all of this was she was.

It was something she hadn't realized before, and somehow, she found it comforting. Maybe Spike really didn't have control over her the way she'd feared. Maybe they were equals in all of this.

She curled up against his chest, noting idly that his lack of heartbeat didn't bother her at all anymore, and deciding not to care. Spike draped his arms loosely around her, but didn't press for sex or even more talk, and Buffy was glad for that. She wanted the silence and the light touch. Her head was sore from what they'd already discussed that day, and she couldn't take anymore.

All she wanted at the moment was to rest in the arms of her lover, and apparently, that was good enough for him now, too.

*** *** ***

A few people have asked if I'm going to start moving forward soon with more plot based chapters, and I am, very soon. I just feel like I needed to get them to a point in their relationship where they could begin to work together as a team.

Please remember to review!

Spike stopped beside his car and took Buffy's hand, bringing her to a stop as well. Her apprehension was clear through the claim, though the reason why was not. So he decided to ask.

He pulled her over to him and rested his hands against her hips. "What's wrong, luv?"

"Nothing." Spike's eyebrow arched and Buffy sighed. "Sometimes I really hate that I can't lie to you," she said.

"Well you can't, so tell me what's wrong," Spike replied.

"I'm nervous. Now let's get in the car."

Buffy tried to walk away, but Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "About what?"

"You know, you are such the woman in this relationship," Buffy said. "I keep pushing for it to be just sex, but nooo…you have to talk about our feelings."

"You're not going to get me to leave you alone by putting me on the defensive right now, Buffy."

"Damn."

"The claim's telling me you're worked up in all sorts of knots. I need to know what's got you so upset."

"Going back to L.A.," Buffy told him, knowing he wouldn't drop it until she gave him an answer he could accept.

"Do you not want to go?" Spike asked her with a frown.

"No, I do want to," she replied. "I need to find out what happened to my mother, and your idea of how to do that is a good one. But I'm still unsure about what we'll find there or how it'll all turn out. And, well, we came up here running from Angelus, and this is going to take us closer to Sunnydale again. What if he tries something?"

"Don't worry about him," Spike said. "Odds are he's going to stay in Sunnydale for a while, playing Slayer Stalker. We'll just take the route around Sunnydale and avoid him." He placed his hand against her cheek. "I won't let him touch you, Buffy. Ever."

"No one's ever made me feel as vulnerable as he did," Buffy admitted softly. "When he had me, and I just knew what he was going to do to me… It was horrible."

"I know, sweetheart. But he didn't, and he never will. He can't now. That's my mark on you. He can't touch you with cock or fangs."

"He could still hurt you," Buffy said.

Her concern touched him deeply. "I'm not going to let him do that either," Spike replied. "I've got too much to stick around for these days."

Suddenly, Buffy reached up and took hold of the back of his head, pushing him down against her lips. The surprise of the kiss took Spike off-guard for only a moment before he was kissing back, his arms twining around her to hold her close. The night stilled around them as they lost themselves in the embrace.

When they finally broke apart, Buffy was blushing, her eyes averted shyly, and Spike couldn't help but smile at just how cute she was. After everything they'd done together, she could still manage to look they'd just shared a kiss after a first date.

"We should get going," Buffy said. "There's only so many hours of moonlight and all."

"Right." Spike walked around to the passenger's side of the car with Buffy, opening and holding the door for her. She gave him a small smile, and he smiled back before shutting the door and going around to his own side.

*** *** ***

Spike stopped at another motel like the ones they'd been to on the trip up. He felt bad about bringing her to another one, but the sun would be in the sky soon, and they didn't have the time to find a decent place.

He went inside and got a key before he came back out to the car for Buffy. He lifted her out and carried her into the motel room to what would be their bed for the night, realizing as he did that this felt different than the other times. The actions were the same, but all that served was to do was make it clearer that something really had changed. He couldn't name exactly what it was that was different because he didn't think it was actually something tangible. It was a feeling, an emotion.

He undressed Buffy and tucked her under the covers before he undressed himself and joined her. She turned towards him in her sleep and nestled herself against him, making a contented sound as she did.

Spike fell asleep with a smile.

*** *** ***

Spike was surprised when he woke up alone. He sat up, looking around the motel room with worry for a moment before he noticed the sound of the shower running. He relaxed then, lying back down, until he realized that a running shower meant wet, naked Buffy.

He went into the bathroom and stepped into the shower stall, his eyes darkening at the slow smile that crossed Buffy's face when she saw him. "I felt you wake up," she said. "Thought that might mean you were gonna join me."

"Not much could've stopped me," Spike replied as his eyes raked up and down her body. Rivulets of water ran down her flushed skin, and his cock strained towards her.

Buffy moved to him and pressed her hands, palms flat, against his chest. Spike's own hands traveled down to cup her bottom and push her flush against him. The feel of so much of his skin against her own made her tremble, and Buffy met his mouth for a kiss.

Spike's kisses were a perfect combination of talent and desire, never failing to make her desperate for more of him.

When he pulled back to let her breathe, Buffy expected Spike to turn her around and take her against the shower wall. Instead, he pulled back from her, though the tip of his erection was still rubbing against her, forcing her to bite back a moan of desire.

His voice was heavy with lust when he spoke. "Have you washed your hair yet?"

Buffy shook her head no, not trusting herself to be able to form actual words.

Spike spotted where Buffy had set her shampoo when she'd first gotten into the shower, and he picked it up before ordering her, "Turn around." She did without protest, and Spike filled his palm with shampoo, inhaling deeply as he did to catch the scent.

Buffy did moan at the first touch of his hands in her hair, and after only a few moments of him working the shampoo into a lather she was all but purring like a contented kitten. She'd never before thought that something as simple as washing hair could become erotic, but now she was wondering if she could have an orgasm from that alone.

Before she could find out, Spike had moved back again. "Under the water now, luv."

She stepped under the spray, and Spike watched with undisguised lust as she washed the suds from her hair. The scent of her shampoo permeated the small space, and Spike shivered with anticipation.

When she pulled herself back out of the water again, Spike was on her, kissing her hard as he spun them around. He growled low in his throat as he pressed her back against the tile of the wall and her legs wrapped around his narrow hips.

Behind them, the water pounded steadily, setting the tempo for their frenzied lovemaking. Buffy held on to Spike tightly, trusting him to keep them steady despite the slick floor beneath his feet. Steam surrounded them, warming his skin as droplets of water clung to it, making it for once damp to the touch.

Buffy came with a scream and Spike groaned loudly, the sound of her cry pushing him further towards his own release. He knew he could hear it every day for the rest of his existence and never get enough of it. A few more thrusts, and he was following her over.

Buffy slipped her legs down from his hips, though she kept her hands on his arms, still needing him to keep her from falling. "Best damn shower ever," she declared with a giggle. She moved her lips to his collarbone and pressed gentle kisses against the skin there.

Spike chuckled, and the sound rumbled through Buffy. "You won't get any argument from me there." He brought her closer to him and breathed her scent in. "I love you, Buffy. All I can do is keep falling deeper."

She didn't say it back. He hadn't expected her to. But she didn't protest or push him away either, and Spike let that be enough.

*** *** ***

Buffy wondered how exactly she'd gotten to the point where being on her hands and knees with a vampire pounding into her from behind had ceased to be something that she'd think of only with disgust, and had become instead something that made her moan and beg for more.

But then Spike grabbed on to her hips and pushed deeper into her, and she stopped caring.

*** *** ***

Spike shut the driver's side door of his car then turned to look at Buffy in the seat next to him. "We'll go get you some dinner, and then I need to find somewhere to get blood. My supply is empty."

"Okay. This seems like a pretty populated area, so there's probably a hospital nearby," Buffy replied.

"I think I saw a sign for one last night on the way in, so it shouldn't be a problem," Spike said. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I saw a Burger King across the street. I like them."

"Okay. Burger King it is, pet."

It didn't strike Spike until they were pulling up to the drive-thru window to get her food how strangely domestic it all was.

*** *** ***

Buffy munched on a fry as she wondered how long Spike had been gone. She wished she had a watch for times like this. It felt like he'd been gone forever, but she knew it probably hadn't actually been that long at all. She was just being impatient.

She realized that in itself was a bit silly. What was she impatient to do? Drive to the next motel? Get to L.A.? Neither of those things was really something she looked on without at least some dread. She hated motels these days, even if the one that day hadn't been so bad. Not that she'd paid much attention to it, what with all the sex.

And Los Angeles… She'd grown up there, it had been the place she'd called home for most of her life, and yet…it was the last place she really wanted to be. Because it had been home for so long, it held too many memories, too many ghosts. What would happen when they got there? Would they really be able to track down her mother's killer? And then what?

Furthermore, what if they did find the killer and she did manage to get her revenge? Then what would her life be? Would she spend the rest of her life—however long that might end up being—living this sort of transient lifestyle with Spike? Would she keep going on with no real home and no real purpose?

She picked up her drink and frowned when she realized all that was in the cup now was ice. She took off the lid, popped a cube in her mouth, and crunched it. As loathed as she was to ever admit it out loud, there probably were a lot worse people she could be with than Spike, but at the same time, the thought of that spending the rest of her days as she had since she'd met him didn't really appeal to her.

She wanted something more than a string of nearly-identical motels.

But what did she want? Buffy wasn't sure about that. She knew the things she couldn't have, like the perfect house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and two kids, but did she want that? Had she ever wanted that?

Spike had his blood now, and he was headed back to the car. She couldn't see him, couldn't hear him, but she knew it all the same. So she pushed back her thoughts about some day. After all, she had more than enough to worry about in the present.

*** *** ***

Thank you very much to the people that have continued to read, review, and support this fic. It means so much to me. Please keep it up.

Buffy was relieved when they made it to Los Angeles without incident. A small part of her worried that this meant they'd blown all their luck, but as the drove into the city, she found that she was more relieved than anything else. Furthermore, there'd been no sign of Angelus, even when they'd been near Sunnydale. Spike had continued to drink bagged blood, and Buffy had made an effort to keep from fighting with him. The trip was tense enough without adding yet another blow up to it.

Spike allowed her to roll down her window and look out as they drove down the L.A. streets, and Buffy watched as the scenery of the city that she had lived in for most of her life moved past them. It was all so familiar, yet she felt no connection to anything, no sense of relief just from being home. Los Angeles wasn't home to her, despite the fact she'd grown up there, and Buffy realized with sadness that she really didn't have a place that she could truly call home.

She didn't remember a time even when she had.

Howard had tried. He'd kept them in California instead of moving them to England because he thought it would be easier for her that way. But their apartment had never seemed like more than borrowed space, had never had the sense of warmth to it that Buffy associated with the idea of home. Howard had cared about her, she was sure, and she had cared about him, too, but there was always a sense she got from him that when it came right down to it, she was an obligation. He took care of her not because he'd wanted to raise a daughter, but because as Joyce's Watcher, he felt as if caring for her child after her death was his duty.

It was nothing Buffy had ever held against him. He'd given her the things she needed and had never been cruel to her. He was an older man, a well-established bachelor, and she couldn't blame him for not being overly thrilled by the idea of having a small child to raise on his own. She was simply grateful that he had.

"This was your old neighborhood, wasn't it, pet?"

Buffy turned sharply towards Spike, startled that he had spoken. He'd been surprisingly silent for most of their car trips. "It is. You remember that?"

"I set myself up near the Slayer, so I was staying around here, too," Spike replied. "So yeah, I remember where it was. I thought it would probably be a good place to start looking."

"They found her not far from our apartment, I think," Buffy said.

"Good place to start then. We should probably wait until tomorrow, though. There's not enough hours of dark left to really get anything accomplished."

"Yeah, okay. We'll head out tomorrow right after dusk."

Spike glanced at her for a second. "I'll head out."

Buffy's back grew straight. "Look, I know you have this whole caveman 'gotta protect my mate' thing going on, but she was my mother, Spike. I'm not just going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs while you search for her killer alone."

"And I'm not asking you to, Buffy. But for what I have planned for tomorrow night, it'll be a lot easier to do without a human tagging along, since that'll raise more than a few questions. So unless you're keen on either me turning you or you blowing any chance I have of getting someone to talk, I suggest you let me do this part on my own."

"I don't like either of those options," Buffy said, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised by that." Spike sighed. "Look, pet, I don't like the idea of going out and leaving you alone like this either. Probably not for the same reasons you don't, but it's still not something I'm overly thrilled about. So believe me when I say that I want you to stay behind because it's the best way to do what I need to do to try to turn up some leads."

"And what if you do find a lead, huh? Am I supposed to just sit around and wait some more while you follow it?"

Spike's jaw ticked. For most of the trip to L.A., Buffy had been, well, pleasant and agreeable, surprisingly. He should've known that wasn't going to last…

"It depends on what sort of lead it is. I might have to be on my own for a while."

"Won't me being your mate keep other demons from questioning why I'm with you?" Buffy asked.

"No," Spike answered. "That'll just make them question it more. A vampire running around town with a human mate is not exactly something you see every day. And there's probably more than a few vampires who wouldn't talk to me at all if they saw I had a human mate. For other vamps, it means I'm tainted."

"You're tainted? With what?"

"Humanity. Most vamps don't have much of it, and they don't like the ones that do," Spike explained. "I've dealt with it since I was turned, used to try to fight it by being the biggest and the baddest. No one could call me out for still feeling something if they were afraid of me. But claiming you has killed that for me, so I'm going to have to get respect enough from my kind to get them talking to me with reputation and intimidation alone. And you, hanging around me with your big green eyes and beating pulse, wouldn't help much in that."

"Oh." Buffy frowned hard as she thought about what Spike had just said. "I'm not understanding the whole 'tainted with humanity' issue," she told him after a few moments.

Spike almost sighed, but managed to hold it in. And why didn't that surprise him one bit? "Vampires, like humans, are all different. The Watchers' Council likes to tell its girls that we're all the same animal, just wearing human skin now. Like the person inside dies completely and the demon is all that goes on. But if that really were the case, then why would a vampire retain all the memories from being human? Seems to me that if we were just demons, those wouldn't exactly stick around. Not a lot of use for memories of a human life if you're about nothing but blood lust."

"So you're telling me you're the exact same guy you were when you were human, just with fangs now?"

Buffy was surprised when Spike responded to her question with a laugh. "Hardly. It's been over a century for me, Buffy. Of course I've changed in that period of time. And yeah, becoming a vampire does change you, too. You loose your soul, that's true. You're not worrying about what's right and wrong anymore because it doesn't matter. Vampires live outside of society, so social morals—not an issue. But the core of who you are, that doesn't change. If you can love deeply in life, then you can still love deeply in death." Spike turned towards Buffy for a moment as he spoke the last bit, letting her know in no uncertain terms what he meant.

Buffy chose not to respond directly to that. Instead, she asked, "Then why is retaining humanity seen as a taint to vampires? I mean, if what you're saying is true, then shouldn't most vampires still have this?"

Spike laughed again. "Wow, you have quite a high opinion of the human race, pet. You think all of you are kind and full of love, deep down inside? Please. Most of you want to kill each other off with souls. At least vampires have the need for blood as an excuse."

"That isn't true," Buffy snapped. "Most people don't want to kill each other."

"Ever been stuck in traffic?"

"You're just all…jaded and evil," Buffy said, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Humans are just as capable of real evil as any demon. Trust me. I've seen enough of it in my time."

"I'm not saying humans are perfect, and I'm not saying they don't do bad things. But we're not like demons," Buffy argued.

"You just keep telling yourself if it makes you feel better. But I've seen a lot in my time, Buffy, and I've learned a thing or two about the human psyche. Most of them are just waiting for an opportunity to let their inner darkness loose. They're one slip of conscience away from a killing spree. I bet if just about any human had the chance to kill at least someone without ever getting punished for it, they would."

"No. Some would, but not all of us."

"Didn't say all. Said most."

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "You just think that because of what you are. But it isn't true. Vampires are the way they are because they're demons, not because they've lost their conscience and now they can be all kill-happy just like they've always wanted to be."

"You know what the first act of a vampire often is? They go kill the people they most wanted to kill in life. Hell, Angelus murdered his entire village. Conscience gone, rules of society gone—you're free to act out on all those base impulses you've had to keep locked up for years."

"Then what was your first act as a vampire?"

Suddenly, Spike's entire demeanor changed. He withdrew from her, his body going rigid. "That's none of your concern."

Buffy almost pushed it, almost demanded he answer her question. But then she caught something rolling off of him in waves through the claim. Pain. Whatever had happened, it had left a deep emotional scar on him, one that Buffy was afraid to pick. Instead, she turned back towards the window, hoping Spike would just let this conversation drop.

He did.

*** *** ***

Buffy rarely dreamt about her mother, but that night she did. She supposed it had been the combined effect of returning to Los Angeles and renewing her efforts to find Joyce's killer that had brought the dreams into her mind.

At first, they'd been good. Happy memories of her mother's smile, of how it felt when she held her. Warm, foggy memories of the last time in her life when Buffy had thought she was safe and loved.

But then it had changed, the images playing in her mind's eye suddenly dark and bloodied. When she awoke, her throat was raw from screaming, her eyes hot with tears, and Spike had pulled her up and gathered her in his arms, trying to soothe the terrors that were plaguing her in her sleep.

She came fully awake, but she didn't say anything, nor did she try to lie back down. Instead, she cried against him, allowing his arms to be a haven.

When her tears finally slowed, and she looked up at him, Spike wiped her face with his thumb. "What was it, princess?"

"I dreamt about my mom," she told him. "I don't remember it very well, just that it…wasn't good at the end."

"Do you dream about her a lot?"

Buffy shook her head. "I used to. Well, it comes in spurts, I guess. Sometimes I'll have several dreams about her, and then sometimes I won't for months." Her eyes went away from his face again. "I don't mind when they're good dreams. It's almost like getting to see her again for a little bit."

Spike guided them back down to the bed, Buffy's head resting at the crook of his neck as he stroked her hair soothingly. "We'll find who did it, kitten. I won't let you down on this."

"You're helping me. That's more than anyone else has ever done." Buffy took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to still the last of her tears. "I told Howard before he died that I wanted to find who had killed my mother and get revenge, but he wouldn't even let me talk about it. He said that was part of the past, and I needed to move on, that that's the way my mother would want it, but I couldn't. I can't move on with anything until I put that part of my past to rest. It's always been something that's weighed on me. When I was four years old, my mother left and never came home, and I want to know why."

Despite her best efforts to stop them, Buffy felt tears coming to her eyes again, and she wrapped her arms tighter around Spike. "She used to promise me every night before she'd go out that she'd come home to me, that she'd be there in the morning to take care of me. I didn't understand it as much when I was little, didn't know fully what she was going out to do, but I knew it was serious, and I also knew that she meant it when she said she'd come home. She told me that the last night, too. I need to know what she faced that was so horrible she couldn't keep her promise to me anymore."

"Joyce was a good fighter. One of the best I'd ever seen," Spike told her. "I'd faced off against two Slayers before her, but she was the only one that ever fought like she really had something in this world she wanted to hold on to. She didn't take stupid chances, didn't let herself slip. She meant to keep her promise, Buffy. I know she did."

"She still seemed that way, even the last night?" Buffy asked.

Spike nodded. "Yeah."

"Tell me. What was that fight like? What happened?"

"There was this demon bloke, went by the name of Ashmalare. He had some great evil plan to bring about the end of the world, like the crazy ones tend to do, and this one involved the sacrifice of a vampire gifted with second sight. Well, his psychic vamp of choice turned out to be Drusilla, and he snagged her one night when we were out on a hunt. He overpowered me then, and I knew I couldn't take him on my own. Normally, I probably would've tried anyway, but I didn't want to take any chances where Dru was concerned, so I decided I'd get some help. It seemed to me that if Ashmalare had set up shop in L.A. that he had to be on Joyce's radar, too, so I went to her. Convinced her we'd have a better chance of killing the blighter if we went after him together."

"She just agreed?" Buffy asked. "Weren't you two like mortal enemies?"

"Yeah, we were, but our battles tended to end in a stalemate, and I think Joyce was ready to get rid of me. She couldn't ever seem to kill me, but I was a threat as long as I was around. So she made me agree to skip town and never come back after we finished off Ashmalare."

"And that's what you did?"

"I did," Spike replied. "This is the first time I've been in Los Angeles since that night. We stopped the world from ending, and Joyce was bloody amazing. All I did was offer a little distraction and take out some minions to cover her back, but she took Ashmalare head on, like a woman who knew she was going to win. And she did. Chopped him up into tiny pieces."

"Then you took Drusilla and left?"

"Yes. She was more out of it than usual, and I carried her to the car. Gave Joyce a nod to say good-bye, and that was it. I drove off and didn't look back."

"Do you think maybe Ashmalare wasn't dead?" Buffy asked. "Or maybe he still had some minions around that could've killed her?"

"I doubt Joyce would've been taken down by a minion, but it's possible. And I don't know about Ashmalare. He looked pretty dead, and it's hard to heal from being chunks, but there are certain kinds of demons that can. I don't know what kind he was beyond ugly nutjob." Spike cleared his throat. "Why exactly did you think it was me? Was it only because you'd seen me with her that night?"

"That's what the official Watchers' Council report said," Buffy replied. "I found a copy after Howard died, in his personal papers. It didn't go into detail, just gave the date and place of death and under cause it had William the Bloody, vampire. There was a small blurb about her being found with vampire marks on her neck and her blood drained, and that you were the vampire she fought that night."

"Watchers didn't get their facts straight then," Spike said. "But that's understandable since she didn't have her Watcher with her that night. Hard to make a full report when you don't see what happened."

"Yeah. Howard must've told them it was you because you'd been at our apartment."

"It's a logical conclusion," Spike conceded. "I would've thought the same thing, in his position."

Buffy nodded, then yawned. It was information overload, too much when her mind wasn't awake enough to process it all. All the pieces weren't seeming to fit together, and she wasn't in the right state to start trying to make them fit. "I'm too tired to work on theories right now. Tomorrow?"

Spike knew her well enough by now to know when she'd shut down. "Of course, pet." He kissed the top of her head. "Good night, Buffy. Love you."

Buffy snuggled against him, even as she ignored his declaration of love as she'd taken to doing recently. It was easier for her that way. "Good night."

*** *** ***

Please take a moment to review. The only sort of payment I get for all the time and energy I spend writing is knowing that I have managed to entertain someone, so please, let me know if I have.

Buffy tended to wake up before Spike, and the next morning was no exception. On their trip down to Los Angeles, she'd started waking him up, finding the motel rooms too boring if she was the only one awake. However, this morning, she decided to let him sleep. He'd need to be well rested if he was going to be out tonight looking for information about what happened to her mother.

She still didn't like the idea of him going out alone, but the logical part of her mind told her he was right. He needed to convince anyone he spoke to tonight that he was looking for the killer of a Slayer for evil reasons, not because he wanted to help the daughter she'd left behind.

Buffy tried the television, knowing if she kept it at a low enough volume it wouldn't wake Spike, but when she couldn't get it to turn on, she remembered him telling her when they'd first gotten the room that the only one they had available was one with a broken television. She decided then that the next time they were out, she was buying something to read. Even if it was some trashy gossip magazine or romance novel, it would be better than sitting around doing nothing.

She sat beside Spike in the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin, and her thoughts began to wander back to their conversation the night before. She didn't doubt Spike's truthfulness in what he'd told her, but it didn't make the picture clear enough for her. The big thing was the space of missing time between when Spike had left with Drusilla and when her mother's body had been found. At some time in between those points, she'd had a run in with a vampire other than Spike or Drusilla that had killed her. Who had it been?

Buffy was only four when it happened, but she couldn't remember her mother facing off against any other vampires of Spike's caliber at the time. And if there had been another major player in town, wouldn't Spike mention it? Surely he would've known if he'd had another vampire competing with him to be the killer of the longest-lived Slayer in history. And if that were the case, then he'd be saying something about it now, focusing their search on that vampire instead of starting with what was basically no leads at all.

Unless he didn't really want to help her or he was trying to protect the other vampire, but Buffy knew that was unlikely. A few weeks ago, she might have thought differently, but not now. For someone as happy to flash his "I'm evil, ask me how" badge as he was, Spike was surprisingly honest. Furthermore, he seemed nothing but genuine in his desire to help her avenge her mother. Buffy wasn't sure if it was something he was doing out of love or because he wanted to try to get her to like him more, but either way, she was grateful.

So that meant that so far their list of suspects was very short and very unhelpful. It consisted of an apocalypse-wanting demon—but only if he was capable of putting himself together from fleshy chunks—and a currently nameless, faceless vampire. Which meant it could conceivably be just about any vampire who had been in or near L.A. at that time.

Okay, so maybe the suspect list wasn't so much short as ridiculously long…

Her one hope was that Spike was right when he said that if it was a vampire that killed her mother, that vampire would be still bragging. If they could just find at least someone who had heard of a vampire that had killed a Slayer in Los Angeles in 1985, then they'd have a lead, which was better than where they were now.

She had the sudden urge to start writing things down in a notebook, like she'd seen detectives do in movies. Keep a list of the facts they knew, the clues they had. She didn't have a notebook, but there was a pad of paper with the motel's name on it beside the table, and she grabbed that and the pen on top of it. In bubbly, teenaged girl letters, she titled the top of the page "What I Know" and drew a line under it.

Buffy chewed the end of the pen as she thought about what to write first. She decided to start with what she'd gathered first and wrote next to a bullet point, "Left with Spike on night in question." She nodded. That sounded official. And it looked nice and orderly, too.

Then under it, she wrote, "Found with vampire bites on neck."

Under that came, "Killer NOT Spike." She underlined it. Twice. Because, after all, narrowing down you list of suspects by figuring out who it wasn't was very important.

Next, "Fought demon…" Buffy paused, frowning as she tried to remember what name Spike had said the night before. Finally, she settled on "Fought demon A." She'd ask him the name again later. Then she added, "Killed A. Won battle."

After that, she was at a loss to fill in the blanks, so she flipped over to the next page and titled it, "What I Don't Know." She made the first bullet point there and stopped. What didn't she know? She didn't know where her mother went after she stopped the world from ending that night. She didn't know who she'd met then. She didn't know who killed her. She didn't know why her mother never came home.

So what didn't she know? Buffy wrote the answer in big letters across the page, then tossed the pad and pen from the bed. This wasn't going to help. She was at a complete loss as to who had murdered her mother, and unless Spike managed a miracle, she didn't think she was ever going to know.

Her nerves were jumping, and she needed to calm them. Hoping the hot water would do her some good, she slipped out of the bed and went into the bathroom to shower.

*** *** ***

As soon as the bed began to cool without her in it, Spike woke. He rolled over groggily and noticed the pad of paper Buffy had thrown to the ground. Wondering what she had written on it, he leaned off the bed and picked it up, scanning the first page.

The corner of his mouth twitched up at her emphatic declaration that he was not her mother's killer. He had been fairly certain that she had accepted it wasn't him, but he'd still worried that she might have lingering doubts in her mind about his innocence in this matter at least. Seeing that, however, put those fears of his to rest.

He flipped over to the next page then, and his smile fell again when he saw what Buffy had listed as what she didn't know.

Everything.

He'd sensed hints of her desperation earlier through the claim, but now it was clearly spelled out for him. She didn't feel like she knew anything that would really help her find her mother's killer. She was a poor, little lost lamb, his girl.

Spike put the pad of paper back on the floor and went into the bathroom, knowing Buffy was in there. He wasn't surprised to find her sitting on the edge of the sink, her head in her hands as she cried. She looked up when he walked in and wiped at her eyes. "I was going to take a shower, but I haven't yet."

Spike gave a small nod. "Are you all right?" Pointless question, he knew since clearly, she wasn't all right, but he didn't know what to do other than ask it.

"I guess." Buffy looked up at the ceiling. "God, you must be so sick of seeing me cry."

"Only in the sense that I wish you weren't sad," Spike replied. "But that's only because I don't want you hurting, not because you crying bothers me." He went to the sink and wrapped his arms around her. "We will find out who did it, Buffy. We will."

Buffy returned his embrace. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her own reflection in the mirror and the empty space where he should be, but it didn't bother her anymore. "I guess it's not like we don't have plenty of time to look," she said with an almost-nervous laugh.

"Won't take us an eternity, pet." Spike kissed the top of her head. "We'll find him soon."

Buffy lifted her head and searched Spike's eyes for a moment before asking him the question that had been plaguing her for days. "Then what, Spike?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if we do find my mom's killer, and I get my revenge—then what? Are we just going to keep bouncing from motel to motel, because that's already gotten old after a few weeks. I really don't think I could handle it for the next century or two."

Spike frowned. "I haven't thought about it," he answered honestly.

"I'm not a vampire. I can't live like one," Buffy said.

"I know." Spike stroked her cheek, his hand lingering against her warm skin. "What do you want to do, sweetheart? Do you want to settle down somewhere?"

Buffy thought for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth as she did. "I don't know," she said after the pause. "I mean, could we even settle down? Can you picture us in the 'burbs? You'd burst into flames if you tried to mow the lawn on a Sunday afternoon, and I so can't picture myself driving a minivan."

Spike chuckled. "It doesn't have to be the 'burbs, pet. You're not June, and I'm not Ward, and with me being a vampire, we can't have perfect little children. If we ever did, it would be because of some strange mystical thing and then they'd probably be some freakish hellspawn, and… No, wait, then they would be the Cleaver children."

"You're so weird," Buffy said with a giggle.

"At least I made you smile." Spike kissed her forehead, then spoke again. "We could find somewhere that suits us both, Buffy. Look around a bit, try some places on for size and see how they fit us."

"And what if we can't find that place, Spike?"

He smiled crookedly at her. "Then we'll make it ourselves." Spike smoothed down her golden hair with his hands, then moved to cup her cheeks. "Don't worry about it all now, Buffy. We've got time, and we'll work it all out."

"How can you be sure?"

His smile faltered a little, growing sad. "Because I love you."

He looked at her so intently as he said it that Buffy knew she couldn't ignore him this time. He had her face locked in place, her eyes caught by his. "Spike, I…"

"I'm not asking you to say it back, pet. I know you can't. But can you do one thing for me? Can you tell me that you know I love you? Please, just give me that much, Buffy…"

She swallowed hard. He was asking so much from her, pleading with her with his eyes as well as his words to give him something that terrified her to give. Long moments passed between them and finally, he dropped his hands and turned away.

"It's all right," he said, though the sadness in his voice told her otherwise. "I didn't really expect you to."

He tried to shield his hurt, but Buffy felt it all the same, and it cut her. Suddenly, it didn't matter so much anymore. He wasn't asking her for her heart—he was just asking her to accept his. Couldn't she do that?

"I know, Spike," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I do know."

He turned back to her, surprise and awe on his face. "Thank you."

The emotions on his face were too raw, too much for Buffy to handle, so she kissed him until she made them shift into something else.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Spike get ready to leave. "I still don't like this."

"Yeah, and I'm still doing it."

"If you find out who it is, no killing them without me," Buffy said. She wagged her finger. "I mean it, Spike."

He came over to her and kissed the tip of her nose. "You're so cute when you're homicidal."

She pushed him away with the little bit of disgust she could muster. "I'm not homicidal. I'm…vampicidal. And you'd do well to remember that, mister vampire guy."

"Yeah, I'm shakin' in my Docs." He knelt down in front of her. "If I find him tonight, I won't kill him until you've gotten to say your piece, Buffy. I can promise you that much."

Buffy nodded. That was good enough for now. "All right."

Spike kissed her then stood. He walked over to the door and stopped, then turned around to face her again. "Keep yourself open to the Claim. If you feel that there's trouble for me, run. Get out of town, as far as you can, just keep moving. I'll find you as soon as I can."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't really thought about something happening to him. Suddenly, she was on her feet and in his arms. "Be careful. Please. I need you to come home."

Her reaction almost brought tears to his eyes, but he didn't let them show. He was the Big Bad tonight, and getting misty because his mate was showing signs of caring for him wouldn't do for that. "I'll be home before daylight, pet."

"I'll be here, waiting."

Spike kissed her one more time. "I know."

*** *** ***

Thank you very much to everyone who have been reviewing. I appreciate it very much, and I'm happy to see that you're getting into the story!

Spike hadn't really expected to turn anything up the first night, but he was frustrated nonetheless when he didn't. He'd run into one dead end after another, not a single person he talked to providing him with anything close to a lead.

It was a little after two in the morning when he decided to call the night a bust. He wasn't getting anywhere, and he could feel Buffy's anxiety through the claim, making him want to get back to her. At least he'd had the chance to scope out the area, get a feel for what had changed and what hadn't since he'd last been in Los Angeles. Maybe that would give him more of an advantage tomorrow.

He was afraid that when he got back to the motel he'd have to deal with putting a look of disappointment on Buffy's face. He hated to even think about that, hated to let her down. But instead, she jumped up as soon as he came through the door and ran to him, welcoming him back with a kiss.

"Buffy, I didn't…" Spike began when she pulled away.

"I know," Buffy said. "I could get a sense of what you were feeling when you were gone, and most of it was frustration. And at one point, a whole hell of a lot of annoyance. What was that about?"

Spike groaned. "This Kaliash demon I ran into. Little bastard had nothing of importance to say, but he wouldn't bloody shut his gob. If it wasn't for that acidic blood of theirs, he so wouldn't have a head right now."

Buffy tried unsuccessfully to hide her grin. "I'm sorry, baby."

"Could've been worse," Spike said with a shrug. "Could've followed me home. Kaliash have been known to do that."

Buffy started to respond, but then stopped and blushed as her stomach rumbled. "Sorry. It's been a while since I've eaten, I guess. But there's some cold pizza in the mini fridge."

Spike paused for a moment, his head cocked, before he said, "You know, there's still a few more hours before daylight. Why don't we go find you something other than pizza to eat? Can't promise anything too good at this time of night, but at least it would be a change."

"I am so good with that," Buffy replied. "I feel like all I've eaten for days is hamburgers and pizza. Just let me put my shoes on."

"All right, luv."

Buffy kissed Spike on the cheek before she went to find her shoes.

*** *** ***

Buffy stared across the table at Spike, her own plate of pancakes untouched. After a moment, Spike looked back, his eyebrow raised. "What?"

"You're eating."

"Well, yeah. What did you think I ordered the food just to stare at it?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you just didn't want to call attention to us by not ordering anything or something. But you're actually eating it."

"And this is somehow shocking because…"

Buffy leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Because you're a vampire."

"So? That doesn't mean I can't eat regular food, Buffy. It just means it doesn't really give me any nourishment. I still need the blood for that," Spike explained.

"Then why eat it?"

"Because I like the way food tastes," Spike replied with a shrug. "Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I can't enjoy an actual meal now and then."

"Do all vampires eat human food?" Buffy asked.

"No. Some of them are very against it, thinking it degrades what it means to be a vampire, or something crazy like that. Personally, I don't care. I do what I want, and at the moment, that's to eat pancakes."

Buffy chuckled. "You rebel, you."

Spike smiled in response, his tongue curled against his teeth. "Never have been one for rules."

Buffy started eating her own food then, taking several bites before she spoke again. "So are there any particular foods you like?"

Spike swallowed what he had in his mouth. "Why do you ask?"

"I just figured I should know. I mean, with this whole claim thing, I'm sorta like your wife or something, so I guess I should know what you like to eat."

"You mean other than you?" Spike asked, his eyebrows wagging.

"Yeah," Buffy replied, her face flaming red.

"You're cute when you blush," Spike remarked. "I like spicy things, mostly. My tastebuds aren't quite like a human's, so spices keep the food from tasting bland. Spicy Buffalo wings are a personal favorite. And I also like those fried onion things that look like flowers."

"I thought vampires were supposed to stay away from onions. Like garlic. And speaking of garlic, isn't it usually in Buffalo wings?" Buffy questioned.

"And what, are you going to expect me to stop and pick up any seeds you throw on the ground, too?" Spike asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I know that one isn't true. Well, except maybe if the vampire is obsessive-compulsive. But I'd heard the garlic thing was more than a myth. It isn't?"

"I've heard of it affecting some vampires myself," Spike admitted. "But it's never been a problem for me. Maybe some vampires are so convinced that garlic hurts them that it's just psychological." He grinned. "Or they've had a run-in with holy garlic."

"Holy garlic?" Buffy asked with a giggle. "Do you throw it in with holy oregano to season Blessed Spaghetti? Sounds like vampire heartburn just waiting to happen."

"I'm pretty sure that can be fixed with Rolaids of Evil," Spike replied.

Buffy laughed. This was nice. And not only because she was finally somewhere other than a motel room—even if it was just a twenty-four hour pancake restaurant—but it was nice being there with Spike. He was being pleasant company, and when they weren't fighting, he wasn't a bad person to talk to. She stabled her pancakes with her fork, noting how they'd grown soggy from the syrup. She didn't mind that, though. She liked them that way.

"Something wrong, pet?" Spike asked after watching her for a moment. "You started looking all serious all of the sudden."

Buffy glanced back up at him. "Oh. No, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"You. Us. I like it when it's like this, when we're kidding around instead of fighting. You're nice to have around then."

"That so?" Spike asked her, his eyebrow arching.

"Yeah. You're… I don't know, you can sometimes be like…a sorta decent boyfriend, I guess."

Spike knew that in most instances, being told that you were "a sorta decent boyfriend, sometimes" would be insulting. But coming from Buffy, he could count it as one of the sweetest things she'd ever said to him. Even that much from her was nothing short of a miracle to him.

Although not quite as much as what she did next. Buffy reached across the table and took his hand, linking their fingers together before she started eating again. Spike stilled completely, staring at where their hands were joined. It was a small gesture, but it was such an intimate one that he didn't know how to react. She was holding his hand because she wanted to, and in public no less. Could he take it for what he wanted it to be—a sign that she really had come to accept what they were to each other now?

He kept thinking maybe she had, but he was afraid to get too comfortable with that assumption. She no longer fought him at every turn and no longer tried to deny their physical connection. Often times, she was actually warm to him, like that night, when she had kissed him as soon as he'd come back to their motel. She'd often cuddle up next to him when they were in bed, and more than once he'd caught her doing things like stroking his hair when she thought he was asleep.

Spike wanted to call it acceptance, though his fear was that it was actually just resignation. What if Buffy was only forcing herself to like him to make the fact that she was stuck with him a little easier to handle? He didn't want that. He wanted her concern for him to be genuine.

He watched as she began to absent-mindedly stroke his hand with her thumb, and really hoped it was.

*** *** ***

By the time they got back to the motel, Buffy was obviously tired. She'd yawned several times on the drive back, and her eyes were looking bleary. Spike knew he should just let her get some rest, but he was also still feeling the tensions from the night, and needed her to help him relax. "Kitten?"

Buffy looked up from where she was seated on the edge of the bed to take off her shoes. "Yeah?"

"Are you too tired for a shag, or…"

She frowned slightly, the question surprising her for a couple of reasons. For one thing, she'd never known Spike to ask for sex. Usually he just pounced on her if he wanted it. And furthermore, she wasn't feeling much lust from him through the claim. Not that there was none there—she didn't think Spike was ever not at least a little horny, even when they'd been at it for hours—but it wasn't as high as it normally was when he wanted to begin. "Why?" she asked.

"I need a release," Spike answered honestly. "Dinner with you was nice, but I'm still feeling all tense and frustrated from the rest of the night, and I just need…" Spike trailed off and looked down, suddenly feeling overly needy and a little pathetic for asking like this. "Never mind."

Buffy rose to her feet, walked over to Spike, and wrapped her arms around his hips. "Don't worry that you didn't find anything out tonight, honey. It was only your first time out. You didn't let me down."

"But I didn't get anything, not even something that could possibly be helpful, and… Wait, did you just call me honey?"

"I might have," Buffy said with a teasing grin. She pulled back and took his hands. "Come on. Let's go take care of that tension of yours."

Spike smiled and let Buffy lead him closer to the bed. She stopped just shy of pulling them both down and let go of his hands. Spike was about to ask what she was doing, when she pulled his t-shirt out from the waistband of his jeans. He raised his arms and let her lift the shirt of his head and toss it to the ground. As soon as she had his chest bare, Buffy's mouth went to the skin she'd revealed, covering him with kisses, licks, and nips. Spike groaned, his hands balled in tight fists at his side as he fought to keep allowing her to move at her own pace. It felt too good to rush.

Buffy rose on to her toes and moved her mouth to his neck, covering it with quick but sharp bites. Spike's eyes rolled back and he moaned loudly, her actions causing him to grow painfully hard in his jeans.

"Feeling any more relaxed?" Buffy whispered in his ear.

Spike nodded, not sure he could speak. Buffy hadn't done much at all, really, but what she had done had been exactly right. She had set the sort of mood he wanted, and her every touch, every kiss, had done exactly what it was supposed to do.

That knowledge brought with it the sudden realization that in a few weeks, Buffy had learned his body in a way that Drusilla never truly had, and somehow, he thought it was from more than just the fact that they had the claim between them.

"You do? But then what about this?" Buffy cupped his erection through his jeans and gave him a squeeze. "This doesn't feel relaxed at all. Whatever should I do about that?"

Spike shivered. "I think you know the answer to that, kitten," he replied, thick desire coating his voice.

She went to his neck again, giving it a slow lick before she asked softly against his ear, "Would it feel all better inside my pussy, baby?"

"God, yes," Spike replied with another loud moan.

Buffy pulled away from him and slipped off her clothes before lying down on the bed. She spread her legs without shame, letting Spike see how wet she was already. She glistened in the dim light of the bedside lamp, and Spike trembled with the anticipation of filling her. Quickly, he took off his boots and jeans, then joined her, pressing his body down on top of hers.

She hooked her legs over his hips, urging him inside of her, and Spike immediately took the invitation. He groaned low in his throat as Buffy's breath hitched, and he slid home.

Spike stilled for a moment, panting. The feel of her surrounding him always took a bit to get used to, the pleasure from just the first thrust almost too much.

"Feeling better now?" Buffy asked, her foot curling up to massage his calf.

"Yes…fuck, pet…feels so bloody good."

Buffy moaned and thrust her hips as much as she could with him pushing down on top of her. "You like how hot it is inside me, don't you, baby? You like how my pussy's all warm and pulsing…"

Spike nodded vigorously, hearing her talk to him like that turning him on immensely. Aside from her usual moans and screams, Buffy was never particularly vocal during sex, and he liked this bit of something new.

"Do you know what I like?" Buffy asked, her hands coming up to scratch long, red marks down his chest. Spike shook his head this time, wanting to hear her answer. "I like how cold you are. You make me feel like there's a fire inside of me, and only your cool, hard cock can quench it."

At that, Spike's control snapped completely, and he began to piston in and out of her wildly, grunting as he did. His nostrils flared, catching the heady scent of his mate's arousal, and it spurred him on, making him thrust harder. Still, Buffy kept up with him, her hips rising to meet his every time. Her fingernails scratched and clawed his back, and the pain mixed with the scent of blood made Spike's demon come to the surface, his amber eyes staring down at Buffy.

Buffy didn't shy away from his gaze, didn't care that the man on top of her was now visibly a demon. Instead, she urged him on, begged him for more.

"Spike! Yeah…fuck me just like that… Yes, yes… Uhn…there…yeah… Oh god, fuck me hard, baby, fuck me so hard… Oh, Spike!"

The last scream of his name coincided with the clamp of her inner muscles around his cock as she came hard. Spike thrust one more time before he roared with release.

They collapsed together in a heap, both breathing heavily despite the fact only one of them needed the oxygen. After a moment, Spike rolled them over, nuzzling himself against her side.

Buffy tenderly kissed the ridges of his brow. "Did that relax you enough?"

His features shifted with her question, human again. "Oh, yeah. Bloody hell, luv, you were hot."

"I didn't sound all cheesy? I'm always afraid if I talk dirty, I'll sound cheesy, but you seemed to like it, so I kept going."

"Buffy, sweetheart, any time you want to beg me to fuck you hard, please, be my guest. I'm a man. I don't give a damn about cheesy."

She smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."

Spike curled more against her, a small smile on his lips as his eyes closed. Buffy regarded him for a moment, deciding he reminded her of a big, contented cat. Like a tiger that was willing to let you rub its belly. She brushed a kiss against his hair, then lay her head down on the pillow and fell asleep.

*** *** ***

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Every night for the past week, Spike had gone out right after sundown. Buffy tried not to feel restless and impatient. She knew Spike was doing the best he could, and she was grateful that he was even trying. But still, sitting around the motel night after night just waiting was taking its toll.

She sighed, flipping through channel after channel of the nothing that tended to be on at this hour. She'd hoped that when they'd been able to move into a room with a working television that maybe at least that would keep her occupied while she waited for him to come back, but it rarely helped her boredom. Apparently, the general point of view for the people that decided on programming was that if you were awake at this hour, then you were in search of a cure for insomnia as opposed to actual entertainment.

She supposed she could go to sleep. Despite the fact that she usually stayed asleep well into the afternoon, Buffy also tended to spend most of her waking hours having sex with an insatiable vampire, which was cause for exhaustion. But with Spike out, she couldn't manage to rest. Instead, she waited and worried, keeping the connection the claim formed open between them so she could get a sense of whether or not he was in any sort of trouble.

Needing some sort of distraction from how slowly the clock seemed to be moving, Buffy went over to the mini-fridge and pulled out the pint of ice cream she had in there. She'd noticed recently that she had put on some weight since she'd gotten with Spike, though she thought she probably still classified as underweight. But her bones weren't sticking out the way they once had, and that was a start. Despite what fashion magazines tried to tell her, she hadn't liked being that skeletal.

She brought the ice cream back to the bed and ate it from the container as she went back to waiting for Spike.

*** *** ***

"Hey, are you the guy that's been lookin' for the vamp that did in that Slayer back in '85?"

Spike grew rigid for a moment, the question taking him by surprise. He'd been just about to give up on this particular bar for the night. He turned and faced the man who had asked it. The man looked human enough on the outside, albeit an unkempt human, but his scent told Spike this was definitely a demon. "I might be. Who's asking and why?"

"Name's Louie," the demon said. "And I'm askin' 'cause I might have some information—if you've got payment, that is."

Spike lifted Louie off the ground by his neck as he slipped into gameface. "I don't rip out your liver and feed it to you. That payment enough?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's good," Louie choked, gasping for breath as his legs kicked in the air.

Spike set him back down. "Right then. Spill."

"There's this vamp, calls himself Mack. Word on the street is, he's the one."

"Do you have any sort of proof other than that?" Spike asked.

Louie shook his head. "No. I just heard, is all. Mack's been in L.A. for years now, got himself a real sweet set-up, lots of minions. People say he got that from killin' a Slayer. Gave him a rep."

"Right then. Can you tell me where I can find this Mack?"

"Sure, sure. I know where he nests. I can give you the address."

Spike knew it was a long shot—and possibly even a trap—but it was the only thing he'd gotten that even resembled a lead, and he was going to take it. "All right then, Louie—give me what you got."

*** *** ***

Spike sat in the driver's seat of his car, the engine idling, as he stared down at the cocktail napkin Louie had given him with Mack's supposed address. It was nearby, at it would be quicker if he drove straight there now instead of going back to the motel. Besides, going back would mean having to take Buffy with him since there was no way she'd let him go alone.

The part of him that was her mate didn't like that at all. Louie had told him Mack had lots of minions, and bringing Buffy along could get her hurt. None of them would be able to bite her with his marks on her, but there were plenty of things a vampire could do to hurt someone that didn't involve fangs. He knew that very well.

But he also knew that Buffy would feel that it was important for her to accompany him. If Mack did turn out to be her mother's killer, she'd want to be there. Hell, she'd want to be the one who did the dusting.

Bringing her with him would put her in danger. Not bringing her with him would upset her and possibly drive a wedge between them again.

Cursing under his breath, Spike drove out of the parking lot.

*** *** ***

Buffy could tell something was going on. Since Spike had started going out searching for leads on her mother's death, his emotions had tended to stay in the neighborhood of either frustrated or disappointed. Now there was something else, though his mind was so jumbled up it was hard for her to pinpoint exactly what.

By the time she felt him returning to the motel room, Buffy was up and dressed, pacing back and forth as she waited. The closer he got, the more anxious she grew, and by the time he was actually at the door, she felt as if she were about to jump out of her skin.

Spike was a little surprised to find her pacing the hotel room, but then he realized he hadn't even attempted to shield his emotions through the claim, and that Buffy looked about how he felt. "C'mon, kitten," he said, deciding to cut to the chase. "We've got a lead."

Buffy's only response was a nod as she followed Spike out of the motel. They were silent as well in the car, the tension seeming so thick that Buffy decided to hold her questions. Spike would tell her what she needed to know when it was time.

She frowned a little when she realized how much trust she'd put in Spike by thinking that, but then quickly pushed that thought away. She had more important things to deal with right then.

Spike brought the DeSoto into the parking lot of an old warehouse, then cut off the engine and turned to Buffy. "I need you to stay in the car now. There's a vamp in there, might be the one that killed your mum, but I'm not positive. The source wasn't the greatest I've ever known. But he also said this bloke's got himself some minions, and if I walk in there with you, it's going to be a fight."

"So what's the plan then?" Buffy asked. "Spike, if this is the guy that killed my mom, I want to…"

"I know," Spike said, cutting her off. "I'm going to try to get him out here. I don't fancy fighting my way through minions when there could be an easier way."

"You want me to sit out here and wait for you to bring the vampire out?"

Spike nodded. "Can you do that, Buffy?" If he'd been breathing, he would've held his breath. Everything was too up in the air for her to pick now to be willful.

"I can do that," Buffy told him. "Just…try to be quick."

He smiled with relief. "I will, pet." Spike reached under his seat and dug around until he found what he was looking for, then handed it to Buffy. "For if you get harassed by a vampire that's not me."

Buffy tightened her hand around the stake. It surprised her a little at first to know that Spike traveled with a stake, but then she realized it was probably a smart thing for a vampire to do. It's not like they could trust their own kind at all times. Hell, Spike was planning to betray another vampire as they spoke. "I know what to do, Spike."

"I know you do. Just wanted to make sure you were armed, is all. You're claimed as mine, so another vampire can't drink you, but that doesn't mean they can't hurt you."

"Just go, get him out here, okay? I'll sit in the car and wait. And if any vampires that aren't you harass me, I'll make them all dusty. Present company excluded, I really am good at that."

Spike chuckled low in his throat. "All right, kitten. I'll be back as soon as I can." He leaned in and kissed her, taking a moment to savor the feel of his mate before he faced the uncertainty he'd find in the warehouse.

For a moment after they broke apart, they were silent, their eyes locked. Spike held Buffy's face in his hand, his thumb caressing her cheek. She was the first to pull away, her gaze turning down to the floorboards, and Spike thought for a moment that he might have been able to make out a blush on her cheeks in the darkness. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he told her again before he slipped out of the car.

Buffy gripped the stake tightly in her hand as she watched him go.

*** *** ***

Spike would've bet good money that the minion he encountered at the door to the warehouse had been a bouncer before he was turned. He was big and imposing, his shiny bald head glistening in the harsh gleam of the security light. He glared at Spike with amber eyes, beefy arms crossed over an equally beefy chest. "The master ain't lookin' for no company."

Despite the superior size of the other vampire, Spike wasn't at all intimidated. His senses were telling him that this vampire might have height and muscle on him, but he didn't have age, and Spike refused to be intimidated by a fledgling. "Well, you can tell your master that William the Bloody wishes to speak to him. I'll wait."

The bouncer vamp's face was impassive as he shut the door and disappeared back into the warehouse. Spike waited impatiently, tapping his booted foot and hoping that he wouldn't have to end up just busting in. Normally, he wouldn't care one way or another, but this was for Buffy, which meant he needed to do it right.

The vampire came back a few minutes later, announcing as he opened the door, "The master will see you."

Spike gave a nod and stepped into the warehouse, his leather duster sweeping behind him. He followed the large vampire through the dark, the sounds of music coming from just up ahead. When they reached the main part of the warehouse, Spike found that he'd apparently crashed a party. Vampires filled the large space, reminding Spike of an evil nightclub—which furthered his bouncer theory.

A few humans had apparently been brought in as well, as Spike turned away in disgust as he saw them being savagely fed on. Then he realized that that shouldn't disgust him, and his stomach turned more. Since when did he feel ill at the sight of vampires feeding?

He decided to chalk it up to the way the vampires were feeding. There was no need to be quite that messy about it. Wasted too much blood, for one thing.

"The famous William the Bloody! What a surprise to find you at my door!"

Spike turned towards the sound of the voice, fighting to roll his eyes at his first glimpse of Mack. The vampire couldn't even be half a century, though the way he was sprawled out in a throne of all things, he must've thought he was practically an ancient. He had a scantily clad female vampire on either side of him, one holding a golden chalice full of blood that she periodically raised to Mack's lips.

Spike began to doubt the validity of his information even more. This did not look like the sort of vampire that could take out the longest-lived Slayer in history. Spike had fought Joyce several times, and this vamp would've have even posed a challenge for her. He was pathetic, a minion trying to play master. A bit insulting, too, for someone who had reached the status Spike had in the vampire world by actually earning it.

"Yeah, well, I was in town, and I heard something interesting about you. Thought I'd check up on it," Spike said, his stance full-out cocky swagger. He may have not been as tall as the bald vampire that had led him in, but when it came down to it, that didn't mean much of anything. He was a master vampire from the most powerful Order, and the Slayer of Slayers on top of that. Not a vampire in there could compete with him, not even master-wannabe Mack.

"Did you now?" Mack asked, shooing away the chalice as it came up again. "And what was that?"

"I heard you took out a Slayer a few years ago, right here in Los Angeles."

Mack grinned, his fangs glinting. "You heard right then. Longest-lived Slayer in history. Apparently she'd been giving lots of other vampires some trouble, you included."

Spike fought hard to keep his anger in check at the smug look on Mack's face now. Reacting like that wouldn't get him what he needed. He had to appear humble if his plan was to work.

Humbling himself in front of this loser… Spike really hoped Buffy appreciated all he did for her.

Spike moved closer to the throne. "Right. She did. Seems that you succeeded where I failed time and time again. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Mack sat up straighter. "Oh?"

"Yeah, see…" Spike dropped his voice, trying his best to sound ashamed. "I'm the Slayer of Slayers, you know, but I just couldn't seem to get the best of this one. I've been real down on my game since then, not able to find the confidence I need to keep taking on Slayers. Fought one in Sunnydale not too long ago, and she gave me nothing but trouble, too. I thought maybe…" Spike swallowed, the next words out of his mouth some of the hardest he'd ever had to say. "I thought maybe you could give me some pointers."

Glee was evident on Mack's face. "You want me to tell you how to kill Slayers? Seriously?"

Spike nodded. "Clearly, you know something that I don't."

"Okay then, I'll tell you all about how I bested the Slayer. See…"

"No," Spike said quickly. "Not here. You think maybe we could have this conversation in private? I've got a reputation to protect, you know."

"Oh, sure," Mack said, rising awkwardly from his throne. "Come on. There's a place back here where we can talk."

Spike nodded, but said nothing as he followed Mack out of the main room. That had gone unbelievably smoothly, and he hoped that as he went off alone with the other vampire that he wasn't the one being played for a fool.

*** *** ***

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Spike stared at Mack for several seconds after the vampire related his epic tale of how he'd beaten a Slayer. It was a lovely story, really, one that had the polished edges of one that had been perfected after thirteen years worth of retellings.

Only there was one major flaw. Spike had known Joyce. He had fought her. He knew there was no way she would've engaged in such a grand battle with a vampire like Mack. The more Spike listened to the wannabe master vampire, the more evident it became. Even before he had fought her, Spike had studied Joyce, learned her habits and her style. Vampires like Mack were just the warm-up act for her. If he had killed her, it would've been because he'd gotten lucky, caught her when she'd already been weakened by something or someone else—not because Mack had been able to best her in some great test of strength and skill.

Tired of being lied to, Spike advanced towards Mack. Mack stepped backwards in an attempt to get away, the fear obvious on his face. That alone was enough to tell Spike the story he'd just heard was a load of bollocks. If this vampire had bravely stood his ground against a Slayer—especially one of Joyce's caliber—he'd have to have a backbone. Mack, it seemed, did not.

Mack kept moving until his back hit the wall, and Spike crossed the rest of the way quickly. He pinned Mack into place, shifting into gameface as he did and staring Mack down with cold, amber eyes.

Mack shook, fear overtaking him as he stared into the face of a true master vampire. "I told you want you wanted to know!" Mack exclaimed, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"No, you didn't," Spike growled. "What I wanted was the truth, and what I got was complete and utter shite. I fought Joyce on more than one occasion, and I couldn't have pulled off what you just described. Now, seeing as I am a real vampire and you are a sniveling excuse for a demon, I'm going to wager that you couldn't possibly accomplish what I could not without a bit of an unfair advantage. So, I'm going to give you one chance to tell me what really happened."

"I told you!" Mack insisted. "It went down just like that!"

Spike sighed. "Right then." He grabbed Mack's right hand and twisted one of the fingers until it broke with an audible snap. "I've got nine more until I have to start moving on to other things."

"Fine! I'll tell you what really happened!" Mack said, his face contorted in pain. "There were these guys, smelled human. They said they wanted a Slayer taken care of, and they'd set me up real nice if I did it. They did something to her before, made her real weak. That's how I did it, all right? The Slayer was drugged."

Spike leveled his eyes with Mack's. This story had more the feel of truth to it, but it brought forth more questions than it gave answers. If Mack's new version of events was indeed accurate, then Joyce's death had been from something other than a mere vampire attack. She'd been purposely taken out.

"Is there a back door to this place?" Spike asked.

"Yeah, but why…"

Spike didn't let Mack finish his question. "Lead the way to it. We're leaving. And if you try anything to cause me trouble, I will rip off your head and piss on your dust. Are we clear?"

Mack nodded. "Completely clear."

"Good. Now let's get moving."

Mack swallowed hard, then led Spike out of the warehouse.

*** *** ***

Spike tossed Mack into the backseat of the DeSoto, then looked up at Buffy. "Come back here and keep your stake on him, luv. If he tries to run, dust him."

"Who is she?" Mack asked, frowning at Buffy.

"She's my mate," Spike replied. "And that Slayer you say you killed was her mum."

If it was possible for a vampire to grow paler, Mack did. Buffy climbed into the backseat, her stake pointed at Mack's heart.

"Did he kill her, Spike?" Buffy asked.

"I think so," Spike answered, meeting his mate's eyes. "But seems like there's a bit more to it than that. I think we should take him back to the motel, get him to spill there."

Buffy gave a nod of approval, her hand tightening around the stake.

Spike started to go around to the driver's seat, but stopped and grabbed Mack by the back of the head. "She's my mate, and if you touch her, I will torture you slowly. See how many pieces of you I have to cut up before you dust," he growled into Mack's ear.

Mack's only response was to look terrified. Spike decided that was good enough and pushed him back into the car before slamming the door.

*** *** ***

Mack didn't move for the entire drive, afraid if he as much as shifted, he'd be dust. The girl with the stake at his chest smelled human, but he did have enough sense to recognize if she was the mate of William the Bloody, then challenging her would not be a smart choice to make. Even if she couldn't kill him, the vampire in the front seat certainly could. And he'd make him suffer.

When they got to the motel, Spike and Buffy led Mack out of the car and to their room. "Sit," Spike ordered as soon as they were inside, gesturing to one of the chairs as he did. Mack sat.

"Tell her what you told me," Spike said to Mack. "And the real story, not that complete load of bollocks you started off with. She's less fond of games than I am."

Mack trembled, a sinking suspicion in the pit of his stomach that he wasn't going to leave this room no matter what he did. Still, he was too afraid of the two blonds staring him down to refuse to talk. "There were guys, human, I think. I didn't ask a lot of questions. They told me they could make the Slayer weak, drug her somehow, and that they wanted me to kill her. They said they needed it to be a vampire. They told me where she'd be and when, and told me to leave the body there."

Buffy felt bile rise into her throat. It had been hard enough thinking of her mother as being killed in battle doing her duty, but now to hear that she'd been the victim of a murder conspiracy… Her mother had been a warrior. She deserved a better death than that. In a strange way, Buffy almost wished it had been Spike if her mother had had to die that night. At least that would've been a death befitting a Slayer.

"I need to you give me more than that," Buffy said, holding back her urge to attack the vampire sitting in front of her, to make him suffer for not only killing her mother but for killing her in such a dishonorable way.

"I don't know anything else!" Mack replied. "I swear, I don't! I didn't care about the whys or whos. I was just happy to get the respect that comes with doing in a Slayer!"

"Describe them," Buffy snapped. "You did see the men you made this deal with, didn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. There were three of them. Kinda craggy looking, like they were real rough types. All wearing leather jackets. And they talked with an accent. Like his." Mack jerked his thumb at Spike.

Something cold grabbed Buffy in the pit of her stomach. "They were British?"

"Yeah, British," Mack said. "They reminded me of guys in a James Bond movie. I kept hearing them talk about having to check in with headquarters."

"Do you remember anything else they talked about?" Spike asked.

"No. It was a real brief meeting, and like I said, I didn't ask a lot of questions."

Buffy moved so quickly that Spike hadn't even anticipated it, and suddenly, Mack was a pile of dust, littering the chair and the floor around it. Spike turned to her, surprise on his face. "Why did you do that now?" he asked, surprise in his tone. "He'd just started talking!"

Buffy's expression was cold. "He'd said enough. I didn't need to hear any more."

"But, Buffy…"

"No. I heard what I needed. Come on." Buffy turned and started towards the door.

"Where are we going exactly?" Spike asked, When Buffy didn't answer, but just walked out of the motel room, he ran after her, grabbing her arm to stop her. "Sweetheart, talk to me. What just happened in there that I missed?"

"I know who was behind my mother's death, Spike. To be honest, I'd had my suspicions in the past, but I didn't want to believe it. Now I need some sort of proof, something that tells me I'm wrong, or I'm right, or something."

The mix of emotions Spike was feeling from her through the claim was such a jumble he couldn't pick it apart enough to tell what was what. "Where do you need to go, Buffy?"

"My old apartment, the one I lived in with Howard until he died. I know how to get there from here, so I can give you directions," she answered.

Spike didn't argue. He just hoped whatever it was Buffy thought she'd find there was indeed there. "Then let's go."

*** *** ***

When they reached the apartment, Spike started to ask Buffy what the planned to do next, when she answered his still unasked question by smashing in a window with her fist.

"Bloody hell!" he hissed. "Are you insane? For one thing, you're bleeding now, and for another, you just woke up whoever lives there!"

Buffy said nothing as she reached in through the broken glass and unlocked the window, then pushed it open and crawled inside. A moment later, she poked her head back out. "No one lives here. It's empty. Someone must've just moved out. Come on."

She disappeared into the apartment again, and Spike followed her in, noting that she was right about no one living there since there was no barrier against him. Spike looked at Buffy, her figure illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the broken window, and swallowed hard. He hadn't seen her quite like this since the beginning, when she'd been trying to kill him. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone now—getting revenge for the death of her mother.

"What are you looking for?" Spike asked her.

Buffy glanced around the apartment, and Spike realized that strength and healing weren't the only abilities she'd picked up from him—she was seeing in the dark much better than any human should be able to as well. "Howard kept a journal. I looked for it in his stuff when he died, but I couldn't find it."

"And you think it might still be here?"

"If they didn't get it, yeah."

Spike frowned. "Who's they?"

Buffy didn't answer. Instead, she began to walk through the apartment, knocking on walls as she did. Spike followed her, keeping his questions to himself as he got the sense that Buffy wasn't going to answer them now. She left bloodied prints in her wake, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her hand was cut from the window.

Spike followed her into one of the bedrooms, watching as she ducked into the closet. He heard a series of taps in there, the last one with a hollow sound to it. A moment later, he winced at another sound, this one of the wall breaking under Buffy's fist. He hoped she hadn't used the same hand that had smashed the window, but Spike had a feeling she probably had.

Soon, Buffy came from the closet, her arms wrapped around leather-bound journals. She walked to the middle of the room, sat down in a patch of light coming in through the window from a streetlamp just outside, and began to flip through the journals. Spike stood and watched her, unsure of what he should do. Buffy was almost scaring him now, her behavior and her seeming lack of emotions enough to chill him.

That was before she burst into tears.

Unable to stand by and watch her cry, Spike knelt beside Buffy and gathered her in his arms. She turned towards him, clinging to him as she sobbed.

*** *** ***

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Spike wasn't sure how long he sat on the floor of the empty apartment with Buffy in his arms. She cried like someone who had just lost something vital, all the while clinging to him tightly, using him as her tether. Spike wanted to be able to say something, do something, that would quell the pain he felt rushing through her, but knew there was nothing. So he held her.

Eventually, Buffy pulled back a little, and Spike's unbeating heart broke at the sight of her red, tearstained face. Buffy sniffled, and Spike wiped at her damp cheeks with his thumb. "Kitten?"

Buffy's throat felt too dry, too tight for her to speak, so she pointed to the journal still spread out in front of them. Spike picked it up off the floor and read the entry silently, a chill going through him as the suspicions he'd had since Buffy had staked Mack back in the motel room were confirmed.



May 12, 1985

I'm afraid my Slayer has done something unconscionable. For some time, I have worried about her. Although, Joyce excels in her duties as the Chosen One, as she has grown from the girl I was sent to find after her Calling into the young woman she is today, she has begun to question the directives of the Council. She frequently ignores their orders, and her reckless ways have also begun to influence Rupert Giles, a promising young Watcher who some believe may take an active Slayer himself someday, as his father and grandmother before him did.

I've tried to put my faith in Joyce, but after tonight I've come to believe that the Council may have been correct in their worries. She has made a pact with a most vile creature, a vampire known as William the Bloody. I implored her not to leave with him this evening, but she refused, insisting that it was the right thing to do. I cannot see how such an unholy alliance can ever be right, even to defeat a foe such as the demon Ashmalare, who has been plaguing my Slayer for days now. Surely this vampire, who has already attempted to end her life in the past, is in truth working for the demon. If Joyce is so willing to believe that working with a vampire will help her in any way, then she must truly be as far gone as the Council has been insisting.

A week ago, a delegation from the Council arrived in Los Angeles asking for me to hand over control of my Slayer to them, but I have refused them until tonight. As I write, they are seeking her out, and I know that they will do what needs to be done to see that the Chosen One again behaves in a way befitting her title.



May 13, 1985

My Slayer is gone. She was found this morning with the marks of a vampire on her neck.

I have not yet told Buffy the news, and I do not know how I shall. Already, she is asking for her mother, and I do not have the heart to tell the child she is now but an orphan in this world, the only parent who had remained in her life now dead.

The Council has allowed me to stay here in California to care for the child, and I will do so. It's the least I can do after what I've done.

I didn't mean… I didn't know…

Joyce, I'm so sorry…


Spike closed the journal and pulled Buffy back into his arms. "I trusted him," Buffy said after a few moments. "He's been the only family I've known for years, and he was the one who betrayed her."

"I know." Spike tightened his arms around her. "Buffy, I'm so sorry. For my part in it. I didn't think this would…"

He stopped when Buffy looked up, confused. "Your part? What do you mean?"

"Her Watcher, he did what he did because of the truce Joyce made with me. If I hadn't…"

Buffy shook her head. "No. The Council already wanted her gone, Spike. If they'd sent people here to kill her, then they would have eventually whether she'd made that deal with you or not. That night… You helped her." Buffy pulled up, moving slightly away from him, though not completely. "The Council did this. They're who I need to make pay."

Spike blinked. "Buffy, I know you want vengeance, and I do get that, but taking on the entire Watchers' Council? That's more than we can handle, pet."

"Spike, this is more than just vengeance for my mother now. The Watchers' Council had a Slayer murdered. They set her up so a vampire could kill her. Who knows what else they could do—what else they have done. I owe it to my mother to make sure this doesn't remain hidden. Maybe if I can find someway to expose this level of corruption in the Council then her death wouldn't have been for nothing."

"Then what are we going to do about it?" Spike asked. If this was what Buffy needed to do, then he was by her side, no matter how crazy it was.

"I don't know yet. I'm tired." She shook her head. "God, I'm so tired."

"Do you want to go back to motel?"

"No," Buffy replied. "I don't want to go back in there. I can't. He's…"

Buffy didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to. Spike knew. Mack's dust. The vampire may have been part of a conspiracy, but he was still the one who had actually taken Joyce's life.

"How about this then? We go back, you stay in the car while I get your things out of the room, and then we'll find a new motel for the night. Would that be all right?"

"Yes." Buffy gathered the journals in her arms and then rose to her feet, leading Spike out of the apartment.

*** *** ***

Buffy was completely silent as they drove to pick up her things from the first motel, and still silent on the way to the next. When Spike parked the car for the night, she didn't move, just stared blankly ahead, and Spike felt worry rise up from the pit of his stomach.

He hated that he couldn't fix this for her, make the pain she was feeling over Howard's betrayal go away. But even with the claim, he knew he couldn't really fathom all she must be feeling right now. To be told that a person you trusted to the level Buffy must've Howard had done something like this… Spike shuddered, aching for the woman he loved.

Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned suddenly towards him, startled, as if she'd forgotten where she was. "Let's go inside where you can rest, all right, luv?"

Buffy nodded slowly, then got out of the car, following Spike into the room. As soon as they were inside, Buffy stripped off her clothes and got into the bed, curling her body up under the covers. Spike followed suit and joined her, turning out the lights as he did.

He rolled her over and gathered her in his arms, keeping her close to him. For a long while, they stayed like that, Buffy silent and unmoving in his embrace.

Then, the tears began. Softly at first, then the dam broke and she was sobbing. Soon, she was nearly hysterical, choking as she fought to breathe through her cries. Spike pulled her upright with him, his strong hand rubbing her back, trying to calm her. Still, her fit didn't subside, and Spike began to worry for more than just her emotional state. She was gasping now, seemingly to barely manage lungfuls of air between body-wracking sobs.

Spike lifted her up from the bed as he stood and carried her into the bathroom. Holding Buffy to him with one hand, he turned the shower on with the other and then brought them both in under the warm stream of water.

Her legs were too shaky to allow either of them to stand, and Spike guided her down to the bottom of the tub. The majority of the water hit his back, but some of it washed over her, and he was relieved to see that it seemed to be having the calming effect he was hoping for. Her crying began to slow until the sobs were gone, and it was just a steady stream of tears again.

He wished he could take away her tears completely, but knew that wasn't an option now, not after what that night had brought them.

When she seemed as if she was calm enough, Spike reached behind him and turned off the shower, then lifted Buffy back up, cradling her in his arms. He dried them both off with the hotel towels, paying close attention to her hair. He knew she hated the feel of the ends dripping on her after she got out of the shower.

Spike went back into the bedroom and got her brush from her bag, then took her over to the edge of the bed and sat her in his lap. Gently, he brushed the tangles from her hair, then squeezed the excess water from it with the towel one more time.

When he set the brush and damp towel down on the carpet, Buffy turned and buried her head against his chest. She was no longer crying, but Spike could feel the pain still there inside of her, and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her close.

She soon began to tremble, the cool air chilling her bare skin, prompting Spike to lift her up and bring her back to the other end of the bed where they could slide under the covers. Buffy nuzzled against him, and Spike was relieved when she fell asleep, her body too exhausted for her to remain awake any longer.

He kissed the top of her head, whispering his love for her softly against the golden strands before he joined her in slumber.

*** *** ***

Buffy didn't want to wake up. She felt safe and warm where she was, but there was something itching at the back of her mind, reminding her that once she opened her eyes and let full consciousness return she wouldn't feel the same.

But she couldn't fight it. Soon, she was awake, and she remembered everything she'd learned the night before.

After so many years of wondering, of the terrible emptiness of not knowing tearing at her, she now knew. She'd found her answer, but she hadn't found peace.

Be careful what you wish for, Buffy… she thought bitterly. Last night, she had dusted the vampire who had taken her mother's life, but it hadn't afforded her any of what she'd believed that act would. She'd also learned on whose shoulders the blame for her mother's murder truly rested, but there had been no comfort in knowing that either. If anything, the horrible truth she'd learned had been worse than not knowing.

It had seemed apparent in the journal that Howard had not been directly involved in Joyce's murder, but that did not absolve him of his guilt. He had known at least in part what he was doing by handing his Slayer over to the Council, and Buffy had no doubt that he knew what they were capable of. He had to have known there was at least a chance that the Council would take the steps they had, and was therefore, in Buffy's eyes, just as responsible for her mother's death as Mack had been.

The one person she wouldn't blame was the one in the bed with her then. Despite Spike's truce with Joyce being the reason Howard had cited for deciding to betray his Slayer, Buffy saw no way that that made Spike responsible for Joyce's death. Under that logic, Giles would be responsible for it, too, since Howard had also mentioned the younger Watcher's relationship with Joyce as a reason for the Council's displeasure with her.

No, the Council had acted not because of Joyce's decisions. Not really. Buffy had gotten a glimpse of enough of the Council's politics in her life to know where the conflict had truly arisen. Joyce had not been playing by their rules, and had therefore stripped away from them their power. That was why she had died. Not because of any truce she made or relationship she had, but because she had tried to take power away from a group of greedy bastards who rebelled at the loss of control.

Buffy knew taking on the Council could turn out to be a suicide mission, but it was a risk she was willing to take. They had stolen something from her, and from her mother as well. They were living off the power of the Slayer, and that stirred something inside of her, a primal anger on her mother's behalf. She needed to get to them, to let them know that this power was not theirs. It belonged to the Slayer.

It had belonged to her mother.

Buffy was not a Slayer herself, but she was strong, and she could still stand up for them. If the Council could so easily move in and arrange the death of a Slayer they felt had gotten out of hand, then she doubted it had been the first time. If they were capable of that, then they were just as evil as the demons the Slayers faced every day.

And they were human.

Buffy's world was shifting, the black and white it had been melting into each other, forming a gray she hadn't been able to acknowledge in the past. But she couldn't think about it then, couldn't give voice to what she was feeling. She had a concrete mission now, something real to fight. She'd already decided on her first step.

It was time to return to the Hellmouth.

*** *** ***

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"Have you gone completely daft?"

Buffy sighed, though Spike's response had been exactly the one she'd been expecting. From the incredulous look on his face, to the way he'd jumped up from the bed to pace, to the very question he'd just asked her. If she weren't trying to be serious, she would've giggled at how well she was able to guess his reactions to things. Maybe someday when she was bored she'd test herself, do and say things to him to see if she was right in her predicted outcomes.

But she had more important things to focus on now. Like convincing Spike they needed to go back to Sunnydale. She stood up, watching him as he moved back and forth in front of her.

"No, I haven't gone 'daft,'" Buffy said, rolling her eyes as she did. "I need to get to the Council, Spike, and right now the only link I have to them that I can trust is Giles."

"How do you even know you can trust him?" Spike shot back, stopping his pacing to focus his attention on her. "Pet, he's one of them. For all we know, he had a part in Joyce's death."

Buffy shook her head. "No. He didn't. Trust me, Spike, he loved my mother. I could feel it in the way he talked about her, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't have been able to betray her anymore than I could ever betray you." Buffy cleared her throat, her cheeks coloring slightly. "'Cause, you know, of the claim. The claim wouldn't let me betray you."

Spike's scarred eyebrow arched. Even with her tacked on addendum, Spike had heard something there that he wanted to believe too much to actually let himself believe. "That so?" he asked her.

"Yeah. The claim's gotta have some sort of 'no betrayal' rule. Anyway, Sunnydale—we need to go there."

Reluctantly, Spike didn't press her. All that ever seemed to do was make her close off more. "Sweetheart, even if Nancy's Watcher wouldn't betray you to the Council, we still have Angelus to worry about. If we're back in town, he'll come after us."

Buffy's hands went to her hips. "So, what, you're going to let fear of Angelus dictate what you do now?"

Something flickered in Spike's eyes, but he shook it off. "I know what you're doing there," he said, pointing at her with an accusatory finger. "And it's not going to work."

"So you are going to keep hiding from Angelus like a big scaredy vamp?"

"I'm not scared of him, Buffy," Spike snapped. "I'm scared for you. After what went down back in Sunnydale, Angelus is going to want to kill you."

"So we'll take him on if he does," Buffy replied. "Between the two of us, I'm pretty sure we could kick his ass."

Spike's concern for his mate kept him from grinning at that. "Possibly, but I don't like taking unnecessary chances where you're concerned. You're the only thing in the world that means anything to me."

Buffy reached out and took his hand. "I know, honey, and I'm not planning on taking any crazy risks, okay? I'm not saying we should go hunt down Angelus and poke him with a stick until he attacks us. But I need to see Giles. He's my best link to the Council, and if that means I have to go into the same town that Angelus is in, then that's what I have to do."

"Before you didn't even want to pass by Sunnydale," Spike pointed out.

"I know. But that was before. I still don't want to deal with Angelus, but getting to the Council is more important to me than avoiding him."

Spike could still recall in the early days of knowing Buffy when he'd been convinced he'd have the upper hand in their relationship. In retrospect, he realized just how silly a notion that had been. Already, she had him wrapped around her tiny pinky. And to make matters worse, she knew it. Gone was her fear that he would use what control he had over her through the claim to take away her free will. She was right there, however. Spike knew that he could still control her actions to a point, could pull on her to get her to obey his commands, but he wouldn't do it. The thought of doing that to Buffy now made his stomach turn.

No, she had control now, and it wasn't from a mystical force. It was of his own doing. He'd handed her his heart, and in doing so had given over his destiny as well. Every piece of him was hers.

"Sunnydale it is then. But I want you to be careful. Don't take Angelus lightly. There's a very good chance that he'll come after us in some fashion. He may not be able to bite you, but he's best known for the tortures he can inflict on someone without laying a hand on them."

Buffy squeezed Spike's hand that she still held in her grasp. "I will be careful. I've already been at the mercy of Angelus once, and that's a place I don't ever want to be again."

Spike cupped her face with his free hand, threading his fingers in her hair as he did. "This whole thing has me worried, kitten. If anything were to happen to you, because of Angelus, the Council, or even some other nasty on the Hellmouth, I wouldn't know what to do."

"I know. And because of that, I'll be careful. I promise." Buffy rose up on her toes and kissed him softly, trying to assure him with her touch that things could be okay. "I want us to get through this. I want us to have the chance to find our place together."

Spike's head tilted slightly. "Do you, Buffy?"

Her response was to pull him back for another kiss, this one harder than the one before. Buffy felt Spike harden against her hip as she opened her mouth and let his tongue dual with hers. She was better at this than she was with words. She hoped that with every touch, Spike could feel what he was coming to mean to her and how grateful she was for what he'd done. She knew she never would've been able to come this far avenging her mother without him, and she didn't know how to form the words to thank him for that.

So she showed him instead. Buffy pulled Spike back to the bed with her, positioning them so her body was on top of his. Spike let her have control, his hands resting gently on her hips but not guiding her movements. She raised up, then came back down, catching him inside of her as she did. Spike groaned, his fingers digging into her warm flesh.

Buffy kept him nestled snugly inside of her, keeping her hips flushed with his instead of riding him. She bent down and pressed her upper body to his, the soft curves of her breasts against the hard planes of his chest. Beneath her, Spike fought to remain still, to stay going at Buffy's pace and see where she was going to take things.

She brought her face against his neck, feeling him shiver as her nose brushed against the skin covering his dead jugular. She pulled up just enough so she could lick him there, bathing the marks she'd placed on his neck when she'd claimed him back, then began to squeeze his cock rhythmically inside of her with her tight vaginal muscles.

Spike growled, his fingers so tight on her hips now that his nails were forming red, crescent-shaped marks on her skin. Buffy growled back in response, her licks to his neck becoming more aggressive, her squeezes tighter. Soon, she was nipping at his flesh, covering his neck with tiny bite marks.

Her hips hadn't moved since she'd taken him inside, and still Spike was rapidly approaching release, his balls tightening beneath her. His body shook, desperate for that last little bit that would send him spiraling over the edge.

She gave it to him. Buffy lifted her head back then came down quickly, her teeth slicing into his flesh. His blood filled her mouth as his hips bucked, his orgasm slamming into him and flowing back through Buffy, his pleasure becoming hers as well.

The aftershocks still coursing through her, Buffy pulled her teeth from him and lapped at the wound. "Mine," she growled against his torn skin.

Spike trembled, tears in his eyes. "Oh god, Buffy, yours…completely yours."

Buffy collapsed against his body again, and Spike held her, wishing he could stay right there with her forever.

*** *** ***

Buffy was napping peacefully in his arms, but Spike was wide awake, the thoughts running through his head preventing his eyes from staying closed. Something monumental had just happened between them. That much he knew. The question remained, though, what exactly did it mean?

Despite Buffy's quick cover-up by explaining that she only meant because of the effects of the claim, Spike had caught the implications in saying that Giles couldn't have betrayed Joyce because he loved her and then likening that to the relationship Spike and Buffy themselves shared. So did that mean what his heart hoped it did? Did Buffy love him?

At one point, Spike had thought that she would. Then, he'd come to the conclusion that it would never happen, her childhood indoctrination concerning vampires too strong for her to ever move past. He'd continued to feel that way until this morning, when she'd come so close to telling him that what she felt for him was indeed love.

But could he hope for that? She'd been told over and over vampires were nothing but demons, driven solely by bloodlust. They weren't capable of love and they certainly weren't deserving of it. Could he ever truly prove to her none of that was true?

Then, with a start, Spike came to a realization. Everything Buffy had ever known, ever believed, had just been turned completely on its head. What she knew about vampires, she'd learned through the Watchers' Council. Now, with the revelation that they had in fact been behind her mother's death, her faith in them had crumbled. It was more than possible that she no longer believed their doctrines where vampires were concerned. Without the teachings of the Council coloring her views of Spike, everything could very well be poised to change between them.

Yet could she ever call it love? Beyond the Council's teachings was his own behavior in the beginning of their relationship. He'd been horrible to her, treating her like his property, something he could use and control. He deeply regretted it now, and he'd tried to both make it up to her and show her that he'd never treat her in such a way again, but would she ever be able to move past it completely? He couldn't help but fear that his earlier abuse of her tainted their relationship now, and that it would continue to on some level forever. He still remembered the look on her face when he'd opened the closet door the night he'd caught her trying to escape. She'd been terrified of him.

Spike didn't think she was afraid of him anymore, not with the ease with which she bossed him around. However, she had to remember what he'd done and what she'd felt when he'd done it. Clearly she'd resigned herself to the fact that they were in this together for the long haul, but did she sometimes look at him and feel revulsion from the memories of what he'd done to her?

And there was so much she could feel revolted from. The way he'd fed on live humans, completely careless of the way it was ripping her apart inside as he did—so much to the point that she'd been willing to take her own life just to stop feeling it anymore. And the first time he'd taken her… His girl deserved to have lost her virginity properly, with him showing her concern and caring. Instead, he'd taken her like an animal in a dirty warehouse and discarded her on the floor when he was done as if she were nothing more than a used whore.

He hadn't raped her that night, though the line had been hazy, but Spike knew he would have, had she told him no. He realized for the first time with perfect clarity how willing he would've been to rape and murder this woman in his arms, and a wave of self-disgust washed over him. If anyone else had done to Buffy what he'd done to her, he would've ripped them apart, and not just because they'd dared to touch his mate.

Spike pulled her closer, his body tensing as he tried to shake off the horror he was feeling. "I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered against her brow. "God, Buffy, I'm so sorry."

In her sleep, Buffy didn't hear him, but she nuzzled closer to him, instinctually seeking more contact. Spike closed his eyes, breathed in her scent, and hoped that by some miraculous chance she could realize how much he'd changed for her, because of her.

He hoped that someday, she could not only love him, but forgive him as well.

*** *** ***

Three chapters in a week…I think that might be some kind of record for me.

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Every other time in the car with Spike had seemed like an eternity, the road trip itself made even unbearable by the knowledge that their next stop would be yet another motel.

But tonight, Buffy longed for another motel, longed for the trip itself to linger on. She didn't want to do this.

She had to do this…

The nervousness that had been building in the pit of Buffy's stomach reached nearly uncontrollable levels as Spike turned the DeSoto onto Revello Drive. What would she say to Giles? How would she tell him that the organization he put his faith in—the one he worked for—had killed someone he loved?

And even on top of that, how the hell was she going to explain Spike?

Buffy didn't have much longer to ponder her questions as Spike pulled up in front of the house and cut off the car's engine. "Are you ready for this, luv?" he asked Buffy as he turned towards her.

"I've gotta be, don't I?"

"You don't have to be, kitten. If you need more time, we can…"

"No," Buffy said, not letting him finish. "Putting it off won't make things any better."

Spike knew she was right, and he didn't push her to wait anymore. "Let's go then. I'll be right beside you, Buffy. The whole time. I won't leave you."

Buffy smiled softly at him. "I know, Spike. And knowing you'll be there helps. It does."

Spike took her hand as soon as they were out of the car, and Buffy welcomed the extra strength it made her feel. His hand was cool and solid, reassuring.

She stopped for a moment outside the door, taking a deep breath before she knocked. She heard movement in the house and waited until Giles opened the door, a look of shock going across his face before he broke out in a smile, relief flooding his features. "Buffy! Good lord, I thought I'd never see you again! I…" He stopped suddenly, paling as he realized she was not alone.

"Giles, get away from them!"

Buffy turned sharply, her heart dropping in her chest when she saw the Slayer storming up to the house, crossbow in her hand.

And she wasn't alone.

Spike grabbed Buffy and held her against his chest as he slid into gameface and snarled at his grandsire.

Angel snarled back, his yellow eyes trained on Spike. "What are you doing here?"

"Buffy needed to talk to the Watcher," Spike replied evenly, despite his demon growling for the other vampire's blood to be spilled.

Nancy stopped inches in front of Buffy and Spike, her crossbow still pointed at the couple. "Like hell she does. I'm dusting both of you right now."

Buffy turned towards the Slayer, annoyance clear in her expression. "Hello? Not a vampire!"

"I don't believe you," Nancy said. "You're with him." She nodded at Spike.

"Yeah, and you're with him," Buffy said, gesturing sharply towards Angel. "Last time I was here, he was trying to kill you and me both."

"He's got a soul again," Spike announced, frowning as he did. "I can sense it all over him."

"And Buffy's not a vampire," Angel confirmed, coming to stand behind Nancy. "But I don't think we can trust her. Spike's claimed her, made her his mate. Who knows what sort of control he's got over her."

Spike snorted in response to that.

"What?!" Buffy yelled, forgetting in her anger she had a Slayer pointing a crossbow at her and maybe she shouldn't provoke her. "I can't be trusted? Where the hell do you get off, Angelus? I mean…"

"It's Angel now," Angel informed her, stiffening at her use of his other moniker.

"Oh who the hell cares?" Buffy snapped. "You can call yourself Bozo the Fucking Clown, it makes no difference. You're still the man who kidnapped me with the intent of raping and murdering me, and I think if one of us here is not to be trusted, it's you."

"He didn't have a soul!" Nancy yelled angrily at Buffy. "Much like the vampire standing behind you right now!"

"Yeah, and somehow the fact that he has one now doesn't make him seem any safer to me," Buffy replied. "And don't you dare start in on Spike."

"Start in on Spike?! He's evil!"

"So's your overly-foreheaded honey!"

"No he's not! Willow restored his soul! He's different now!"

Before Buffy could reply, Giles had stepped out onto the porch and between the two couples. "Nancy, lower your weapon."

"But Giles, she…"

"I said lower your weapon!"

Nancy jumped at the sound of her Watcher yelling, and the crossbow came down.

Giles turned his back on Nancy and Angel. "Buffy, tell me what's going on here. I want to hear it from you."

"There's a lot to tell, Giles," Buffy said. "And it's really not standing on the front porch sort of stuff. It's more of the sitting down with a stiff drink variety."

Giles glanced between Buffy and Spike. He'd heard Angel refer to the pair as being mated, and as a Watcher he knew enough about vampires to know what that meant. And the way Spike had his arm wrapped protectively around Buffy at the same time his hand stroked her hip comfortingly suggested actual affection between the pair. The last time Giles had seen Buffy, she'd been hellbent on killing Spike for murdering her mother. Clearly, something had changed. Something big, even beyond the mating itself.

Perhaps it was curiosity getting the better of him. Or perhaps it was the tenderness in Spike's eyes when he ventured a glance at Buffy that told Giles the bleached vampire was somehow not the threat he once was.

Either way, he stepped back and said, "Then we shall discuss it inside. Come in…both of you."

"Giles!" Nancy screeched. "What are you doing?! Spike is a vampire! You can't invite a vampire into our house!"

Giles stared pointedly at Angel. "Yes, because that would be quite catastrophic." He cleared his throat and then looked back to Buffy. "Come on, my dear."

Nancy stormed into the house after Giles, Buffy, and Spike, Angel close on her heels.

They went into the living room, Spike and Buffy taking a seat on the couch while Giles sat down in a chair. Nancy and Angel remained standing, both watching the blonde couple, and Buffy squirmed uncomfortably. Knowing Angel had a soul now did nothing to erase the memories of what he'd done to her, how it had felt to be cold and naked against his body, his hand cruelly thrusting inside of her, his desire to hurt her so thick she could almost feel it smothering her. She moved closer to Spike, and he put his arm around her, though his body was rigid. Buffy recognized the tension in him. He was coiled for a fight, ready to strike if either Nancy or Angel as much as started to lay a hand on her.

The mood of the room didn't lend itself to small talk, and Giles didn't bother with it. "What did you come here to tell me, Buffy?" He swallowed, then asked in a softer voice, "It's about Joyce, isn't it?"

Buffy nodded slowly. "I found out who was responsible for her death, Giles. It…it wasn't Spike."

"So that's what this is?" Nancy blurted out. "You're all damage-bound on Spike because he killed your mom, but then you start sleeping with him and suddenly you're convinced he's the good guy?"

Buffy cut her eyes at Nancy. "I never said Spike was the good guy, though I do trust him a lot more than your soulful loverboy. What I said was he didn't kill my mother. And he didn't." Buffy brought her gaze back around to meet with Giles's. "It was the Council."

Giles went completely white, his hands trembling. "I…they couldn't…"

"They did," Buffy replied. "Spike?"

Spike reached into his duster and pulled out Howard's journal, handing it to Giles. "It's in there, mate," Spike said softly, feeling pity for the other man. He knew how he'd be feeling, were he in the Watcher's shoes. "Buffy's got the page marked."

Giles flipped open the journal, a sobbing sound escaping from him as he read the dates surrounding Joyce's death. When he was done, he closed the book shut and let it fall on his lap.

"I need to do something, Giles," Buffy said. "I have to find out exactly who on the Council was behind this, and I need to make them pay. I can't let them get away with this."

Giles removed his glasses, wiping his eyes as he did. "No, you can't. And neither can I. I'm assuming you came here for my help?"

Buffy nodded. "You're as close as I can get to the Council right now."

"Right then. You've got it."

"Giles!" Nancy exclaimed. "I can't believe you're falling for this! She's obviously tricking you! Spike's put her up to it. He's trying to infiltrate the Council, and…"

"Nancy, do shut up," Giles snapped, his voice low but menacing. "Buffy, Spike—it's getting late. I believe I have cot in the basement that the two of you could share. Being down there should keep Spike safe from the morning sunlight. We'll discus how to approach this when…" Giles stopped, swallowing hard. "When I've had more time to process it. Buffy, do you mind if I read more of this journal?"

"No, I don't mind. There's more in Spike's car, too. Honey, why don't you go get them?"

Spike glanced between Buffy and Angel. "Are you sure, luv?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she assured him. "Just hurry back."

Spike kissed the top of her head then got up and walked out of the house.

"I'm not staying under the same roof as him," Nancy said. "He's evil, Giles."

Giles's hand tightened around the spine of Howard's journal. "You're more than welcome to spend the night somewhere else tonight, Nancy."

From the way Nancy's jaw dropped, it was clear she hadn't been expecting that response. "Giles…"

Giles stood and turned to face his Slayer. "No. This is not something we will be discussing. Buffy is a guest in my home, and due to the circumstances, Spike must be as well. The news they have brought me tonight is dire, Nancy. The Watchers' Council murdered a Slayer. There is no reason to think they would not do so again. Is that something you're comfortable with?"

Nancy's arms crossed over her chest. "If the Council did kill her mother, maybe they had a reason."

The look that came to her Watcher's face was one Nancy had never seen before, and it chilled her to the bone. "Don't you ever speak about Joyce that way again, do you hear me? She was more of a Slayer than you could ever hope to be."

Nancy's eyes welled with tears. "Giles…how could you say that?"

"How could you stand here in front of someone and tell him the woman he loved deserved to die? How could you tell someone their mother deserved to die?"

Nancy held her chin up. "I don't trust her, Giles. She's with a vampire. She has to be evil."

Giles scoffed, and Buffy got the feeling it probably had less to do with Giles trusting Spike in the least and more from the fact it was Nancy making a comment like that. Nancy must've, too, because she chose that moment to turn on her heel and storm out of the room.

It was then Buffy realized she and Giles were now alone. Angel must've slipped out during the argument. She reached out to Spike through the claim, but the response she got was one of reassurance, though she could feel her mate's tension as well.

"I don't trust Spike, Buffy," Giles announced, bringing Buffy's attention to him again.

"I know. I didn't expect you to," Buffy replied.

He sat back in his chair, his legs too shaky to keep supporting him. "However did you become mated to him?"

"It was after Angelus and Drusilla got me," Buffy said. "Angelus was going to rape me. Spike went ballistic. He claimed me before Angelus could do anything. We've been dealing with the fallout ever since."

Giles had put his glasses back on upon sitting down, but now they were off again. "I see. Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"That night, in the warehouse, when Nancy found you. Was that…was that rape?"

"No," Buffy answered, leaving it there. Those were details that didn't need to be shared between anyone but herself and Spike.

"How did all this happen? You thought he killed your mother. You wanted him dead. But the two of you were involved—enough that he would claim you? It doesn't add up, Buffy."

Buffy looked down at her hands. "I know. I was right there for the whole thing, and I'm not completely sure how it happened. All I know is that it did, and Spike and I are together now, for better or for worse."

"Does he have control over you?" Giles asked.

"No, he doesn't. Everything I've done with him has been under my own free will."

"Then how can…" Giles let out a deep breath. "How can you reconcile within yourself what he is? He's a killer."

"He's not killing anymore. I know that doesn't make it all better, but it makes it…a little easier. The claim's permanent, Giles, and I've learned to live with it."

"Joyce wouldn't like this. It wouldn't be what she'd want for you."

Pain surged through Buffy at his words. "I know."

Silent now, they waited for Spike to return with the rest of Howard's journals.

*** *** ***

I know most of you were probably expecting a big Angelus face-off, but it didn't fit in with what I have planned for the rest of this fic. I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone!

Please remember to review.

Spike sensed his grandsire long before he was actually standing beside him, but he waited until then to acknowledge him. "Whatever you've got to say, Angelus, I don't want to hear it."

Angel didn't leave, but then again, Spike hadn't really been expecting him to. "I want you to stay away from Nancy."

"Done," Spike replied with a shrug. "I really don't care one way or another about your bird, Angelus. This isn't some elaborate scheme to kill her in her sleep. Not my style anyway, and you know it."

"For all I know, your style has changed, Spike," Angel replied, obviously not believing Spike when he claimed he wouldn't go after the Slayer again. "Look, I don't know what game you're trying to play here with that girl, but…"

Spike slammed the trunk of his car one-handed, his other arm carting the small box Howard's journals were in. "No games. I doubt I want to be here anymore than you want me here, but Buffy needed to see the Watcher, so here we are."

"So I'm honestly supposed to believe that you're here to help this Buffy girl? Come on, Spike. A couple of weeks ago you were completely set on killing Nancy and drooling all over Drusilla."

Spike turned and leveled his eyes with Angel, despite their difference in height. "A couple of weeks ago, so were you."

A flash of guilt went over Angel's features at Spike's pointed comment, and Spike was glad to see it. "That's different. I have a soul," Angel argued.

"And you really believe it makes you a different man?" Spike asked, head cocked slightly to the side.

"It makes me a better man than you."

"Maybe it does and maybe it doesn't. I didn't come here to debate the issue with you. I came here because my mate needs me. And don't think for a second that I've forgotten what you did to her, what you planned to do to her. The only reason I'm not killing you right now is because it would piss off Nancy, and Buffy doesn't need to have to deal with that. She's got more important things to worry about."

Angel snorted. "Like you even could."

Spike used every ounce of control he had not to let Angel bait him. Control had never been his strong suit, he knew, but he could use it when the situation called for it. He wouldn't have been able to make it through the last century otherwise. "As enjoyable as it would be to make you suffer, I didn't come here to fight you. You want me to stay away from the Slayer, fine. I already told you I would. But the both of you have to stay away from me and mine, too. Buffy and I aren't staying. She'll get the help she needs from the Watcher, and then we're gone."

"I can't allow even that much, Spike," Angel snapped. "I can't let you stay here and feed in my town."

At that, Spike had to laugh. "Oh come on. You've done plenty of feeding here yourself. Just because Nancy's little witch friend shoved a soul back up your arse doesn't undo any of that." Spike shrugged. "Besides, I'm off the live ones anyway. The missus doesn't like it."

"You can't honestly expect me to believe you've stopped feeding."

"I don't care what you believe. Now scamper off and go back to making googly eyes at your girlfriend, or whatever it is the two of you do. I've got to get back inside."

"I'm going to be watching you, Spike," Angel said, doing his best to sound menacing.

Spike was far from intimidated. "I am awfully difficult to tear your eyes away from, aren't I?" Spike's expression became mockingly-serious, and he put his hand on Angel's shoulder. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there won't be a repeat of that time in Venice. I'm a mated vamp now."

At the look of shock and possibly something kin to embarrassment that broke out over Angel's face, Spike laughed and headed back up the walk to the house.

*** *** ***

Spike knew something had occurred in the living room as soon as he walked in, but he decided to ask Buffy about it in private. Instead, he handed the journals over to the Watcher. "Here's what we have."

"They were still back at my old apartment, hidden in a wall," Buffy explained. "I don't know if Howard kept more than those, but I couldn't find any more."

"This is fine," Giles replied, glancing warily at Spike as he took the box. "Thank you for allowing me to read them, Buffy."

"You're really more doing me the favor," Buffy replied. "I want to know if there's anything else helpful in them, but after reading those couple of entries, I couldn't really stomach anymore."

"I'll read them for us both then," Giles told her softly.

"Thank you."

After an awkward pause, Giles cleared his throat. "Would you like for me to go ahead and set up the basement for you?"

Buffy nodded. "We'd appreciate that. Thank you."

Giles responded with a small smile and another wary glance at Spike before he got up from the chair.

*** *** ***

"Tell me what happened when I left the house, luv?" Spike prodded gently once he and Buffy were alone and in bed.

Buffy sighed. "Nothing too exciting, really. Nancy said if the Council killed my mother she probably deserved it, Giles flipped on her, and then afterwards he told me this wasn't the sort of life my mother would want from me, like I so don't already know that, and well…just fun all the way around."

Spike tightened his grip around Buffy, trying to rein in his anger at Nancy and her Watcher, too, for that matter, despite the fact that the night had already made the little bit of patience he had to his name wear thin. "They're both wrong, sweetheart. Nancy is a self-righteous bitch who's as bad as her git of a boyfriend, and as for what the Watcher said… Joyce would want you to be loved, kitten. To be happy. And maybe I wouldn't have been her first choice for you, but I love you, and I'd never intentionally hurt you again. And…and you're happy, aren't you, Buffy? At least a little bit?"

Buffy looked up at his face, able to make out the vulnerability etched into his features in the dim light of the basement. "I'm happy, Spike. As happy as I've ever been, anyway."

Spike kissed her temple, his eyes closing for a moment as he relished the feel of her before he opened them and spoke again. "I think Joyce would've understood. It might have taken her some time, but… I don't think she would've been disappointed in you, Buffy."

"I've thought about that. A lot. It worries me, what my mother would think if she could see me now."

"She'd think that she has a wonderful, strong daughter, who grew up to be everything she'd taught her to be. And that she's damn lucky to have found herself such a good-looking man."

Buffy chuckled despite the tears in her eyes, and Spike smiled, glad he could make her laugh. "I won't make you do something your mother would be ashamed of you for, pet. I won't turn you into something you'd hate."

Buffy searched his face for a moment, her expression serious. "You really wouldn't, would you?"

"Never. I love you for who you are. I was a little slow to catch on, but… I won't make you change, luv."

She kissed him, meaning for it to be tender, but as their kisses always seemed to do, it heated up quickly. Buffy soon felt his erection hard and needy against her, pressing between her thighs and pushing up the hem of his t-shirt she'd worn to bed, too self-conscious to sleep naked like him in someone else's house.

"Spike…we shouldn't…" she panted, even as she rubbed herself against him. "Giles might hear. Or…or Nancy."

"I'll make sure you're quiet," Spike replied. He turned them over so Buffy was beneath him and placed his hand firmly over her mouth, stifling any cries she could make.

Buffy whimpered into his palm as Spike thrust inside of her. She felt trapped beneath him, with his hard body pushing her into the cot and his hand clamped so forcefully over her mouth. Even with the extra strength the claim had allowed her, she was weaker than him. He had her completely at his mercy.

And it didn't scare her at all.

The words Spike had spoken to her only a few minutes earlier came back to her mind. I'd never intentionally hurt you again… He wouldn't. Something about seeing Angel again had solidified that for her. Even with his soul returned, the other vampire still set her nerves on edge. Somehow, she knew it was more than the fact that she knew Spike well and Angel was a virtual stranger, aside from when he'd held her captive. And it went beyond the claim as well. There was something inside of Spike that wasn't in Angel, a spark unconnected to the soul. She could see it in the difference in their eyes. With Spike, it was so easy to forget she was looking at a dead man just from the twinkle in those crystal blue orbs.

Spike slowed down above her, looking at her with concern, and Buffy realize her thoughts must've distracted her more than she'd realized. She winked at him, then bit down lightly on the inside of his hand, letting him know she was there with him again. Spike grinned, and his pace picked back up, driving from her mind any thoughts other than how good it felt to be with him.

She came with a muffled scream into his hand, her body shaking against his. Spike began to thrust harder, the movement of his hips no longer measured as he desperately sought his own release. He thought for a moment that he should probably be more aware of the fact the cot they were on may not be the sturdiest before he was coming, his teeth slicing into his lip as he fought to keep himself quiet as well.

The basement silent except for the sound of their harsh, uneven breathing, Spike rolled them over, pulling Buffy tightly against his chest as he did. She brought her head up just enough to kiss him, tasting the blood he'd drawn from his lip and sighing with pleasure into his mouth.

The situation they were facing still worried her, but less so for the moment as Buffy allowed herself to feel pleasantly sated. The nearness of his body and the tingle she still felt between her legs were a comfort, and Buffy was grateful that if she was going to have to have to make an enemy like the Council of Watchers, at least she had Spike at her side.

"I'm glad I have you."

Her whispered confession was so soft that Spike wasn't sure he'd heard it, even with his acute hearing. "What's that, pet?"

"I'm glad I have you," Buffy replied, louder—braver—this time. "It wasn't an ideal start for either of us, I know, but, this is good. It's starting to make sense to me in some weird sort of way. I'd never thought of myself as being in a relationship before, and a lot of that was because I didn't know who I could possibly share my life with. I'm not a Slayer, but I'm still not like other girls. I never gossiped on the phone for hours or wandered the mall looking for the hottest new styles. I was more focused on weapons training and battle tactics. Even when I bothered to go to school, I never had any friends, never connected with any of the other kids. Their lives, their world, it never made sense to me. I guess I got so caught up in my mother's that it just became mine, too."

Buffy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, it was more than that. My whole life, I've known what's really out there, and I couldn't ignore it. When I was fourteen years old, Howard got so upset with me because I got myself hurt by saving a girl in an alley from a vampire. But I hadn't been able to walk away. I saw it happening, and I knew in that moment that I had an advantage the girl didn't—I knew the nightmare she was facing was real, and I knew how to fight it. And even if I'd died that night, or any of the other nights I went searching for a vampire to face, at least I'd be doing my part. I'd be doing what was right. Simply by knowing vampires and demons are real gives me a responsibility to fight them.

"But being with you, it doesn't take me away from that life. And it doesn't pull you into it, either, since you were already a part of it before. I can't even begin to imagine how I'd explain to a normal human guy this situation with the Council, and I know he wouldn't be able to have my back the way you do. When I think about it that way, you being what you are is sorta comforting." Buffy frowned. "Just as long as you don't go back eating people again, because that complicates the whole thing right up."

Spike pressed a kiss into her hair. "I'm not going to. That would hurt you, and I won't do it. I don't care how hard it is for me, I won't." Spike paused for a moment, thinking about some of the other things she'd said. "You're going to want me to start killing my own kind with you, aren't you?"

Buffy squirmed against him. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"I'm not sure how I feel about it, Buffy," Spike answered honestly.

Buffy rolled over on top of him and looked down at his face, a mischievous glint to her features. "Think about it, baby. You, me—mayhem and destruction. Could be fun."

Spike's eyebrow arched. His girl knew him, all right. And knew how to sell him on an idea, too. "I'll think about it, kitten."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips before she rolled over and nestled herself against his side again. "Bet it'd be hot."

The knowledge that Buffy was turned on by the idea of fighting by his side almost made Spike say to hell with all other vampires and drag her out to the nearest graveyard right then. But becoming a complete turncoat to his kind was something he knew he should give a little more thought to. "We'll talk about it later, luv."

"Okay," Buffy said, her eyes closed and her tone indicating to Spike that she was already convinced as to what his answer would be. "Good night, Spike."

"I'm serious about the whole thinking about it thing, pet."

"I know, honey. Go to sleep."

Spike growled softly in his chest. She'd be a right irritating chit sometimes if she weren't so bloody cute… "Good night, luv."

"Night, Spike."

*** *** ***

Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter!

When Buffy woke the next morning, she wanted nothing more than to stay in her mate's arms. It was moments like that one when she felt safest, the most at peace. She propped herself up on her arms and looked down at him, a warmth blooming in her heart at the sight of his handsome features.

She believed him now, when he told her vampires were more than their demons in corpses. Buffy remembered not too long ago thinking about what he had been like as a human and coming to the conclusion then she'd never know. But she did know. She knew who William must've been. He must've been a good man for bits of him to continue poking out even now, after years of being Spike.

There was nothing but sincerity in the way he held her, comforted her. The night she'd found Howard's journals, Spike had been so kind to her, his concern for her apparent not only though the bond they shared, but through his actions as well. She remembered the attention he'd paid to her hair, knowing she wouldn't want to go back to bed with it tangled and dripping. He'd held her together that night, let her know without a single word that, vampire or not, he loved her as much as he claimed.

Buffy's emotions welled up inside of her, constricting her throat, and she leaned down to kiss his forehead, whispering softly as she did, "Me too, William."

She could hear signs of life upstairs, and as much as she didn't want to, Buffy knew she should go up, speak to Giles. He'd probably be easier to talk to without Spike anyway, since Buffy harbored no illusions about Giles trusting the vampire despite letting him into his home. Reluctantly, she got off the cot, her heart feeling a pang at the way Spike rolled over to the spot she'd just vacated, instinctually seeking her heat.

Buffy got dressed and then went quietly up the stairs, not wanting to wake Spike. She'd hoped to see Giles first, but instead, she ran into Nancy and her friends in the kitchen, fixing sandwiches for lunch.

"Well, look who's awake," Nancy said with a smirk that Buffy really wanted to smack off her face. "I thought for sure you'd sleep the day away."

"Well, normally, I would, but I decided to be social today," Buffy said, forcing herself to adapt a tone of perkiness. "It's difficult to wake up in the morning though, with Spike always wearing me out the way he does. But I suppose you'd know about that sort of thing, wouldn't you, Nancy, since we've got that vampire fetish in common and everything."

Nancy sputtered. Xander looked horrified. Willow raised her napkin to her mouth, and Buffy could've sworn she saw the redhead's eyes light up with a smile, but she couldn't be certain.

"I do not have a vampire fetish," Nancy snapped after a few seconds. "Angel has a soul."

Buffy frowned, mimicking a puzzled look. "Does that make him not able to keep it up all night like the other vamps then?"

This time, Willow's choked laugh could be heard against the napkin, though she quickly covered it with some coughing.

"What Angel and I do is none of your concern," Nancy snapped. "But I can tell you it is nothing like that sick, degrading mockery of a relationship you have with Spike."

Buffy wasn't sure what bothered her more—Nancy's hypocrisy or her willingness to pass judgment on a relationship she knew absolutely nothing about. Either way, it really made her want to hurt the other woman. But, being in no mood to get into a physical fight with the Slayer, Buffy settled on verbal jabs instead. Less blood splatter that way at least, and she was sure Giles would appreciate the lack of mess in his kitchen.

"Well, you sound like you'd be hours of fun in bed," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "No wonder Angel had to go find himself a good time elsewhere. Even that skanky hobiscuit Drusilla had to be better than you."

Nancy had no comeback. Her face crumbled, and she ran out of the room. Buffy felt quite pleased with herself. Apparently she had found the exact right nerve to hit. Yay her.

"You had no right to say that to her," Xander snapped. "Nancy's been through a lot."

Buffy rolled her eyes. So apparently even with Angel back to his soulful self, Xander was still chasing after the Slayer. How very…cute. Kinda like a two-legged puppy. "Why don't you kiss it and make it all better then," Buffy retorted.

Xander glared at Buffy, then followed after Nancy.

When the two of them were alone, Buffy glanced over at Willow. "Sorry."

"For what?" Willow asked.

"You're the only one in here I didn't want to see my bitchy side," Buffy confessed. "You were nice to me before. Baked me cookies and everything." She gave Willow a small smile.

"Well, I liked you then," Willow said. "And I still like you now," she clarified quickly, realizing how her first statement could've sounded. "I don't blame you for being snippy with Nancy. She did start it. Not that I understand why anyone would want to date Spike or anything, 'cause yeah, that's got me a little weirded out, but it's not my business."

Buffy smirked. "Spike's actually not so bad once you get to know him. He's…grown on me. But it's more than just that with Nancy. I know she's your friend and all, and I'm not trying to pull you in the middle of anything, but I don't like her. She's never been particularly nice to me, and well…" Buffy leaned forward closer to Willow and lowered her voice. "I have very good reason to believe the Watchers' Council killed my mother, which is why I'm here. Nancy was there when I told Giles, and her response was basically if the Council killed my mother, then maybe she did something to deserve it. It didn't win her any points with me."

Willow gasped. "Nancy said that?" Even as Willow asked the question, however, she realized that something about it didn't completely surprise her. "Buffy. I'm sure that's not true at all."

"I know it isn't," Buffy said. "I found my mom's Watcher's journals. He didn't exactly lay the whole thing out in step-by-step detail or anything, but he gave reasons why the Council was dissatisfied with her. Apparently she wasn't playing by the Council rules well enough and asserting her independence as a Slayer. Which hey, seeing as she was the one actually Chosen and not them, then I'm thinking not such a bad thing." Buffy glanced back towards where Nancy had walked out. "Besides, somehow I don't think a Slayer in love with a vampire would sit well with the Council either, whether that vampire had a soul or not."

"I don't think so either," Willow admitted. "But…but Angel can be okay, too, Buffy. When he's not killing people—or goldfish. Or…or making with the big stalkey-ness."

"Willow, Angel tried to rape and murder me," Buffy said bluntly. "He wanted to make Spike watch while he tortured me, and then turn me into a vampire so he could taunt Spike with having me as his. Somehow, that doesn't manage to score Angel any points in my book."

Willow looked horrified. "Buffy, I knew Angelus got you, but I had no idea…"

"It's okay," Buffy said, waving her hand. "I've dealt. Besides, Spike saved me." She smiled softly, looking at that night through new eyes now. The circumstances may have not been the best, and the following days may have been rocky, but Spike did save her that night. And now, given all that had passed between them, Buffy had to wonder if the reason had truly been as simple as Spike just not wanting to have to share another woman with Angelus. She could admit now, at least to herself, that there had been something between them from the very beginning. A connection, a spark.

"It's hard to picture Spike as the hero type," Willow said. "He's always been more of the 'Grr…I'll drink from your brainstem' type."

Buffy giggled. "He can be that, too, but…" She paused for a moment, wondering how much she wanted to say. She didn't know Willow very well, and honestly, for all she did know, Willow could be the "good cop" to Nancy's bad one, befriending Buffy just to get information from her. She didn't, however, sense any of that sort of deception from the other girl. If anything, she was getting the feeling Willow was somewhat hostile towards Nancy, albeit secretly. And besides, she really felt like gushing about Spike.

"Spike's changed from when I first met him," Buffy said, leaning in a little more. Willow leaned in, too, a shared conspiratorial gleam in her eye, the look on her face showing that she was ready for some girl talk. "At first I didn't want to believe it, y'know? I mean, vampire being nice—gotta be a trick. But it isn't. Spike and I, we're mated, and that's really hard to explain, but…it gives us this amazing connection. I can't read his every thought or anything like that, but we share emotions. In the beginning, I didn't like it because I felt like he was forcing all these emotions on to me, but the claim isn't so overwhelming anymore. Like it needed time to settle or something. And now it's just like there's always this tiny part of him with me, so I never feel alone. No matter how bad I feel or how rough things are, I can always sense this bit of Spike's love for me, deep down inside."

Willow's eyes widened. "Spike loves you? But he's a vampire…"

"A vampire that loves me," Buffy said. "I know, I thought it was crazy at first, but he's shown me how true it is. He can be soo sweet, Willow. When we go to bed at night, he's always fussing with the comforter, making sure I have enough so he doesn't make me cold when we sleep. And he's always concerned that I'm not eating enough because of how skinny I was when we met, so he makes sure I get enough to eat. He remembers things I say, like I told him my favorite kind of ice cream, and the next time he went to the store, it was in the bag he brought home without me saying anything else about it."

Willow was still having a hard time imagining Spike—Spike who had tried numerous times to kill her and all her friends—as anything but evil, but she had to admit that the things Buffy mentioned sounded a lot like real love to her. Granted, her one relationship ever was really just beginning, but it seemed to her that if someone were going to fake love, they wouldn't think to add those tiny details. Especially not Spike, since Willow did notice that he'd never been one for carefully laid out plans. Maybe Grandma Rosenberg had been right, and all any man did need was the love of a good woman…

"So do you love him, too?" Willow asked.

Buffy blushed and looked down. "I haven't…to him…I haven't said…"

"Gotcha," Willow said, pulling up. "Consider that question retracted."

"Thanks," Buffy told her, visibly grateful.

A few moments later, the door to the basement opened, and Spike came into the kitchen. Buffy's stomach did a little flip as she wondered how much he might have heard. Knowing Spike, he'd either come upstairs without paying a bit of attention to anything or he'd eavesdropped on the whole thing. Not a lot of happy medium with that man…

"Morning, luv," he rumbled against Buffy as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Morning," Buffy replied, leaning back against him.

Willow hid her smirk as she watched Buffy turn to jelly in Spike embrace. Seeing them together seemed to back up what Buffy had said, and Willow thought about it for a moment. Nancy seemed adamant they accept Angel back into the group now that he had a soul, but he'd certainly done his share of bad to them. He'd even killed someone they knew—something Spike had never managed to do. And if Spike could be all nice and loving with Buffy, then didn't he maybe have something like a soul, too? Willow didn't understand the mating thing Buffy had talked about, but it seemed pretty powerful. And whoa… She could feel some sort of mystical energy humming around the couple. Felt pretty powerful, too.

"I'll need to make a run later, when the sun goes down, luv," Spike said to Buffy, speaking softly but still loud enough for Willow to hear. "I realized when I woke up I left the cooler with the blood in the car last night, and by now, I'm sure the ice has melted and the heat's spoiled it all."

"There's blood in the freezer," Willow piped up, causing both Buffy and Spike to turn towards her. "Nancy keeps it in there for Angel. It's pig's blood, and I don't know if you like that, but I could warm some up for you."

Spike regarded Willow for a moment with surprise. "Thanks, Red. I'd appreciate it." He kept to himself the fact that pig's blood or not, it would give him an extra kick getting into Angel's supply. From the smirk on Buffy's face, he figured she hadn't missed that.

"Then one vampire breakfast, coming up," Willow said, jumping from her seat and going over to the freezer.

Spike watched her for a moment, his shock over Willow offering to get blood for him not subsiding. He'd expected more fear, at least a little bit of contempt, but she was being friendly to him and to Buffy, so much as to engage in a little girl talk with his mate this morning.

That conversation alone had been about enough to almost make Spike burst into song. If he did that sort of thing. In public.

"Thanks," Spike said again when Willow brought the freshly-warmed mug of blood over to Spike. "And um, sorry for the whole trying to kill you thing."

"Well, I did try to shoot you with that crossbow once, even if I did hit the wall several feet away, but, um…never try to do it again and we'll call it even?" Willow's voice went up to a little squeak at the end of her sentence.

Spike chuckled, and the warm sound made Willow visibly relax. "Even it is then, Red."

Willow smiled and sat back down in her chair, finding herself very glad that Buffy had come back to Sunnydale.

*** *** ***

I should be able to keep this fic with a regular posting schedule through to the end. I'm planning on posting three days a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I won't, however, be able to post next Friday, June 16, because I'll be going out of town for the weekend. But I'll post new chapters on Monday and Wednesday, and then go back to three a week the following week.

Please remember to review. It takes only a few moments, and it means so much to know that the hours of work I put into each chapter is appreciated.

Buffy learned from Willow that Giles had sequestered himself in his office, leaving strict orders with Nancy not to disturb him unless there was an apocalypse. Buffy figured he was most likely reading the journals, and didn't much feel like waiting to talk to him about them until he decided to come out of his office again.

Spike went back downstairs to the basement, deciding it would be best for everyone if he stayed as far away from the Slayer as possible, and Buffy headed towards the staircase and Giles's office.

"He doesn't want to be bothered," Nancy said coolly, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall and started Buffy down.

"I'm not bothering him. I'm going up there to discuss the crisis at hand," Buffy replied with more than a little annoyance.

"There is no crisis at hand," Nancy said. "This is you trying to play him, trying to turn him against the Council—and me. Spike put you up to this."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Buffy snapped. "No idea at all." With that, she stormed up the stairs, refusing to even look back at Nancy.

When Nancy saw that Giles allowed Buffy into his office without complaint, her eyes narrowed.

*** *** ***

"Anything helpful in the journals?" Buffy asked Giles as she flopped down in one of the overstuffed chairs in his office.

"No, not much, really," Giles replied, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. "Much of the entries before Joyce's death are quite vague. I'm assuming to keep Howard out of trouble with the Council, should they have gotten a hold on them." Giles coughed into the side of his fist. "Buffy, was there something other than the journal entries that lead you to believe it was the Council who had Joyce murdered? Not that it isn't all but spelled out here, but… I suppose I'm having a hard time accepting that the Council would do such a thing."

Buffy was silent for a moment, surprised at herself for not telling Giles about Mack. But then again, the night before had been an unsettled one, and she'd been thrown by the reappearance of Angel. "Spike found this vampire who claimed he was the one who actually killed my mother. We got it out of him that he'd been approached by three rough-looking men with British accents who told him the Slayer would be drugged and where he could find her that night."

Giles swallowed hard. "That does sound like…"

"A Council wetworks team?" Buffy finished for him. "I know, Giles. I was raised by a Watcher for twelve years. I wasn't clueless about everything, even if Howard thought I was. I also know that the Council has ways of drugging Slayers, taking away their powers."

"True, but the process takes several days and weakens the Slayer gradually. There is no sign in the journals of Joyce being weakened prior to her death," Giles replied. "Furthermore, she mentioned nothing to me at the time of feeling weak. We spoke every day. She would've said something."

"So the Council has something that can take down a Slayer quicker. Come on, Giles, would you honestly put it past them?"

Giles thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I wouldn't. I'm not… Buffy, I believe it was them. The evidence certainly appears to point that way, and they had a motive, albeit a disturbing one. It simply that I…"

"Don't really want to?"

Giles lowered his eyes and nodded. "Yes."

"Yeah, I know, Giles. Me, too."

"I feel…"

"Horribly betrayed?"

"Yes." Giles stood and poured himself a brandy.

Buffy watched him for several moments as he drank from his glass. She didn't regret her decision in coming here, and not only because she wanted a way to get closer to the Council. Spike had been so comforting and good to her through all of this, but she was glad she had Giles, too. He could understand what she was going through in a way Spike couldn't, because Giles was going through the same thing. Both of them had been horribly betrayed, and in that betrayal had lost someone they both loved. The betrayal and the loss of Joyce were something only the two of them could truly share.

Buffy knew they both needed some sort of closure as well. They were united in their pain and united in their need to make things right.

"Giles, do you have an idea who on the Council would've had it done? Who would've been in charge of it?" Buffy asked.

His hand tightened around his glass, and for a second Buffy was afraid it was going to shatter in his hand. "Yes, Buffy. I do."

"Share?"

He took another drink of his brandy, then looked at her. "Quentin Travers. He's the current Head of the Council, and became so shortly after your mother's death. Before that, he was essentially the acting head since the actual leader of the Council had been ill for quite sometime, but it was not official, and he had no guarantees that he would become the Head once the current one passed on."

"Would my mother's death gain him a leg up in that?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. The Watcher of the Slayer who was Called following Joyce's death was a personal friend of Travers. While I was…on sabbatical…at the time, I would not be surprised in the least if that was used to garner Travers favor."

"Do the Watchers have any power of who gets Called?" Buffy asked.

"No, none at all," Giles replied, shaking his head. "Although I know several wish they did. But the next Slayer was, like your mother, found only after her Calling. Her Watcher was assigned after she was a Slayer."

"And this Travers guy assigned his friend, giving him more power over the Council and the Slayer." Buffy shook her head. "God, some people really disgust me."

"Me as well. Buffy, what do you want to do about all this?"

"I'm not sure," Buffy admitted. "Part of me is all 'revenge now, grr…' but I know that's not practical. We have to prove beyond a doubt it was Travers, and then we need to decide how to handle him. Although right now, I'm thinking feeding him to Spike would be fun."

"I wouldn't be adverse to that," Giles replied before downing the rest of his drink.

Buffy took one look at his face and knew Giles was completely serious.

"I'll start trying to find out what I can," Giles said after several moments of silence. "It might take a while, though, I can't…"

"Call him up and ask, 'hey, ever had a Slayer killed?' I know, Giles. I'm all prepared to be proceed-with-caution girl."

"Good then," Giles said. He poured himself another drink. "You are of, course, welcome to stay here as long as you would like to. However…"

"Giles, I'm not going to be anywhere where Spike isn't. I can't."

"I'm well aware of that. I've never before seen a mated couple firsthand before, and I had wondered if perhaps vampire mating rituals were no more than myth, but I have studied what is available on them enough to know that separating you from Spike would be nothing short of impossible. My concern, however, is what his habits will be while he remains in Sunnydale."

"Spike isn't feeding off live humans anymore," Buffy replied, knowing exactly which of Spike's "habits" Giles was referring to. "It's one of the areas where he's had to make major concessions in order for us to work."

Giles met her gaze and held it. "Can you promise me that, Buffy? Can you give me an absolute guarantee that I will not be harboring an active killer in my home?"

Buffy's stare didn't waiver. "Yes, I can."

"I'm putting a lot of trust into you here."

"I know. It's not misplaced."

"See that it isn't."

Buffy rose to her feet, knowing they'd said all they needed to say to each other for the time being. "I'm going to go check on him now."

Giles gave a slight nod, and Buffy took it as her cue to leave.

*** *** ***

Willow paused at the top of the stairs to the basement. She felt a bit like an intruder, and wondered if she should just turn around and go home. Buffy had been in the basement with Spike for most of the day, and Willow wasn't sure how that sat with her. Nancy had been convinced they were plotting something evil, and while Willow didn't think she'd really go that far, the idea of holing up in a basement with a vampire all day did sorta give her the creeps.

But on the other hand, she liked Buffy. She seemed like a really nice girl, and Willow thought she seemed like she needed a friend. Furthermore, when Willow was completely honest with herself, she wasn't sure how much she truly liked Nancy. Xander had met her first, and had continued to want to hang around her even after he learned she was the Slayer. Willow then did what she'd done since kindergarten and went along with Xander.

At first, Nancy had seemed like a good friend. And if some days she was a little terse and hard to be around, Willow could cut her some slack. After all, being the Chosen One had to be a difficult job. But as time went on, Willow began to see just how mean Nancy could be. She'd tried to talk about it to Xander, but he'd hear none of it. He was completely convinced Nancy was a goddess from the heavens. He also seemed completely oblivious that she was doing nothing but stringing him along. She threw him just enough of a bone to make him stick around, but Willow had noticed the only time Nancy ever got all flirty with Xander was when she thought he wasn't paying her enough attention.

Willow didn't even know why Nancy wanted all of Xander's attention anyway. She had Angel and their little angst fest. Willow would've thought that would've been enough for Nancy, but apparently, Xander had to pine after her, too—to the detriment of the friendship he'd always had with Willow. Willow had already been growing tired of it all and after the whole thing with Angelus, she'd only grown more so.

"Uh, Red? Are you going to stand at the top of the stairs all day or did you actually want something?"

Willow jumped at Spike's voice, making a little "eep" sound as she did. Right, vampire hearing, and smelling, and whatever else vampires had. Of course he'd known she was there while she was having her little inner monologue moment. "I, um, wanted to talk to Buffy," Willow called out. "Can I come down?"

"Sure," came Buffy's chipper reply, and Willow felt instantly better about being down there. Willow walked down the stairs, stopping right beyond the foot of them and turning towards Buffy and Spike. They were sitting up on the side of the cot, Buffy's arm wrapped around Spike's and her head on his shoulder. Willow suppressed her grin at the sight. They looked, well, really cute.

"Nancy left to meet Angel for patrol and Xander went home, and well, I was going to go home, but then I thought about you down here, and now I'm being all rambley when all I was really going to do was ask if you wanted to come upstairs and watch a movie with me or something." Willow let out a deep breath. There, she'd said it.

Buffy glanced quickly up at Spike, who responded with a soft smile. "Go on, luv."

"You can come, too, if you want," Willow said to Spike, fiddling with her hands nervously as she extended the invitation.

Spike shook his head. "I'm all right down here. You two go, do whatever it is girls do when they're alone."

"Okay," Buffy said. She kissed his cheek. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will, sweetheart."

Willow found it hard to remember that this was the same guy who'd spent months trying to kill them all. Now he was all sweet, like a domesticated kitty. Willow glanced over at him again and amended that. A domesticated lion. How gentle and loving he was with Buffy aside, one look at him and the way he carried himself made it very clear he still had his fangs.

"Okay, let's go see if there's anything good to watch," Buffy said to Willow as she got to her feet.

Willow gave Buffy a warm smile, and they went up the stairs together.

*** *** ***

Just a quick note about Nancy to respond to some of the reviews I've been getting. While she may have followed a similar path to Buffy's on the show, Nancy is not merely a stand-in for canon Buffy. Facing similar events does not make two people the same person, and Nancy is, personality wise, different from Buffy. So don't think that Nancy wouldn't do something because canon Buffy wouldn't or that a character wouldn't react to Nancy a certain way because they wouldn't have to canon Buffy. They're different people and are not meant to be interchangeable.

Also, I wanted to remind everyone that voting has begun in the Sunnydale Memorial Awards. There's a lot of good stories and authors from all over the fandom nominated, so go check it out: http://sunnydawards.dragonydreams.com/

Please remember to review!

Nancy was already not in the best of moods when she came back from patrol. She and Angel had gotten into a fight. It seemed he didn't think her idea to dust Spike in his sleep and throw his little whore out on her ass was a good one, and Nancy couldn't see why. She was harboring evil in her house—something no Slayer should ever do. The only reason she could think of that Angel wouldn't be completely on her side about this was if the spell to restore his soul Willow had done hadn't worked as well as they'd all thought it did. It wouldn't surprise her at all to find out Willow had messed up.

Xander certainly agreed with her about what to do with Spike and Buffy.

So when Nancy walked into her living room to find Buffy and Willow on her couch, eating a pizza and laughing at something on the television, Nancy's mood went from bad to worse. Way worse. Who did this girl think she was, stealing her Watcher and her friend? And couldn't they all see that she had to be evil? She was with Spike. A vampire. No one who ran around with a vampire could be a good person.

Except for her, of course, because Angel had a soul and that made everything okay. With a soul, Angel wasn't really like a vampire at all.

Nancy stood in the entryway to the living room, her arms crossed over her chest. "Willow, can I talk to you alone for a bit?"

Willow glanced quickly between Nancy and Buffy before she said, "I'm watching a movie with Buffy."

"Well, I'm sure Buffy wouldn't mind going back downstairs. Spike might be getting hungry, and it's clear from those disgusting marks on her neck what he's eating these days." Nancy rolled her eyes.

Buffy touched her neck, her fingers grazing the scar left over from the claim. She'd never given a lot of thought to the bite marks before, even when she had fresh ones. Did they really look disgusting? She shook the thought off, realizing she'd let Nancy see her vulnerable for a moment and she didn't want that. "These? Oh, they're not from feeding. They're from sex. Angel doesn't bite you?"

Nancy glared. "Angel would never disrespect me in such a horrible manner."

"Sounds to me like he's holding out on you," Buffy replied. "I mean, the orgasms from bitey sex? Oh my god. Wow."

Nancy sucked in a breath. "Go back to the basement, Buffy. I want to speak to Willow alone."

Willow looked between the two girls again, knowing a fight could very well be brewing, and that wasn't something she wanted to be in the middle of. "Can we finish the movie some other time, Buffy?" she asked, hoping she could get Nancy and Buffy to separate before things got any uglier.

"Um, yeah. Sure," Buffy said, standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Will."

Buffy saw Nancy's self-satisfied smirk on her face as Buffy walked out, and she heard Nancy turn to Willow and announce as soon as Buffy was out of the room, "You can't be friends with me and her," followed shortly by Willow's, "Okay."

Buffy tried hard to fight her tears as she went back down to the basement, but as soon as she saw Spike, they fell anyway. "Luv, what's wrong?" Spike asked, sitting up on the cot and holding his arms out to her. "Did you and Red have a row?"

Buffy shook her head as she moved into Spike's arms. "No. We were getting along really well, and it was nice. I've never had a friend my age before, and I was having a good time hanging out with her. But then Nancy came home and saw us, and she said that Willow couldn't be friends with both of us."

Spike's heart broke for his girl. He'd caught on to how much she seemed to like Willow, and he was hoping for Buffy's sake that she had made a friend. As much as he liked to monopolize her time, he knew he couldn't be everything for her. If she could find another girl her age to be her friend, Spike knew that could go a long way towards Buffy feeling more content with her place in life.

He held her against him, comforting her as she sniffled, and really wished he could get away with killing the Slayer.

*** *** ***

"You can't be friends with me and her," Nancy informed Willow as soon as Buffy was out of the room, though, Nancy knew, most likely not out of earshot. Not that Nancy cared.

Willow shrugged. "Okay."

Nancy heard the door to the basement slam shut and smiled. That had all gone easily enough.

Then Willow started to walk out, too, and Nancy's smile morphed into a frown. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Willow met her eyes. "To go talk to Buffy."

At that, Nancy gaped. "What? But I just said…"

"Yeah, I heard you," Willow replied. "And I'm going to be friends with Buffy."

"You can't do that!" Nancy screeched. Willow winced. She really hated the sound of Nancy's voice when she used that tone.

"Why not? You told me I had to choose, so I did."

"But you've only known Buffy for a few days!" Nancy argued. "We've been friends for a year and a half. And Buffy's probably evil."

"Why, because she's in love with a vampire? So are you, Nancy, and that vampire killed someone I cared about. I really don't think you're in any position to pass judgment on Buffy for who she wants to date." Willow held her head up high. She felt proud of herself all of the sudden, finally having the guts to stand up to Nancy.

Willow Rosenberg was a girl who was tired of being bullied. So far there had been one other girl Willow's age who had been nice to her from the start and hadn't wanted something in return, and that was Buffy. Buffy had seemed to genuinely want to be Willow's friend. And not because she wanted to copy her homework or because she came as part of the "friends with Xander Harris" package.

Buffy liked Willow. And Willow liked Buffy.

"You don't dictate who I can and can't be friends with, Nancy," Willow said, feeling like she could be on a roll now. "I've spent over a year helping you with the slaying. I even gave Angel his soul back for you! And you've never even given me as much as a thank you, and I'm tired of it! I'm tired of feeling like your…like your lackey. I can't even be the plucky sidekick!"

"That isn't true!" Nancy said.

"Yes, it is! You think you're better than everyone and that we're all just here for your…amusement. You're controlling and…and manipulative! And I'm not going to play this game with you anymore!" Willow crossed her arms, her breathing almost erratic. She'd never talked to anyone like this before, always afraid she'd feel bad if she told someone the not-so-nice things that came to her mind. But she didn't feel bad at all. It felt good finally getting these things off her chest.

"You've treated Buffy terribly since she got here," Willow continued. "You talk about her behind her back to Xander all the time, and you don't even know her. And the things you were saying earlier today about her mother? I sat here and listened to you say her mother probably deserved to die. You're always talking about the burden of Slayerhood and how no one understands, and then you can just stand there and say those things about another Slayer before you? One who died doing her duty? That isn't right, Nancy, and I don't want to be friends with someone who thinks it is!"

"The Council killed her mother!" Nancy yelled at Willow. "The Council is good, so if they killed Buffy's mother, then she had to be bad."

"Get out of my house."

Willow and Nancy turned towards the stairs, taking in the sight of an unkempt, less-than-sober Giles. "Giles…" Nancy gasped in shock, the sight of her Watcher like that throwing her.

"Get out, Nancy. Now. Go."

Nancy's eyes filled with tears, and Willow had to fight the urge to gag. That's something else she'd picked up on with Nancy. Whenever one of the guys said or did something she didn't like, she started crying. Willow was sick of it, and apparently so was Giles.

"I will not stand for Joyce's memory to be defiled in such a way in my home. Leave now."

More tears. "Giles…"

"Leave!"

Nancy jumped, but did what he asked this time, turning around and walking out the door.

Almost as soon as she was gone, Giles stumbled, almost falling down the stairs. Willow ran up to him, steadying him.

"I believe I need to…rest," Giles said. "The room has begun to spin just a bit…"

"Come on, Giles. Let's get you to bed," Willow said, helping the man into his room and to the bed. She took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand, then asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

Giles nodded slightly. "I believe so. Thank you, Willow." His eyes closed, and Willow tip-toed out of the room and back down to the basement.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" Willow asked when she came down the stairs and saw Buffy leaning against Spike, crying.

Buffy sniffed. "Willow? What are you doing down here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Willow replied.

"But I heard what Nancy said…about how you could only be friends with one of us." Buffy sounded so sad when she spoke, and Willow noticed Spike gently stroke her shoulder, comforting her. She was more convinced than ever that she'd made the right decision.

"She did. And I told her I was friends with you."

Buffy's mouth dropped, Willow's response obviously not the one she was expecting. "Me? But…why?"

Willow shrugged. "I like you better." A wry smile tugged at Willow's lips. "You may not have noticed this, but Nancy's sort of, um…a B-I-T-C-H."

Buffy snickered. It was a stark contrast to be around someone who had to spell out curse words after spending so much time with Spike, but she found Willow's relative innocence endearing. "That did come to my attention. Where is she now? I heard someone leave—did she storm off?"

Willow shook her head. "Not exactly. Giles kicked her out."

"He what? Really? Why?"

Willow looked down, blushing a little. "She said something mean…about your mom."

"Let me guess, another round of 'The Council killed her, so she must've been evil.'" Buffy said.

"You don't believe her, do you, Buffy?" Willow asked, looking up again. "Because I don't think it could be true at all. If Giles loved your mom that much, she had to have been a good person."

"I don't believe her," Buffy insisted, Willow's words of comfort warming her. She barely knew the redhead, but Willow had touched her with her concern, the way she'd seemed to genuinely care for her well-being in a way Buffy wasn't used to. "My mother was a good person—and a good Slayer. The Council is the bad here."

"If there's anything I can do to help you, Buffy, I will," Willow said. "I'm not sure how much I can do, but, I'll try. I'm good with computers. And…and I'm trying to be a witch, though I'm not much of one."

"You shoved Peaches' soul back in. That's quite a bit of mojo to work, Red," Spike said, speaking up for the first time since Willow had joined them in the basement. "Just don't go cursing me now. I've heard what makes that one break, and something tells me my girl wouldn't appreciate that much." He winced as Buffy elbowed him.

Willow giggled. "Peaches… I'm sure he'd love that nickname."

"Better than some of the others I have for him," Spike replied.

"Where is Giles now?" Buffy asked.

"He's drunk, I think," Willow replied. "But I helped him to bed." She frowned. "Sort of weird, helping my high school librarian to bed after he's had too much to drink."

"Is he all right?" Buffy asked, sitting forward. "Does he need…"

Spike put his hand against her leg, stilling her. "Pet, best thing for the Watcher right now is sleep." Buffy relaxed, realizing Spike was right.

"I should be getting home," Willow said. "It's getting really late."

"You shouldn't walk home alone," Buffy replied. "Especially not on the Hellmouth." She turned to Spike. "Honey, would you see that she gets there all right? I would, but…"

"You don't want to leave Giles," Spike filled in for her. "Got it." He stood up. "Come on, Red. Looks like you got yourself an escort tonight."

Willow regarded Spike nervously for a moment. It was one thing to trust him enough to be around when they were in the house, but walking alone with him at night?

Sensing her hesitation, Spike said calmly. "I won't hurt you. You're someone my mate cares about, and that puts you under my protection."

Something about his tone made Willow decide to take a leap of faith. "Okay. Good night, Buffy. I'll come by tomorrow after I wake up, okay?"

"What day is tomorrow?" Buffy asked, her nose wrinkling.

"Sunday."

"Oh. Thanks. I sorta…lost count."

"It's okay," Willow replied.

"Good night, Willow."

"Good night." Willow gave a little wave before she walked off with Spike, and Buffy watched her mate and her new friend go up the stairs.

*** *** ***

Just a reminder that this will be the last chapter of this fic for this week, but I'll have a new chapter for you on Monday.

Please review!

"Thanks for walking me home," Willow said as she and Spike stood outside her door. "Walking alone at night in Sunnydale does sorta make the butterflies in my stomach start a-flutterin'."

"Don't mention it, Red," Spike replied with a nod of his head. "Now get in there so I can tell Buffy I saw you safely through the door."

At that, Willow didn't linger. She said a quick goodnight and dashed in through the front door, shutting it behind her. Spike heard the lock click, then turned around, fishing his cigarettes and lighter from his duster pocket as he walked down the stairs, off Willow's porch.

He'd just taken his first drag from the cigarette when Spike caught her scent. He wondered how long she'd been there, and realized he hadn't been able to sense her near the way he once had. "You can come out now, pet," he called. "It's not nice to stalk, no matter what Daddy taught you."

Drusilla stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, the glow from it around her white dress giving her an almost ethereal look. "Daddy's gone, my William. I'm all alone."

"Can't say I'm feeling a lot of sympathy for you," Spike replied, taking another drag from his cigarette as he regarded his sire for a moment. She looked different to him somehow, as if the woman he'd stood beside for more than a century was gone now.

Drusilla moved slowly towards him, her feet seeming to glide across the ground. "I know you can't mean that, my darling. Forget all this nonsense and come home with me. I promise not to punish you too much for being such a naughty boy."

Spike flicked his cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his boot. "No, Dru. We're over. Go make yourself a new toy to play with, I'm done."

"She'll never love you!" Drusilla screamed as Spike started to walk away. "You disgust her!"

Spike bristled. Drusilla always knew just what to say to cut him, knew how to reach into his mind and snatch out his darkest fears. He wasn't going to let her manipulate him this time. Spike had meant what he'd told her. He was done playing her games. He turned and faced her again, looking at her straight on as he spoke. "Still better than having to spend another century with you."

Drusilla reeled backwards for a moment as if struck before she flew at him, beating and clawing at his chest. Spike grabbed her wrists, holding them up and together so her hands could no longer reach him. "It's over, Drusilla. You drove me too far this time, and I'm not coming back. Pack up your frilly dresses and your little dolls, and get out of town."

"I'll kill her!" Drusilla yelled.

Spike snarled, his demon roaring to the surface as he backed Drusilla up and slammed her against a tree. "You as much as touch her, and I will end you, Dru. I don't care what we had together, she is my mate, and I will protect her from anything—even you."

For the first time in Spike's recollection, Drusilla looked genuinely afraid of him. Then the fear turned to sadness, and when Spike released his grip on her wrists, Drusilla reached up to run her hand down her face. "What's happened to you, William?" She shook her head. "No…I know what's happened. The pretty dolly's dressed you up in sunshine. She's shared her spark with you."

"I'm a part of her now, same way she's a part of me," Spike replied evenly.

"Then you really are lost to me. There's nothing Mummy can do to save her wicked boy."

"No, pet. There isn't."

Drusilla gave him one more sad look before she disappeared into the shadows, and Spike let her go.

*** *** ***

"I was beginning to wonder when you were finally going to join me," Buffy said as she felt Spike slide in behind her on the cot. "You've been back for at least an hour, but you've been outside and all…fidgety. What happened?"

Spike didn't want to try to lie to her. There wasn't any reason for it. "I ran into Drusilla."

Spike felt Buffy tense beneath the arm he had draped over her waist. "Oh?"

"Yeah. She showed up right after Willow went inside her house. It was sort of odd. I used to be able to sense her, get this special sort of tingle when she was around. I thought maybe I still would, her being my sire and all, but I didn't. Nothing. The only way I knew she was there before she stopped hiding was her scent."

Buffy was silent for several moments before she finally asked, "Did you want it to still be there?"

Her question almost made Spike angry. Hadn't he already told her over and over that he loved her? Hadn't he shown her how much she meant to him by giving up everything he was just to make her happy? But then he felt her insecurity through the claim, and realized it wasn't him she was worried about at all. It was her. She was afraid she wasn't enough for him, that Drusilla had something she lacked. Softening, he turned her in his arms so he could look at her face.

"Buffy, sweetheart, Drusilla is nowhere near the woman you are. You're strong, and you're warm, and just a smile from you makes me feel like I'm alive again. Drusilla turning her back on me in favor of Angelus turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me, because it led me to you, Buffy. And you're everything to me. My sun, my moon. My heart…" Spike's mouth curved in a heartbreaking smile. "My soul."

Buffy's eyes pooled with tears, and her hand trembled as she reached up to touch his beautiful face. "Spike…"

"Tell me you're glad it happened, too, Buffy," Spike implored her, his words soft even as the emotion behind them was strong. "Tell me you're glad I claimed you."

"I am," Buffy admitted, her tone almost a whisper. "Even with everything that happened, it… It was worth it."

Her words did much to heal him, to soothe over the pain he'd caused himself in hurting her. Spike had worried when they'd first set out to return to Sunnydale that Buffy would no longer show him the tenderness she'd begun treating him with, that the disapproval their relationship was bound to meet from the Slayer and her Watcher would cause Buffy to pull away, to go back to blaming everything on the claim. But she hadn't. She'd continued to treat him as a lover and not a tormentor, and hadn't seemed to take any of the words of judgment she'd heard to heart.

Spike also remembered what he'd overheard her say to Willow when Willow had asked if Buffy loved Spike. Buffy didn't deny it, didn't insist that she was with Spike because the claim made her be. Instead, she'd begged off the question by telling Willow she hadn't been able to tell Spike yet.

Hearing that answer had filled him with more happiness than he remembered feeling before in his entire existence. Buffy did love him. If she wasn't able to say it yet, Spike could live with that. He could give her time. Just knowing she felt it was enough for the time being.

He kissed her, opening the connection between them as he did and poured everything he felt into her, rejoicing again when he felt it flowing back. Buffy pulled him closer to her, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, as if she feared he could slip away from her, and Spike knew she was giving him something he never could've gotten from Drusilla.

Warmth. Comfort. Love…

Spike slipped inside of her with ease, and Buffy gasped against his lips, a tremor passing through her. They moved together silently, communicating between each other without speaking, their lovemaking becoming a conversation without words. With every touch of her skin, every twist of her hips, Spike felt what she felt for him, what he had become in her heart. With each of his deep thrusts inside of her body, every kiss that took her breath away, Buffy knew she was the only woman he wanted in his arms.

They came together, pleasure rolling over them both, rocking their bodies until they could take no more and collapsed together in a heap, limbs entwined. Spike ran his fingers through the gold of her hair, and Buffy pressed her face against his chest, her lips leaving tiny kisses on his pale skin.

The couple remained silent as they drifted off to sleep, nothing else needing to be said between them for the moment.

*** *** ***

Nancy sat up in bed, glaring at the wall. She couldn't believe how badly the night had turned out. Angel was still being moody, even when she'd gone over there to try one more time to get him to sympathize with her plight. He seemed to think that going after Spike now would only get her hurt, like she wasn't the Slayer and capable of handling these things. Giles had kicked her out of her own home, and to add extra insult to injury, Willow had turned her back on her, too. She'd rather be friends with Buffy. Nancy didn't see what was so great about Buffy anyway. For one thing, she was probably evil.

It wouldn't have surprised Nancy in the least if it turned out that Buffy had been in league with Spike this whole time and this was all just part of some elaborate evil scheme to get to her. Buffy had used the connection she had to Giles through her mother—if that Slayer even really had been Buffy's mother—to infiltrate Nancy's life and get her mortal enemy a free pass into her house. Buffy had probably staged her fight with Spike the night Nancy had met her in order to get sympathy from Nancy, as well as the one later, in the warehouse. Spike had most likely been her lover all along, and Buffy had been playing them for a bunch of fools.

Nancy wasn't going to fall for it. She knew what sort of person Buffy really was, and if Willow and Giles couldn't see it, then that was their problem. She knew that by leaving them alone in the house with Spike and Buffy she was probably leaving her Watcher and former friend vulnerable, but Nancy didn't much care at the moment. They'd chosen to abandon her, to trust the vampire and his whore, and now they would have to pay the consequences. If that meant death, well, they should've listened to her in the first place. She was, after all, the Slayer.

And as the Slayer, Nancy had a job to do. She had to stop Spike and Buffy, especially since it appeared that their plan was not only to eliminate the Slayer but the entire Council of Watchers as well. Then what? Where would it stop? Would Spike strive to truly live up to the title of Slayer of Slayers?

Nancy threw the covers off of her legs, deciding she knew where it would end. Right then and there. She was not going to let someone traipse into her life and ruin everything the way Buffy Summers had. That evil little bitch was not going to get away with anything she was planning.

Nancy got out of the bed, careful not to step on Xander as he slept on the floor, curled up in a Snoopy sleeping bag that probably hadn't been big enough to truly fit him in years. Nancy smiled slightly. At least she still had Xander. He wasn't exactly any good in a fight and tended to get in the way more than anything else, but it was nice to know she had someone in her corner.

She took her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and walked silently into the bathroom, checking right before she shut the door to make sure Xander was still asleep. She shut the door behind her, then pulled herself up onto the counter by the sink and entered a number into the phone's keypad.

Two rings later, and there was an answer. "This is the Slayer," Nancy said, her tone steady, even, angry. "I have something important I need to discuss with Quentin Travers."

*** *** ***

Let me guess, you all hate Nancy?

Please review! And thank you to those of you who didn't harass me about not being able to post Friday. I didn't even have access to the internet, so I really do appreciate that most of you were understanding about having to wait.

Spike woke alone the next morning, and he could tell from how cool the bed was that he'd been that way for a while. He wondered where Buffy could have gotten off to, until he heard the sweet sound of her laughter overhead, coming from the kitchen. It was soon followed by a laugh he recognized as Willow's, and Spike smiled to himself. He was glad he'd never managed to kill the Slayer's little friend—or ex-friend, Spike would wager now—since Buffy seemed to have taken such a liking to the girl.

He got up from the cot and put his clothes on before going upstairs, another smile blooming on his face as he caught sight of Buffy. She and the little witch were bustling around the kitchen, and Spike wasn't sure he could remember a time when his mate looked more adorable. Her hair was pulled high up on her head in a messy ponytail and there was a bit of flour smeared on her cheek, but she was still so cute that he had to fight to keep from grabbing her, pressing her against the counter, and doing something to her that he knew would embarrass Red to no end, seeing as she was standing right there and all.

"Good morning, honey," Buffy said chipperly, letting Spike know she had indeed noticed him come into the kitchen. "We're making pancakes. You want some?"

"Sure," Spike replied with a shrug. He wasn't sure what Buffy's culinary skills amounted to, but he'd be willing to risk it at least.

"He eats pancakes?" Willow asked, glancing between Buffy and Spike.

"Yup," Buffy replied, pouring the batter for the first one into the frying pan. "I was surprised, too, but apparently he does eat normal food."

"Angel never did," Willow said.

"Angel's a pathetic git," Spike replied with a snort. "But yes, I do like pancakes. They're good with blood instead of syrup, too."

Both girls looked at him then, staring for a moment as they turned identical shades of green. "Baby, if you do that today, I'm so going to have to hurt you, 'cause I'll never be able to eat another pancake again as long as I live," Buffy warned him.

Spike chuckled, then came up to Buffy, wrapping his arms around her from behind as she flipped over the pancake. "Fine. I'll leave off the blood this morning…as long as you make it up to me later." He kissed her neck, then licked it, his tongue tracing the side of her jugular. Buffy moaned softly, forgetting where they were for a moment, and pressed up against her lover.

Behind them, Willow coughed softly, and Buffy jerked, shaking her head as she went back to her pancakes. Spike turned towards Willow and noticed the deep red stain on her face, realizing that his small display with Buffy had had an effect on Willow as well. He smirked and figured they probably did look pretty damn hot together.

Reluctantly, Spike pulled away from Buffy, knowing he'd have an easier time reining in his desire for her until they could be alone if he wasn't pressed against her. He kissed the top of her head then went over to the kitchen island and sat down.

"Do you want me to heat you up some blood again?" Willow asked, recovering from her reaction to Buffy and Spike's little display. "Not to pour all over your pancakes, 'cause I'm going to go with Buffy and the never eating pancakes again thing, but to drink from a nice, inconspicuous mug."

Spike raised his eyebrow. "Red, are you trying to keep me full so I don't get hungry and bite you?"

"No!" Willow blushed under his unwavering gaze. "Okay, fine…maybe a little."

To Willow's relief, Spike laughed. "I'm not going to bite you. I meant what I said last night—you're under my protection now. You and the Watcher. It's part of what it means to claim a mate."

"What does that mean exactly?" Buffy asked, glancing away from the stove for a moment. "I wondered last night when you said it, and I was going to ask you when you got home, but then when you did I got all, um…distracted."

Spike's brow furrowed as he took a moment to decide how to answer Buffy's question. His knowledge of claims, while greater than hers, was still limited, and some of the things he knew about it were from instinct filling in the blanks. "Initiating a claim—especially a mating claim—it's like making a promise. By claiming you as my mate, I'm promising I can protect you, the way a mate should, and that extends to people you care about as well."

"It's believed to date back to when vampires were more social creatures, and a nest was not merely a hunting party. If a vampire were to take a mate, then that vampire would have to have the assurance that her mate would not bring harm upon her nest." Giles cleared his throat and stepped further into the kitchen. "Willow, be a dear and get me a glass of water so I can take these aspirin, please." He shook the small pills in his hand.

"Sure thing, Giles," Willow replied, moving to comply with his request. After she brought him his water, she went to the freezer to start working on heating Spike's blood.

"You know much about claims, Watcher?" Spike asked once the other man had swallowed his aspirin.

"Some, yes," Giles replied. "To be honest, I always had a sort of fascination with them. They seemed to go so against the grain of what everything else has to say about vampires, and I often wondered if they were even based in fact. I had never seen a mated pair before until the two of you got here the night before last."

Spike wondered if Giles could possibly help him clear up some of the areas where he'd been fuzzy on since he'd claimed Buffy, but at the same time, he wasn't sure he was ready to ask. He'd have to open up to Giles about some very personal things in his life in order to do so, and Spike didn't think either he or the Watcher were quite ready for that.

"I haven't seen many mated vamps myself," Spike said. "Angelus told me it used to be common at one point, but it had always fallen off by the time he was sired. Said modern vampires don't care for the responsibilities taking a mate entails."

"I have also read that it's something taken very seriously, something that usually comes about from a very deep connection already formed between two vampires," Giles added, his gaze unwavering as he directed it towards Spike. "I find it a bit odd, given the circumstances surrounding your relationship with Buffy, that you could have already evolved to a mated pair. It makes me wonder if you have somehow used this to manipulate Buffy since she couldn't possibly have known what you were doing to her at the time."

"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed with shock and more than a little bit of anger.

"No, pet, it's a valid question," Spike said, silencing Buffy before she could say anything else. He turned back to Giles. "Most of what has occurred as far as the actual claiming goes is between Buffy and me alone—it's personal. But as far as my intentions when I made the claim go, no, I didn't do it to manipulate her. I do realize that as far as the timing goes, it was a rather unorthodox move, but I acted on instinct, and I can't say that I regret it. I love Buffy, she knows it, and none of this is about controlling her." Spike raised an eyebrow. "You think if it was I'd be back here in Sunnyhell? Not bloody likely."

Giles didn't seem to have a response, and Spike knew he'd surprised the Watcher by coming out and admitting he was in love with Buffy. Spike didn't care what Giles thought, or even if the other man believed him. It was the truth, and he didn't see any point in denying it.

The microwave dinged and Willow retrieved Spike's mug of blood, bringing it to him quickly so as not to have to hold on to the heated ceramic handle too long. "Thanks, Red," Spike told her with a smile as she put it down in front of him, and Willow grinned. She felt helpful, and Willow liked feeling helpful. With Nancy, she'd felt more in the way than anything else. Even re-ensouling Angel hadn't seemed to help there.

Giles raised an eyebrow at the sight of Willow bringing Spike his blood, but didn't comment. He still wasn't sure if he believed Spike completely about either his affection for Buffy or his obligation to protect the people she cared about, but for the time being he was willing to take the chance. One thing that none of the texts he'd read had disputed was that a vampiric claim was permanent and that any attempt to undo one—especially after the initial stages—could very well lead to the death of the mated pair. So for the sake of the daughter of the woman he had loved and lost, Giles was forced to trust a vampire again. He could only hope it did not have the same disastrous effects as last time. The image of Jenny Calendar, lifeless in his bed, was one he would never find a way to purge from his mind.

Buffy finished cooking her pancakes and brought them over to the table. She offered some to Giles as well, but he declined, the effects from the amount of alcohol he'd had the night before still too apparent for him to eat. He did, however, watch the other three as they did, with more than a little surprise to see Spike join them as if his real breakfast was not in the mug Willow had brought him.

Spike was a strange vampire for sure. Giles had been aware of that from almost the beginning, his habits and actions as he hunted Nancy completely unlike any vampire Giles had ever heard of in all his days as a Watcher. And now, well, he appeared almost human—if one could imagine that his mug was indeed full of coffee, that was. He seemed younger than his true years in the company of the two girls, and his behavior with Buffy was very much that of a young couple just starting out. They seemed to be always touching, brushing against each other as if they needed the constant contact. Whenever Buffy was engaged in discussion with Willow, Spike would watch her attentively, a small smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eye.

That look confirmed things for Giles. Spike clearly adored Buffy. It was a look that couldn't be fabricated, even by the most experienced of con artists, and if Giles had learned anything from the time Spike had spent as the mortal enemy of his Slayer it was that the vampire was not one for falsehoods. It was a strange trait for an evil being, but Spike had appeared to almost always say and do what he meant. Granted, that usually applied to declarations of his intentions to murder the Slayer in horribly gruesome ways, but he was very upfront about it. It had been somewhat refreshing in light of the mind games Angelus played to always keep them guessing.

As impossible as it seemed to Giles to be able to take all of this at face value, he couldn't find any signs of Spike toying with them. The journals Buffy had presented him with certainly appeared to be genuine, and Giles knew as painful as it was to face, the idea of the Council having Joyce killed was certainly a plausible one. Furthermore, if Spike had wanted to kill them, he could've done it several times over by now. He had an invitation in the house, and Giles certainly hadn't been in any position to defend himself the night before.

The sound of the front door opening and closing brought Giles out of his thoughts, and soon, Nancy was walking into the kitchen, bringing with her an uncomfortable silence. The three people seated at the table stopped eating and turned towards her, making Nancy uncomfortable enough to squirm a little.

Giles regarded her coolly. "Nancy. I didn't expect you back this morning."

Nancy lowered her eyes. "I know. Giles, I'm really sorry about last night. I shouldn't have said what I said, and I know that now. I was being a brat, and I'm really sorry. I guess I was a little jealous of Buffy since you two seemed to be getting along so well." She looked over at Buffy. "And I'm sorry to you, too. That was horrible what I said about your mom, and I feel like such a bitch for saying it."

Spike sat up a little straighter and looked at Nancy. Something was…not right. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly, but there was something very unapologetic about her apology. And then he saw it. Just a flash, but it was there, in her eyes. Hatred. Directed right at Buffy. Seeing someone look at his mate in such a way made Spike's skin crawl, and he reached down to grip Buffy's hand. She gave him a quick, puzzled glance, but Spike just squeezed her hand, letting her know this was something they'd have to address later.

"And I'm sorry to you, too, Willow," Nancy said, not waiting for either of the other two people she previously addressed to accept her apology. "You're my best friend, and I shouldn't have treated you like I did. If you want to be friends with Buffy, too, then that's perfectly fine with me. Honestly, I'd like a chance to start things over with Buffy, maybe be her friend, too. Would you be willing to give that a try, Buffy?"

Buffy smiled brightly, yet completely insincerely. "Nancy, I can tell you now that I want to be friends with you just as much as you want to be friends with me."

Spike smirked at Buffy's response. She really was all fire, his girl—and smart, too. She obviously wasn't falling for whatever game Nancy was playing, and Spike was glad to see it.

Buffy's response threw Nancy, her brow wrinkling with confusion as she tried to decide how to respond. "Um…thanks," she said after a moment. Then, Nancy looked back at her Watcher. "I'll understand if you still don't want me here, Giles."

"No, it's your home, too," Giles said after a moment, with some reluctance it seemed. "However, I will not stand for anymore talk of that nature regarding Joyce Summers—or Buffy for that matter. Are we completely clear?"

"Yes, Giles. And really, I am sorry."

Giles didn't respond to her apology, something Nancy obviously didn't miss, and a flash of hurt went across her face. "I'm just going to go back up to my room," Nancy said. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

She left the kitchen again, and soon after, Giles cleared his throat and announced, "I'll going back to my study to go over Howard's journals again, see if there's anything I missed that might be of help to us. Don't hesitate to disturb me if you need anything."

As soon as Giles as out of earshot, Buffy leaned further in, closer to Willow and Spike, and whispered, "Anyone else getting a no-good vibe from Nancy?"

"Loud and clear," Willow whispered back. "Nancy never apologizes unless she thinks she'll get something out of it."

Spike gestured with his head towards the basement door. "Let's go and suss this out where we can have a bit more privacy, yeah?"

The two girls nodded in response as they got up, leaving their unfinished breakfasts on the table as they walked down into the basement.

*** *** ***

Contrary to some of the reviews I've received, I am not pushing Spike and Buffy to the side in this story to focus on Nancy. For one thing, why would I? It's a Spuffy story—what sense does it make to suddenly make it all about someone who's, for all intents and purposes, an OC? Also, that last chapter was almost completely about Spike and Buffy's relationship. Only the last scene had anything to do with Nancy and that was to move the plot along. Previously, I kept getting people complaining about a lack of actual plot and too much concentration on the couple. Now, it's the opposite, and I have to say, that's frustrating. I'd appreciate it if people would give me the benefit of the doubt through to the end of the story. I know where I'm going, and I know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I haven't just randomly decided to turn this into a Nancy bashing fic. If at the end you still don't like what I've chosen to do with the fic, fine, but until then, just relax and let me tell my story instead of trying to read my mind and make assumptions about where I'm going. Thank you.

Willow sat on one end of the cot with Buffy on the other, and Spike on his feet, pacing. He reminded Willow a bit of a caged tiger, yet she felt oddly safe anyway. Something about his assurances that he would protect her rather than harm her rang true, and Willow suspected she had more to fear from the Slayer upstairs than the vampire in the basement.

"Willow, do you have any idea what sort of thing Nancy could be up to?" Buffy asked, pulling Willow's attention over to her.

"No, I don't," Willow replied, shaking her head. "I never really did know what Nancy did half the time. She'd just have me do research, and then she'd take it and go. Kind of like those girls who were always trying to make me do their homework back in junior high."

"Nancy's got herself more than few control issues," Spike said, stopping his pacing. "I picked up on it when I was fighting her and then more so later from some of the things Angelus said after the big soul loss. She likes everything nice and orderly, and preferably, centered on her. You've messed that up for her Buffy, and she's going to want to right it. Or at least what the version of 'righting it' is in her mind."

"Do you think she'll try to hurt me?" Buffy asked, frowning.

Spike looked grimly at Buffy, meeting her eyes. "I know she will. Me, too, but that was already a given. What she said about your mum being evil, I think she meant it."

"I do, too," Willow said, adding her voice to Spike's concerns. "Nancy doesn't let go of things easily, and I've never heard her just turn around and say she was wrong about something the very next day. Her behavior in the kitchen was very weird. I think Giles knew it, too, but he didn't want to make a big deal of it in case it just made things worse."

Spike nodded. He'd certainly gotten that impression, too. Red was perceptive, more than he'd given her credit for in the past. He'd lumped her with that idiot boy Nancy also palled around with, but clearly she was smarter than he'd realized. He was gladder now that she'd taken their side, and not just because it gave Buffy a friend. If they were going to have to be dealing with a damage-bound Slayer, a scorned friend was a good ally to have.

"If she's got herself convinced that Joyce was evil because the Council went after her, then she's probably thinking along the same lines with you, pet," Spike said. "After all, you're with me—for her, that's going to be proof enough."

"One thing I don't think she was lying about this morning was when she said she was jealous," Willow added. "She clearly was last night when she told me I couldn't be friends with her and Buffy, and she always seemed to get annoyed if she thought I was spending too much time with Giles. Or heck, even Xander, even though he was my friend long before he was ever hers."

"So add her jealousy to the Slayer-approved reason to get rid of me in the form of my supposed evilness, and I'm in trouble." Buffy's shoulders slumped. "Crap. This is so not something I have time to deal with. I have a major revenge plot to cook up here, and if I have to fight off a psycho Slayer, too, it's just going to waste valuable time that I could be spending thinking up ways to make the evil Watchers pay."

"So what are we going to do about Nancy then?" Willow asked. She felt like this should make her feel all traitory. She was down in a basement discussing someone she'd once thought of as a friend with someone who had tried to kill that same friend. However, her instincts were telling her something else, that there, with Buffy, was the side she truly belonged on, and she was going to listen to them. With the cold look in Nancy's eyes this morning, Willow knew this could actually turn out to be literally the safer bet.

She did worry what would happen to Xander in all of this, since she doubted he'd be willing to think anything bad about Nancy, despite the fact Willow had been more there for him than Nancy ever had. Not with the way Nancy had Xander at her beck and call. But Willow would dwell on that later, after things had time to settle.

"We should probably lay low for now, keep an eye on her," Buffy said. "If she does have a plan, none of us know it, and I doubt she'll be quick to divulge it, even if we play along with her little 'let's all be friends' speech."

"Buffy's right," Spike added. "As much as I'm loathed to ever start a game of wait-n-see, we don't have enough information to jump right now, and since the chit's more than likely got a mark on my mate, I'm not taking my usual chances."

"So we wait her out?" Willow asked. "Try to see if we can piece together what she's up to?"

"Best we got right now," Spike replied. "We just need to make sure we stay on our guards."

"I probably have the best chance of getting anything out of her," Willow announced, surprising herself when she said it, and even more as she kept talking. "Out of the three of us, I'm the one she's most likely trust at all. Maybe I could get her to tell me something." Inside of her chest, Willow's heart rate picked up. Could she even do what she was offering? She'd never exactly been good at subterfuge. She got nervous and twitchy when she tried to lie. But it did sound like it could be their best bet, and she was willing to try it for Buffy.

"You think you can do that, Red?" Spike asked, his eyes level with hers, and for a moment Willow wondered if he could read her mind.

"Yes," Willow replied, trying to infuse both her answer and herself with confidence. "I mean, in all honesty I've been pretending to like Nancy more than I actually do for a while now."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't know. We don't know what she's thinking or how much she's convinced herself that I'm the bad guy here. If she gets wind that you're spying on her for Spike and me, it could put you in danger."

"I don't think so," Willow said. "I mean, it might not get me any answers, but I don't think Nancy will come after me. She usually just assumes I'm too clueless about demons and stuff to know what I'm doing when she thinks I've done something wrong. I'm facing at worse snide comments and lectures about my choices in life."

"Wow. She sounds like the girl you want to party with," Buffy remarked, rolling her eyes. Then, she was serious again. "Okay, if we're going to do this, how are we going to work it?"

"I guess I try to tell her I've seen the error of my ways, and I'm not your friend anymore," Willow said. "Get her to think I'm all Team Nancy again."

"Don't be too over the top with it, Red," Spike warned. "Keep it simple. Easier to make it seem natural that way."

"Right, I can do that," Willow said, even though her words were tinged with nervousness. "Just gotta remember KISS."

Spike frowned, his head cocked to the side. "What are you going to do, paint your face like a black and white cat?"

"Huh?" Willow asked, frowning for several seconds until a light bulb clicked on in her mind, and she got the reference. "Oh! No! It's something my math teacher used to say, 'Keep It Simple, Stupid'—KISS. Well, until a parent complained, and he had to change the stupid to silly, but now I'm totally rambling when I should be upstairs playing super spy Willow, so I'm just going to go now."

Willow got to her feet, but stopped when she felt Buffy's hand on her arm. "Be careful, Will. We don't know how dangerous Nancy is or how far she'd go to get rid of me and Spike. If you get even the slightest feeling that she might try to hurt you, come down here, and we'll protect you, okay?"

Willow nodded. "I will. I'll be fine, Buffy." She smiled at the other girl. "Thanks for caring. And, y'know, thanks for thinking I'm actually capable of doing something helpful."

"I think you're very capable. Now get up there and pretend you hate me."

Willow giggled. "Aye aye," she said with a salute, then made her way up the stairs.

*** *** ***

Willow took a series of deep, theoretically calming breaths as she stood outside of Nancy's bedroom door. She told herself over and over again that she could do this. She was just going to talk to Nancy, something she'd done plenty of times in the past. She'd known her for close to two years now, and she seriously doubted Nancy was going to hurt her. It wasn't a big deal at all.

Besides, lying to Nancy right now—so not a bad thing to do. From the way Nancy had been acting in the kitchen that morning, it had seemed pretty obvious the Slayer was up to something dubious. So if she was being less than honest, then Willow shouldn't feel guilty if she was, too.

Willow nodded and brought forth her resolve face. Nancy was the one who had turned on her, demanding the night before that she choose sides. Well, Willow had chosen her side, and she wasn't about to feel sorry for it either.

She raised her hand and knocked, waiting a moment for Nancy's "Who's there?"

"It's Willow," she replied, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," Nancy called. "The door isn't locked."

Willow traded resolved for what she hoped was chagrined as she walked into Nancy's bedroom. This should be easy. Just like acting.

Only she hadn't had any acting experience since kindergarten, in which she'd played the world's most terrified strawberry. If this was going to be her life, maybe she should take a drama class so next time she had to go all Emma Peele she'd have some practice.

Willow didn't realize she'd been standing in Nancy's room for several moments until the Slayer raised an eyebrow and asked, "Did you want something?"

"Oh, right, sorry," Willow said. "I came to apologize. I don't know why I was siding with Buffy like that when you're my friend."

"It's all right." Nancy replied with a shrug. "I'm not mad at you anymore. I'm really not even all that surprised."

Willow took a step back. "What do you mean by that?"

Nancy sighed. "You know, there's always been that competition between us because you have a crush on Xander, but he's interested in me and not you."

"Oh. That," Willow said, any lingering concerns she had about betraying Nancy suddenly flying right out the window. "Yeah, that's what it was. I get so jealous of you and all with my never-ending Xander love."

"But I can forgive you for that," Nancy said. "So it's no big deal." She turned her attention to the magazine she'd been flipping through before Willow had come in. "Besides, Buffy won't be a problem for much longer anyway."

That made Willow's blood chill. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just that problems like Buffy have a way of sorting themselves out. She'll be gone and out our hair soon enough."

"Well that's good then. Buffy will leave and everything can go back to normal." Willow replied, even though she was starting to feel a little ill. There was something in Nancy's tone, something dark that Willow didn't like the sound of. They'd been right—Nancy had done something, put some sort of plan into motion. And it must be going to happen soon if Nancy was suddenly so calm about Buffy being there.

"Yep, back to normal," Nancy concurred. She held up the magazine. "What do you think of these shoes? I mean, probably not the best for Slaying, but they'd work for the Bronze."

"They're…shiny," Willow replied. "I like the, um, sparkles. Hey, I need to get home. I promised my mom I'd…dust in the den today."

"Okay. Thanks for apologizing, Will. And things really will be going back to normal soon. I promise."

"Uh huh. Good thing, that normal. Well, I'll see you around. Bye, Nancy."

Nancy had already turned her focus back to her magazine. "Bye."

Willow shut Nancy's bedroom door behind her and took a deep breath before she all but ran back down to the basement.

*** *** ***

Just a little note to clarify a plot point that seems to have not been very clear from some of the reviews and emails I've gotten. I hate explaining plot points like this because it always makes me feel like I've failed in my writing if I haven't made it clear enough, but enough people seem confused that I think I need to. Angel is not supporting Spike by not going along with Nancy's "stake him in his sleep and throw Buffy out" plan. Angel does NOT think Spike is a good guy, As you'll recall, there was definite antagonism between the two of them when they talked outside by Spike's car. I didn't include the scene where Angel and Nancy talk because this isn't a story about them, and I didn't think at the time it was necessary, but maybe I was wrong. Nancy does, however, make mention of Angel worrying she'd get hurt if she went after Spike. That is why Angel's reluctant to support Nancy's plan to go after Spike. Nancy and Spike have been barely evenly matched in the past, and Angel is afraid that if he's fighting for his mate, it'll give Spike the advantage. Angel has some experience with mated vampires and knows that they become very, very dangerous when their mates are threatened. Angel does think something should be done about Spike, he just thinks Nancy needs to proceed with caution for her own good. This does not mean Angel has accepted Spike as part of the good guys, or that Nancy's necessarily correct in her thoughts that Angel not wanting to go right after Spike means Angel's not fully re-ensouled. Everything clear now?

Please take a moment to review!

"Nancy's done something," Willow said as soon as she was back in the basement with Buffy and Spike. "I don't know what exactly, but she was all freakishly calm despite how she'd been freaking out last night, and she told me not to worry about Buffy because things were going to sort themselves out and she'd be 'out of our hair' soon enough.'"

Spike frowned at Willow's report, his hand going to the small of Buffy's back protectively. "I don't like the sound of that at all. Did you get any sense of what she was planning?"

Willow shook her head. "No. She had her 'I know a secret' face, which means she's not going to spill, but she's definitely up something. And since she's sitting up there, calmly looking at shoes, I'm thinking she's got something specific already in motion. Otherwise, she'd still be all twitchy like she was last night."

"Okay then. Buffy, I want you out of here. Now."

Buffy whipped around to look at Spike. "I'm not leaving you."

"Kitten, the sun's up, and I don't know this place well enough yet to gauge the nearest sewer entrance. I didn't spend a lot of time bothering the Slayer in the day. I'll be fine until nightfall. But I want you far away from Nancy and in a safe place right now. Red, is there someplace you can take her?"

Willow frowned, thinking for a moment before she smiled and exclaimed, "Oz!"

"The great and powerful wizard?" Buffy asked, nose wrinkled.

"No, Oz is my boyfriend. Nancy doesn't pay a lot of attention to my personal life, so she doesn't know where he lives. Plus, his parents are currently out of town, so less questions," Willow explained.

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Spike asked.

Willow nodded. "Yes. Oz is a really great guy, and he doesn't like Nancy very much. He doesn't think she's been a particularly good friend to me, and he's sensitive about that." Willow smiled slightly. "It's cute."

Buffy smiled back for a moment. She hadn't expected Willow to have a boyfriend, but apparently she not only did have one, but she was rather smitten as well. But her smile quickly faded as her attention came back to the situation at hand. "I don't like leaving you, Spike. Can't you just like, run out to the car with your coat over your head or something?"

Spike shook his head. "It'll call too much attention to us leaving. I don't want Nancy to know you're gone, at least not right away. I want you to sneak upstairs real quiet like, go out the back door, and then get yourself to Red's friend's house as quickly as you can. I'll find you, right after sunset. Just when it gets dark, relax and open yourself up to the claim, and I'll know where you are, kitten."

"I don't like this," Buffy said softly. "It scares me to be separated from you now."

"I know, baby. But you're not safe here, not with the Slayer all out of sorts." Spike pulled her into a kiss, trying his best to reassure her with his touch even when he was uncertain himself. "I'll be with you again, as soon as I can," he promised her as he pulled away.

"I'll hold you to that," Buffy said, her hand reaching out to squeeze his.

"I know you will." Reluctantly, Spike let go of Buffy. "Now off, both of you. Don't stop until you've gotten to safety."

Buffy nodded and started to walk off with Willow, only to run back to Spike's arms and kiss him one more time before she was able to leave.

*** *** ***

"Willow, don't panic and don't turn around, but there's a black van that's been following us for the last couple of blocks."

At Buffy's announcement, Willow did force herself not to turn around and stare at the van in question, but the not panicking part was proving to be a little difficult. "What do we do, Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Just stay as calm as you can and keep walking," Buffy replied. "We need to find a public place where we can hide out for a while."

"Okay, walking. I can do walking," Willow said, even as fear curled inside of her stomach. Something about this frightened her even more than when she was face to face with a vampire. Teenaged girls being followed by a van while walking to a friend's house was the sort of thing you heard on the news. It was a situation your parents told you not to get in, the sort you learned to fear in school.

Beside her, Buffy looked much calmer than her redheaded companion, but inside Buffy was rising to near panic levels herself. She wished Spike was there with her and cursed the afternoon sun for keeping them apart. She'd feel safer with him.

They had almost made it to the end of the street when suddenly, the van sped up, then came to a screeching halt in front of the girls. The side door slid open and three men jumped out, one barking orders to the others. Buffy fell into a defensive stance, but they were ready for her, a fourth man appearing unexpectedly, armed with a cattle prod. He took advantage of Buffy's surprise, and even as she landed a swift kick to one of the men, the fourth one hit her with the prod, her body twitching violently before she fell to the ground.

Willow screamed and ran into the fray, her fear for her friend suddenly overriding her fear for herself. She was no match for the men, however, and the first one struck her hard across the face, sending her tumbling down to the pavement. Willow's head hit the hard surface of the road, and her world went black.

*** *** ***

Spike knew the instant something happened to Buffy. Shared pain tore through him, and he double over from both the physical ache and the knowledge his mate had been harmed. Quickly, however, he shook it off, knowing that if Buffy was in trouble, something had to be done.

And he knew just the person to get his answers from.

Fully enraged and demon visage present, Spike stormed up to the Slayer's door and ripped it off its hinges with a roar. Nancy gasped, her body trembling as Spike went to her and snatched her up, pinning her up against the wall with a thrust hard enough to bruise even her.

"What did you do?" Spike growled.

Nancy shook. In all her time fighting vampires, she'd never seen one act quite like this, not even Spike. She realized in an instant that if Spike wanted his third Slayer, he had her.

"I didn't do anything!" Nancy insisted, desperate to save herself. She knew she had no chance against him in a fight now, not when he was all fangs and blind fury.

"Don't lie to me, bitch," Spike growled, slamming Nancy back against the wall as he did. "You did something to my mate."

"Spike, I've been right up here in my room all day! I couldn't have done anything to Buffy!"

Spike roared, ready to hit her again, when he felt something sharp against his back.

"Drop her, Spike, or I will fire this crossbow," Giles said, his tone even.

Reluctantly, Spike let go of Nancy, and the Slayer slid to the floor. "Put the crossbow down, Watcher," Spike said. "If you know anything about claims at all, you know killing me will only hurt Buffy, too."

"Which is why we all need to calm down here," Giles said. He lowered his weapon enough to let Spike step away from Nancy, though he kept it in his hands.

"Giles, I didn't do anything," Nancy said, looking up at her Watcher from the floor. "I don't know what he's talking about."

"Something's happened to Buffy," Spike said, his eyes flashing with anger as he spoke. "I felt it, though the claim. She's been hurt." The full weight of the situation hit him as the initial surge of uncontrollable rage began to fade. He'd sent Buffy out, thinking she'd be safe, and all he'd done was led her right into danger. His legs trembled beneath him, and he braced his hand against the wall to keep upright.

"Where is she? Did she leave the house?" Giles asked.

"Yeah. She went somewhere with Red." Spike didn't want to give too many more details, not with Nancy still there. He watched as she rose to her feet again, and he fought the urge to rip out her throat.

"Willow? Why was she with Willow?" Nancy asked. "She said she wasn't going to be around Buffy anymore."

Spike glared at the Slayer. "There's more important issues here than whether or not the girl's still your number one best friend," he snapped. "Someone hurt Buffy, and I know you had a part in it."

"I've been in my room all day!" Nancy protested. "I didn't even know Buffy and Willow were gone—how could I have had something to do with what happened to Buffy?"

"You had plenty of time to work something up last night," Spike said, his cold gaze unwavering from Nancy's face. Nancy slinked backwards.

"Spike, I don't think there's any reason to leap to the conclusion that Nancy was somehow responsible for whatever's happened to Buffy. Perhaps had it been you, but my Slayer is not in the habit of harming humans," Giles said, his hand still on his weapon.

At that, Spike turned to the Watcher. "You sure about that, mate? She certainly was quick to deem Joyce as evil. You think if she didn't think the same thing about Buffy she wouldn't try to take her out?"

"I already said I was wrong about Joyce and Buffy!" Nancy protested. "Giles, you can't listen to the vampire over me!"

Giles glanced between the two, and Spike thought he might have seen a flicker of uncertainty on the man's face, though it was gone quickly. "Even if that were the case, and Nancy did believe Buffy needed to be taken down, she would not be part of some conspiracy as you're suggesting, Spike. It's simply ludicrous."

Frustration boiled inside of Spike. The Watcher was deluding himself, not wanting to see what was right in front of his face. Spike could practically smell the lie every time Nancy opened her mouth, and her accelerated heartbeat with every thing she said only confirmed that for him further. And clearly the idea of Nancy conspiring against Buffy wasn't as "ludicrous" as Giles claimed if Willow had no trouble believing it.

"She's got a hand in this, Watcher," Spike said evenly. "I'd bet my lack of life on it. Now I've got to find Buffy."

Spike started towards the stairs, but stopped short when Giles grabbed his arm. "It's the middle of the day. You won't do Buffy a bit of good as a pile of dust."

"I can stay underground until the sun's gone," Spike replied.

"And do what, stick your nose out of sewer grates?" Giles asked.

"No, but I could get a lock on her through the claim as soon as she becomes more cognizant," Spike said. "I think she's unconscious right now, her mind's real fuzzy, but when it clears up, I'll be able to find her."

"Then you can look for her," Giles told him. "Right now, you might just end up going in the opposite direction if you're wandering around underground."

"I'm not bloody waiting around here doing nothing!"

"I'll look for her," Nancy said quickly, wanting out of the house and away from Spike more than anything else. She had no doubt in her mind that the vampire still wanted her very much dead.

"Like hell you will!" Spike yelled. "You're the one who caused this in the first place. Don't think for a second that I don't know that."

"I will search with her. We'll look for any signs of Buffy or Willow," Giles said. "Spike, do you know where they were headed?"

Spike glanced warily at Nancy for a moment, but then figured that since Buffy had already been attacked, there was no point in keeping what would've been their destination a secret any longer. "They were on their way to Red's boyfriend's house."

"Ah, yes, Oz," Giles said with a nod. "I know where the boy lives. I drove Willow over there once after she had been helping me in the library."

"Good," Spike said, glad to know Giles knew where to begin to look. Maybe Buffy would turn out to be all right. Maybe whatever had hurt her and knocked her unconscious had then left her alone.

Spike didn't really believe that for a second, despite how nice it sounded in his head.

"I'll let you know the moment we find something," Giles promised the vampire.

"And I'm heading out to look on my own the second the sun goes down," Spike replied.

Giles nodded. He hadn't expected anything else. "Come along, Nancy," he said tersely to his Slayer as he led her out of the house.

As soon as they were gone, Spike slumped to the ground, helplessness washing over him.

*** *** ***

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Willow groaned, reluctantly swimming back towards consciousness as her head screamed at her to close her eyes again.

"Willow, wake up. Come on, open your eyes."

She knew that voice… With effort, she forced herself to look up. "Giles?"

"Oh thank god," Giles said, relief flooding him at the sound of Willow speaking. She'd looked so close to death when he'd found her, the steady rise and fall of her chest the only thing that told him she was still with them at all. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"There…there was a van. It was following us." Willow frowned, trying to remember while everything was so foggy. "Some men jumped out and…" She gasped. "Oh my god, Giles, they got Buffy!"

Giles swallowed. "Can you tell me anything about these men at all?"

"No. It was so quick, I didn't…" Willow frowned, a memory pushing itself through the haze of her mind. "They were talking to each other, and they had British accents."

At that, Giles paled. "The Council."

Now, Nancy spoke for the first time, and Willow was surprised to note she was even there. "Giles, I know you don't want to hear this because of what you had with Buffy's mother and everything, but if the Watchers' Council got Buffy, they may have had a good reason."

"Yeah, and I guess I must be evil, too, since they made me hit my head," Willow grumbled, trying to pull herself up but soon abandoning the plan.

"They didn't take you," Nancy said.

"No, they left her unconscious in the middle of the road," Giles snapped. "If we hadn't come along when we did, Willow could very well have died. It's high time you come to the realization that everyone else around you has, Nancy—the Watchers' Council is involved in something very sinister."

Nancy didn't agree in the least, though she held her tongue this time. Quentin Travers had told her Buffy was indeed a threat and that she had been striking out against the Council with her vampire lover for some time now. Giles was simply too blinded by his feelings for the turncoat Slayer, Joyce Summers.

Instead, Nancy said, "We need to get Willow home. She needs to rest now." She reached her hand down to the redhead, but Willow didn't take it.

"What about Buffy?" Willow asked. "I saw them hit her with something. She was hurt."

"We'll find Buffy," Giles replied. "But Nancy is right. You've got a nasty bump on your head, and you need rest."

Willow let Giles help her up, leaning heavily on him as she struggled to stand. "But you'll find Buffy?" she asked, seeking reassurance.

"Yes, we will. Now come along, my dear. I'll drive you home."

"I'm going to stay out longer," Nancy said. "Keep looking to see if I can find any traces of what happened to her."

Giles's expression was skeptical as he regarded Nancy for a moment. Just minutes ago she'd proposed the Council had had cause for nabbing Buffy, and now she was offering to search more for her? It was strange, and very unlike Nancy when she was certain she was right about something. Giles thought back to Spike's accusation earlier that Nancy would've helped someone take out Buffy, had Nancy convinced herself Buffy needed taking out.

If that were indeed the case, maybe it was for the best if Nancy stayed away from them.

"Yes, do that," Giles replied. "And please, call me immediately if you find anything at all."

"I will," Nancy said with a nod.

Giles gave her one last look before helping Willow to his car.

*** *** ***

Spike hadn't moved from his spot in the hallway after Nancy and Giles had left. Instead, he kept trying to connect to Buffy through the claim, desperate to get a lock on her position.

"Come on, baby," he said softly to himself. "Wake up and tell me where you are…"

"Spike! Are you still here?"

Spike jumped up to his feet at the sound of Giles calling for him, and headed down the stairs. "Did you find something?"

The look on Spike's face now further solidified Giles's growing belief that the vampire did indeed feel something real for Buffy. He looked every bit the worried husband, his genuine concerned etched into every feature. As such, Giles hated to tell him what he'd discovered. "We found Willow, unconscious and on the ground," Giles said. "After reviving her, the girl claimed that Buffy was taken by a group of men in a black van. Willow also described them as having British accents, which leads me to believe…"

"The Council," Spike finished for him. "Bloody hell." Spike hit the wall with his fist, and Giles chose not to comment on the hole he left in the plaster.

"Have you had any luck determining where Buffy is?" Giles asked.

Spike shook his head. "No. She's still out." He pointed at Giles. "You know, Watcher, despite what you're trying to convince yourself, the Slayer's in on this. You want to know where Buffy is, you let me question her. Where is she, anyway?"

Giles coughed into his hand. "She claimed she was going to search for more clues pertaining to Buffy's whereabouts."

The change in Giles's tone from earlier when he'd been speaking about Nancy made Spike's eyebrow arch. "Oh? And now you don't believe her, do you?"

"After discerning that it was most likely the Council that took Buffy, I'm more willing to entertain the thought of Nancy having a hand in it," Giles admitted, looking somewhat sheepish as he did.

"Nancy was why Buffy was leaving," Spike said. "I couldn't give all the details with the Slayer standing right there, but Willow spoke to her and knew something was up. She said Nancy was entirely too calm and assured her that Buffy would be out of their hair soon."

Giles winced. It pained him to admit, but the evidence seemed to point to Nancy having played at least some part in this. The Council had clearly known where to find Buffy and had also seemed to think they had reason enough to come after her violently. The only person whom Giles could think of to give them that information was Nancy. "I knew she was uncomfortable about all of this, but I never thought her capable of making such a potentially deadly action."

Giles stopped for a moment, taking in and exhaling several deep breaths. "I would've thought that even with her doubts, she would take into consideration that the Council has already arranged the death of one Slayer."

"Well, apparently you gave the chit a little more credit than she deserved," Spike replied.

"We could still be jumping to unfounded conclusions," Giles argued, though his words held little conviction.

"We're not, Watcher, and you know it. Face it, your Slayer sold out anyone who the Council would have any struggle with, yourself included."

"Be that as it may, we need to focus on finding Buffy now before things get any worse."

"There we're in complete agreement," Spike replied, his arms crossed over his chest. "But I don't like the waiting around here bit. If they keep her drugged, I may never be able to get a clear lock on her." He peeked around Giles at the closed curtains. "If the sun would just bloody go down, I could be out there, seeing if I could sense anything if I was a little closer to her."

"That might not do us any good," Giles said. "For all we know, they've put her on a plane back to England."

The look on Spike's face told Giles that he'd neither thought of that nor liked the sound of it now that he had.

Before Spike could say anything else, the phone rang, and Giles went downstairs to answer it. The Watcher spoke with the caller in hushed tones, but Spike's vampire hearing allowed him to still pick up enough of the conversation to know it was Red and that she was saying something Giles seemed to be optimistic about. Spike went down the stairs and waited for Giles in the foyer.

Soon, Giles ended the call and came back to talk to Spike. "That was Willow. She says shortly after I dropped her off, she remembered a spell she'd seen in one of Jenny's old books. Supposedly, it's a sort of location spell, used to pinpoint where a person is on a map."

"And she thinks she can do it?" Spike asked.

"She's fairly certain. It would take less power than the spell she did to restore Angel's soul, after all. She read me the list of ingredients, and I'm going to pick them up from the magic shop downtown, then get her and bring her back here to perform the spell."

"She's all right for all of that? You said she was hurt when they grabbed Buffy."

"She was injured, yes, but she seemed convinced on the phone that she was well enough to do this, and we have very little time to waste—as I'm sure you're aware of."

Spike nodded. He was. Painfully aware. Every second he didn't have Buffy there with him made him feel as if he was another second closer to losing her forever. "And I suppose I'm to sit around here and hope she wakes up, wherever she is?" Spike asked, less than thrilled with that part of the plan.

"You don't have much of another choice right now," Giles replied. He hesitated a moment before placing his hand against Spike's arm. "We'll find her."

Spike glanced down at the Watcher's hand, the comfort from the other man seeming strange, yet Spike knew at the same time it was genuine. "We have to," he said, letting the intensity of emotion he was feeling choke his voice for the first time in front of Giles. "If something happened to Buffy, I…"

"I know," Giles said with a nod, letting his hand drop as he did. "But you can search for her best here right now, letting the bond between you work to tell you where she is."

Spike hated that, hated patiently sitting around waiting for a clue to Buffy's whereabouts, but he also knew Giles was right. "Hurry up and get the little witch so we can do this spell of hers."

"I'll be back as quickly as I can be," Giles assured Spike before leaving him alone again.

*** *** ***

Nancy glanced around nervously, her arms crossed over her chest. This was where she'd been told to wait, but she'd been standing there for fifteen minutes past the rendezvous time, and it was starting to make her antsy.

"Ah, Slayer, you are here. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

Nancy turned towards the man as he approached her. "Mr. Travers. It's no trouble at all. I know you're a busy man."

"Yes, it has been a rather full day," Travers replied. "Do you have any more news to report?"

"They know it was the Council who took Buffy," Nancy said. "Willow heard your men speaking and recognized their accents. Giles put two and two together."

"Ah, Rupert Giles. He always was quite the intelligent man. It's a pity he had to become a traitor to our cause."

"It's Buffy's fault. Her and her mother. They corrupted him," Nancy asserted.

"The cause is no matter, my dear. Only the actions," Travers replied. "And I'm afraid your actions have been quite questionable as well."

Nancy frowned. "What do you mean? I've been loyal to the Council, and I know my duties as a Slayer."

Travers tsked and shook his head. "This coming from a Slayer who would bed a vampire? I'm afraid that isn't one of your duties at all, child."

Before Nancy could protest further, a man came out from where he'd been hiding nearby and stabbed her arm with a needle. Nancy tried to speak, but could only manage a pitiful squeak, the world spinning as her legs went out from under her.

Travers looked down at her. "We at the Watchers' Council believe that it's high time a new Slayer to be Called, one who hopefully does not allow herself to be seduced by the vampires she should be eliminating. We were going to wait until your Cruciamentum for this, but I suppose now will work just as well."

Quentin Travers waved his hand to someone off in the distance before he walked off, the man who had drugged Nancy following close behind. Nancy felt fear flooding her body as she realized she couldn't move her limbs.

All she could do was remain helpless on the ground and watch as a vampire approached her, a cruel smile on his face as he prepared to take the life of a Slayer.

*** *** ***

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Buffy groaned as her eyes open and the world seemed to spin around her. She didn't know where she was or how she got there. All she knew was she needed someone there…she needed her mate…

"Spike…" she said weakly, calling out to him with her mind as well as her voice.

"Sir, it looks as if the girl is awake."

"Well, get her back out then. The last thing we need is the vampire barging in here before we've had a chance to get a good look at her."

"So we're going to keep her out indefinitely then?"

"No. The vampire won't be a problem for long. I've taken care of it. Just put her back to sleep now, before she causes trouble."

Buffy's groggy mind managed to make sense of the voices she heard nearby, and she frowned. The vampire…Spike? And what did that man mean when he said Spike wouldn't be a problem for long?

Buffy tried to push herself up. She had to find Spike. She had to make sure he was okay.

"Easy now, ducks. You just stay put."

She looked up, trying in vain to make out the blurry face that now loomed over her. But then she felt a sharp prick to her arm, and the world went dark again.

*** *** ***

"Spike…"

Buffy's voice sounded clearly in his mind, and Spike immediately jumped up from where he'd been sitting on the cot in the basement. Buffy was awake. She was in pain, and she was confused, but she was awake.

The sun had not yet set, though it would soon, and for Spike, that was good enough. He'd had enough practice in the past century avoiding the sun's deadly rays, and he didn't have any time to waste in responding to Buffy's call.

Spike went up the stairs and to the back door, coming to an abrupt stop moments after flinging it open when something slumped into his arms. With a start, he realized what he was now holding.

The drained body of the Slayer…

Spike let her go, and Nancy tumbled lifeless to the ground. He didn't have time to deal with her now, nor did he have the sympathy to particularly want to. He needed to find Buffy before…

She lost consciousness again…

Spike cried out as the connection Buffy had made with him slipped away, and he found himself once again cut off from his mate. He tried desperately to find her again, but all he felt was the fuzziness that told him she'd been heavily drugged. Tears stung his eyes even as he clenched his fists tightly enough for his nails to cut into his palms.

He heard when Giles and Willow came into the house, knew when they found him in the kitchen. He heard Willow gasp as she saw Nancy's body, and he saw Giles as he ran to his Slayer, checking frantically for signs of life. But he didn't snap to focus on the moment until Giles had grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall.

"You killed her," the Watcher accused, his tone cold.

Spike shook his head. "No, I didn't. I found her like that just now. I opened the backdoor and she fell onto me."

"You're lying! You wanted revenge for whatever role she may have played in what happened to Buffy!"

"Yeah, I did," Spike admitted. "But I didn't take it. Buffy woke up for a moment, and I was hoping I could find her, but before I could leave, I found Nancy instead—already dead."

"Giles, I think we should trust him—at least for now," Willow said from where she was now kneeling beside Nancy's body. She had tears in her eyes, seeing someone she'd known like this hard to take even with the certainty in her mind of Nancy's betrayal. "We're going to need him to find Buffy."

"If I'd killed the bird, I wouldn't be denying it—and certainly not from fear of you, Watcher." Spike brought his arms up faster than Giles could blink and pushed him away.

Giles stumbled backwards, grabbing on to the edge of the kitchen island to right himself. It was one of the few times in his life that he could remember truly being at a loss for what to do. Nancy—his Slayer—was dead on the ground, her young friend Willow kneeling beside the girl's body. It was a moment Watchers spent their whole careers preparing for, the one when the Slayer they had trained and protected lost her final battle. Yet, Giles didn't feel prepared at all. His grief warred with his anger at Nancy for the possibility she may have in fact betrayed someone he cared about and therefore, him as well. Furthermore, they were still in the middle of a crisis, with a girl he felt something akin to a father's love for at the mercy of the same people who had killed her mother.

And to top it all off, the girl's lover—a vampire whom Giles was not completely convinced hadn't just killed his Slayer—was standing in his kitchen. Life on the Hellmouth at its finest.

Giles needed to shut off his emotions and prioritize. As much as it pained him to admit it, Nancy's death was not the most pressing issue. It was done, and nothing could be done to save the Slayer now. Instead, they needed to move forward with rescuing Buffy before she was added to the body count. "Willow, go into the living room and begin setting up for the locator spell. I'll join you shortly."

Willow looked up, her eyes shining with tears. "What about Nancy?"

"There's nothing we can do for her right now," Giles replied. He bent down and picked up Nancy's body, cradling her in his arms. "I'll be in soon, Willow."

Willow stood up, letting Giles walk past her and up the stairs to Nancy's room. There, he gently laid the girl on the bed. A sob lodged itself in his throat, but he kept it down, having no time for tears. His tenure as Nancy's Watcher had been a difficult one, the girl's attitude frequently testing the limits of his patience, but he couldn't help the sense of failure he felt now.

If Nancy had indeed betrayed them to the Council despite what they had done to a fellow Slayer, had it been some failure on his part that would lead her to believe she should make that choice? Had he let his personal clashes with the girl get in the way of instilling in her a sense of true loyalty and justice? Had he been too detached, led her to feel more of a connection with people all the way in England than she did with her own Watcher?

The whole situation left him at a loss. He didn't know what to feel about anything: Nancy, her assumed betrayal, or even his own abilities to function as a Watcher.

Perhaps he had been too successful as a Watcher. He'd shaped Nancy into the kind of Slayer Quentin Travers had wanted, one who would remain loyal to the Council above all others. She had been the sort of Slayer that Joyce had refused to be.

Giles could spend no more of his time now thinking about all of this. Buffy was still in danger, and they had not a moment to lose. He unfolded Nancy's quilt from the bottom of her bed, then draped it over her body.

*** *** ***

Spike sat on the couch, trying his best to stay seated and not fidget too much as Giles and Willow performed the locator spell. Willow had told him she needed concentration and the pacing he had been doing was breaking it. So he forced himself to sit. They needed to do this to find Buffy.

Small lights began to hover over the map that lay between the Watcher and the witch, and Spike's eyes were drawn to it, his attention caught now. The lights moved faster, then came together, falling down to the map and illuminating a spot brightly.

"We did it!" Willow exclaimed, a smile breaking over her face as she looked down at the map. "The spell worked!"

"She's in the warehouse district," Giles announced before shaking his head and adding, "How very cliché."

"Yeah, well, villains can't resist a good cliché. Take it from a former one," Spike announced as he got to his feet. "If we know where she is, let's go."

Giles and Willow stood as well, and Giles went around to the couch and pulled a leather bag out from behind it. "Weapons," he explained. "I'm sure we'll need them."

"Well, then, now that we're loaded up, we can head on out," Willow said.

Giles turned his attention to her. "Are you sure you're up to this? I know you've accompanied Nancy on patrols before, but we have no idea what we're facing here. Furthermore, the members of the Council are human."

Willow crossed her arms over her chest. "Giles, these guys killed Nancy, kidnapped Buffy, and made me hit my head. They are so going down."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Spike smiled a little at that. Willow was a tougher one than he'd ever given her credit for in the past. He was glad he hadn't managed to kill her. "Keep your eyes open, Red. Don't think that just because they're human they aren't as dangerous as any demon you've faced," Spike told her. "If things get too hairy for you, stick with me. I'll see to it that you walk out of there."

Willow gave him a nod. "I will."

Giles found himself taken aback by their exchange, Spike proving to be more and more of an anomaly the longer he knew him. The vampire's concern for Willow appeared to be nothing but genuine, as was his promise to protect her if things got too rough. Despite what his Watchers' Council training told him to believe, Giles was having definite doubts that the scene he'd walked in on in the kitchen with Spike standing over Nancy's body was quite what it seemed, even if Spike had killed Slayers in the past.

After all, so had Quentin Travers…

Giles wondered if Travers had come to Sunnydale himself, or if he'd merely sent his lackeys. His hand tightened around the handle of the weapons bag, and Giles hoped he would have the chance to face Travers one on one. Buffy was not the only one who wanted blood to be spilled for the crime of Joyce's death.

"Let's go," Giles said to the other two. "Buffy's waiting for us."

Without a word, Willow and Spike followed him out to the car.

*** *** ***

"Mr. Travers, we're getting reports that the vampire is accompanying Rupert Giles and the former Slayer's witch friend from their base of operations."

Quentin Travers frowned as he was brought that piece of news. "They're leaving now? All three of them? What about the Slayer's body?"

"We received visual confirmation that it was found, sir; however, they seem to be abandoning her for now."

This was certainly unexpected… Travers had counted on Rupert Giles having a softer heart than this, hoping his grief for the loss of his Slayer would take him out of the game—and compel Giles to take that meddlesome vampire out as well. "Very well then. It appears we will not be able to remain any longer on the Hellmouth. Prep the jet and make sure the girl is drugged enough for the trip back to England. I can begin my tests on her there."

Travers's young lieutenant saluted. "I will, sir. I'll tell the men now we're leaving for home." He turned and exited, Travers now on his own again.

Travers walked across the room to the cell they'd placed Buffy in, smiling cruelly. She was the only daughter of a Slayer he'd ever heard of, the only other Slayer in recent history to give birth having had a boy. Furthermore, if Nancy had been correct in her assertion that this girl was indeed mated to a vampire like William the Bloody, well, little Buffy was quite a special find indeed. Travers wondered what sort of power the girl held in her small body, already surprised to see how quickly she recovered from the doses of tranquilizer they'd been giving her. Perhaps with the certain incentives, he could persuade her to put whatever special talents she possessed to good use—as in, to use for him. She could turn out to be quite useful against his enemies, even more so than the Slayers, who tended to have those unfortunate moral issues.

Surely a woman who shared a bed with a vampire as cruel as her lover was reputed to be wouldn't have many of those.

She could be his secret weapon, the force he wielded in the dark while he paraded a good, loyal Slayer in front of the rest of the Council. With Buffy by his side, he could finally gain the complete control he'd been searching for.

He would hunt down his enemies, and she would crush them.

His smile grew.

*** *** ***

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Spike stood in the middle of the empty warehouse and roared. He clenched his fists by his side, frustrated that he had no one to make suffer for his pain. He'd had a moment of hope he was close to finding his mate, and now it was lost again.

"Maybe I did the spell wrong, and we're not looking in the right place," Willow offered softly. "I'd never done it before, and I am pretty new to the whole witch thing."

"No," Spike said, shaking his head, yet not turning to look at the girl. "Buffy was here. Her scent's still fresh." He leveled his eyes with the spot where it was the strongest—a small, metal cage—and shivered.

"Would you say she's been gone for long, Spike?" Giles asked.

"No, not long. From the strength of her scent, I'd say we just missed her."

Giles reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone, then cursed. "Bloody hell, I can't get reception in this damn place. I'll be right back."

Spike turned, but before he could ask the Watcher who he was calling, Giles was already out the door.

"We'll find her, Spike," Willow said after a moment.

"We have to," Spike replied. "I love her so bloody much, I can't…" He stopped, forcing his emotions back in check before he started blubbering in front of the girl. "They've hurt her. I can smell her blood in here. And they kept her in there…" He pointed to the cage.

Willow gasped. It was small, probably only enough room to sit or curl up in, and it looked hard and cold—something she'd think it was inhumane to stick a dog into, never mind a human woman. "We'll save Buffy," Willow assured Spike again, although she knew as she said it the words were as much for herself as for him.

Moments later, Giles came bursting back into the warehouse. "Come on. I think we've got a break."

"What's going on?" Spike asked.

"I'll explain it all in the car. Hurry now. We mustn't waste any time."

Agreeing, Spike and Willow followed Giles out of the warehouse.

*** *** ***

"What do you mean we don't have permission for take off?"

Quentin Travers's lieutenant cowered. "I'm dreadfully sorry, sir, but that's the word from air traffic control. It appears that not all is in order with our flight plan."

"That's ridiculous!" Travers bellowed. "Don't they know who I am!?"

"I tried to tell them you're important, sir. They wouldn't listen."

Travers seethed. "This won't do. We need to secure our cargo back in England."

"I know, sir. The pilot is doing all he can to get clearance, but they're refusing to let us go."

Travers slammed his fist against the side of the plane. "Then make them stop refusing! We have no time to waste with this nonsense!"

"I'll do everything I can, sir," his lieutenant replied before hurrying off again.

Travers swore under his breath. Perhaps it would prove to be less trouble to simply kill the girl after all.

*** *** ***

Buffy felt herself swimming back towards consciousness, though this time, she remained still. Her mind was foggy, but something inside of her struggled to remind her every time she'd let on that she was awake before, something bad had happened.

She lay still, her eyes closed, as awareness began to return. Her body ached and her head throbbed, but Buffy forced herself to stay silent. She knew she wasn't alone, wherever she was, and as she listened to the nearby voices become clearer, her stomach turned.

"She is a pretty little thing. Tits are a little small for me, but I could do with a handful."

A second man chuckled. "Or a mouthful. You think Mr. Travers would let us have a go with 'er?"

"He should," a third voice added. "We've already been through enough trouble getting the chit, we deserve some reward. She broke Reggie's nose."

A fourth man spoke up then. "I don't think I'd want to touch her. The way she fought when we grabbed her—that wasn't like a human. I don't want to stick my cock in no demon cunt. Might bloody fall off."

The longer Buffy listened to their conversation, the harder time she had being still. She needed to get out of there, especially if they were seriously considering what they were currently so callously discussing. Tentatively, she cracked one eye open and saw that she was on an airplane, shoved in what appeared to be a cargo hold. The men who were speaking were a few feet away, seated with their backs to her. She tried to move her arms then her legs, and found they'd bound her hands, yet not her feet.

A slow smile crossed Buffy's face. Apparently, they'd believed whatever they'd drugged her with would be enough to keep her out for longer. Idiots…

Adrenaline pumping through her, Buffy got to her feet. She tensed her arms then pulled, snapping the thick rope around her wrists as if it were mere string.

One of the men turned and saw her, surprise on his face for a moment before he shouted to the others to get her. Buffy's smile didn't falter even as they rushed her.

This time, she was ready for them.

*** *** ***

"Buffy's awake," Spike announced from the passenger's seat of Giles's car. "And bloody hell, she's pissed off."

"Is she all right?" Giles asked, giving the car more gas as he did. "Is she hurt?"

Spike frowned, concentrating for a moment. "She's in some pain, but she seems to be ignoring it." He swallowed. "She's preparing to fight."

"Who?"

Spike cast a quick, annoyed look at the Watcher. "I can't read her mind. All I can do is get a feel for her emotions. Someone's pissed her off something fierce, and she's wanting to rip them to shreds."

"Can you tell me if we're heading in the right direction at least?" Giles asked.

"Yeah. We're close to her now, and we're getting closer." Spike fought to remain seated in the car, telling himself that even with his vampiric speed, this was most likely the fastest way to Buffy. But his demon was screaming at him to run to his mate and hurt whomever it was threatening her now.

Instead, he gripped the side of the seat until he felt the stuffing slipping through his fingers and hoped they could make it before Buffy was hurt any more.

*** *** ***

Quentin Travers was not currently what he'd call a happy man. Air traffic control was still refusing to let them take off, claiming now that their papers were not in well-enough order for them to cross overseas. The argument that they'd been good enough to allow them to leave England had done little to tip things in Travers's favor.

Nothing on this trip was going in his favor, as a matter of fact. He'd just gotten the call that the newest Slayer had been identified, a teenaged girl living in South Boston. From the preliminary reports on her, she sounded like she'd be headstrong and willful—and nothing but a problem for the Council. If this was what he had to work with now, perhaps he'd been too quick in eliminating the previous Slayer. She had at least been willing to defy her own Watcher in favor of Travers himself, though the fact that she'd taken a vampire as a lover still suggested a rebellious streak he hadn't wished to deal with.

And now he was given a girl who had had a rap sheet almost as soon as she'd been able to walk. "Frying pan, fire, Quentin," he thought.

He needed to get back to England and regroup. There, he could devise a plan to take out this Faith Lehane as well and hope that next time, the Powers That Be decided to make the Slayer someone a little more…manageable. He really did wish he could cut out the middleman as far as the actual Calling of Slayers was concerned and be able to choose his own. Perhaps that was what he should be looking into. How could the Council of Watchers ever hope to retain their control over the Slayers if they continually had to deal with such disobedient girls?

Suddenly, the door of the plane burst open, and Travers watched as one of his men sailed past him and landed on the tarmac. The man groaned, blood seeping from his nose.

Fear curled in his belly as Travers turned and saw Buffy still engaged in combat with his other three men—and seeming to be winning. Despite the fact that she was much smaller than any of her opponents, Buffy had gained the advantage, the speed and strength of the men no match for hers. Travers watched in horror as she dispatched of the next three as easily as she had the first, then jumped down out of the plane.

Travers knew in an instant he'd grossly miscalculated in his plan to get Buffy to work for him. It was a shame to think of all that power and potential going to waste, but she was more of a loose cannon than he'd predicted. And from the way she was looking at him now, Travers found himself wondering if she were as much demon as girl. Her eyes seemed to blaze with the fire of anger, while her mouth was set in a cold line of determination. Blood ran down the side of her face as well as spotted her clothing.

She struck him as being like something primal—and enraged.

Buffy lifted her arm, and it was then that Travers realized she was holding a gun, most likely one she had removed from one of his men. She pointed it at him, gripping the weapon tightly with two hands.

"You killed my mother!"

Travers raised his hands. "Buffy, dear, let's not be hasty. Your mother was killed by a vampire—your companion, William the Bloody, as a matter of fact. Now, I have no doubt that he has filled your mind with all sorts of lies about me in order to hide from you what truly happened, but I can assure you…"

"You're the one with the lies!" Buffy yelled, her hands shaking around the gun. Angry tears streamed down her face, stinging the cuts there, but she ignored them. "You had her murdered! You wanted the power that was hers. Hers!"

"Child, you're mistaken," Travers insisted. "William the Bloody is the true villain here. Why, that's why we came and retrieved you—to try to get you away from him so we could bring you somewhere safe and undo whatever sort of brainwashing the monster's done to you."

"Shut up!" Buffy screamed, the sheer force of her voice making Travers jump. "You tell me one more lie, and I swear I will pull this goddamn trigger!"

"Buffy, dear, I…"

Buffy squeezed the trigger and a bullet ripped through the night air. Travers crumpled to the ground, his breathing labored as he clutched his wounded leg.

"How many do you think you could live through, huh?" Buffy asked, moving so she was standing over him. Travers looked up and saw the gun was now aimed right for his head.

"Buffy, please…"

"Do you think she begged? Do you think my mother wished more than anything in that moment that she could keep her life?"

Travers shook with fear and pain. "I…"

"Tell me you're sorry. Tell me you're sorry you took my mother away from me."

He couldn't deny it any longer—she had him defeated. He was staring death in the face now, and it was all he could do to keep from sobbing for mercy. "I…I'm sorry…"

"It's not good enough!" Buffy yelled. "You took her away, and I can never have her back! I want you to rot in hell, you pathetic son of a bitch."

Buffy cocked the gun, ready to fire again when she heard Spike calling to her.

"Buffy! Stop!"

*** *** ***

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They took the car as close to the plane as they could get, then got out and made the rest of the way on foot. Spike didn't hold back so the humans could keep up with him, but instead sprinted as fast as his vampire speed would allow him to, letting the claim pull him towards his mate.

What he felt coming from her now was waves of emotional turmoil and Spike wanted nothing more than to make that end for her.

He came to an abrupt stop when he saw her, and the scene playing out in front of him was chilling. Buffy stood over a round, older man, a gun leveled with his head. She was crying, trembling, as she yelled at him, and Spike realized the man must be Quentin Travers.

Buffy was finally face to face with the person responsible for her mother's death.

The bodies of four men lay scattered around them, and Spike could tell they were still alive, though unconscious and barely breathing. However, if she pulled the trigger of the gun now, Travers would not be so lucky. Buffy would've gotten her vengeance, but in the process, taken a human life.

His mind flashed back over their relationship, to her horror over feeling him take a life through the claim. While Travers was far from as innocent as his victims had been, there was still something different in killing a human than in killing a soulless demon. Spike knew he'd been speaking the truth when he'd told her humans were just as capable of evil as demons were, but he wasn't sure if Buffy had it in her to carry the burden that came with ending a human life, even an evil one.

One of the things he'd grown to love the most about Buffy was the spark of innocence that remained inside of her, even with all of the darkness she'd had to face. She was good, his mate—a truly pure soul. He knew, because he could feel a piece of that soul inside of him now, helping him to rise above what he used to be and become something new for her. Would that still remained if she executed Quentin Travers? Would she begin to regret it over time? Would killing Travers kill a part of Buffy as well?

Spike didn't know for sure, but it wasn't a chance he was willing to take. He didn't want to lose the Buffy Summers he had grown to love so very much.

"Buffy! Stop!"

She froze at the sound of Spike's voice, her body going rigid. Slowly, she turned her head towards him, though the gun remained pointed at Travers. "I have to do this. He killed my mother, Spike. He killed her…"

"I know, kitten," Spike said, walking towards her with calm, even steps. "But you shouldn't be the one to kill him. You shouldn't have to carry that."

"He's scum, Spike! No better than the demons I've been killing for years! You know that, Spike. You know."

"I know, luv, but he's human, and that's always meant something to you. It might mean something to you again, later, when the betrayal's not so fresh." Spike took a deep breath as he stopped only a few feet away from Buffy. "Sweetheart, I promised you I wouldn't turn you into something you'd hate, and that applies to letting you go through with this now, too. You pull that trigger, and you've taken a human life. Can you honestly live with that for the rest of our lives together, Buffy?"

Buffy's lip trembled as she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "When he killed my mother, he didn't show her any mercy."

"I know, luv," Spike told her again. "And you're not like him."

Spike's words hung between them for a moment before Buffy lowered the gun and collapsed into Spike's arms, sobbing against him. He held her against his chest, murmuring soft words against her hair in an effort to calm her.

Nearby, Quentin Travers kept his head down as he slowly reached into the pocket of his jacket, his hand gripping the handle of his own gun. A cold smile crept to his lips as he drew his weapon, ready to end the little bitch who had dared to threaten him.

Suddenly, Travers lurched forward, a gurgling sound erupting from him as the bolt of a crossbow flew in through his neck. Buffy gasped when the body fell at her feet, the weapon Travers had intended to use on her dropping from his hand and to the ground. She looked up to see Giles standing nearby, his crossbow still raised. Willow stood beside him, her hand over her mouth as she took in the grisly scene.

Buffy turned away, her eyes closing and head going against Spike's chest again. He wrapped his duster around her, as if to shield her from the pain of the outside world. Giles lowered his crossbow, but didn't move more, his body tense with the weight of the day's events. Willow placed her hand on his shoulder.

Finally, Buffy looked up at Spike, her eyes rimmed with red and shining. "Spike, I want to go home."

Spike nodded once. "Let's go, luv."

*** *** ***

Buffy felt better after a hot shower and something to eat, even though she felt oddly tired despite the number of hours she'd probably spent the last day sleeping.

But even with her exhaustion, she also felt an odd sense of restlessness, and she couldn't seem to get her eyes to close. She lay awake on the cot in the basement, staring up at the maze of pipes that decorated the ceiling.

She turned her head at the sound of Spike's boots clunking down the stairs. "How are things up there?" she asked him as he approached the bed.

"Been better, but not as bad as they could be, I suppose. The people from the morgue came and got Nancy. Not a lot of questions asked in this town when a girl turns up drained of blood with puncture wounds to the neck."

Buffy couldn't help the pang of guilt she felt associated with Nancy's death. She knew the other girl had most likely died by trusting the wrong people and betraying Buffy herself, but at the same time, Buffy couldn't help but feel like it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't come here, hadn't gotten Giles involved in all of this. And now Giles… "How is he?" Buffy asked softly.

Spike didn't have to ask who Buffy meant by "he," and he crawled in beside her on the cot, pulling her into his arms as he answered. "He's holding up, I believe. It's got to be a lot for the man to take, but he's trying to deal with it. He said he was going to try to get some sleep."

"Can we stay here in Sunnydale for a little while?" Buffy asked. "I don't want to leave Giles alone after everything that's happened."

"We can stay here as long as you want to, kitten," Spike promised her with a kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you." Buffy wrapped her arms tighter around him, and Spike's throat constricted as he realized just how close he'd been to losing her. Only a few hours before, his mate had still been beyond his reach, taken from him and leaving him feeling powerless in the process. If things had gone differently, if he hadn't been able to get to her when he did…

Spike placed his hand beneath Buffy's chin and raised her face so he could kiss her. Buffy immediately responded, her hands fisting the dark material of his t-shirt as she tried to bring him closer.

Her body was tired, but Buffy still wanted this—needed it. Being separated from Spike had made her physically ache, and now she needed the reassurance that she was truly with him again. He was a part of her—her mate—and for the first time, Buffy allowed herself to embrace all that came with such a designation.

The kiss soon grew in passion as their hands began to roam, Spike's fingers caressing her bare skin beneath the t-shirt she wore as Buffy's worked over the thin cotton and denim that encased him, frustrated at the barrier. Spike pulled away from her, undressing as quickly as he could before he was back on the cot, covering her body with his.

His hands trailed to the hem of the t-shirt Buffy wore, and he pulled it up and over her head, tossing it aside to the basement floor.

It wasn't the time for prolonged foreplay. Both Spike and Buffy were feeling the effects of their brief but painful separation, and tonight their joining was as much about reunion as it was about physical pleasure. They needed each other's touch, the feel of skin against skin and the irrefutable knowledge that the attempts to drive them apart had been in vain.

Spike slid inside of Buffy's damp folds, moaning as he felt her body welcome him inside. He pushed in and out slowly, his eyes closing as he relished the feel—the heat—of his mate.

Suddenly, Buffy's hand came up and rested against his chest, stopping Spike's movements. His eyes opened as he stilled and looked down at her, his face both puzzled and concerned.

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to calm the fears she knew now were pointless. She'd almost lost this chance today, and she wasn't going to let it slip through her fingers again, not after everything she and Spike had been though. Their journey had been bizarre and at times, very difficult, but it had led them to this place all the same.

She moved her hand from his chest to his face, smiling softly as she cupped his cheek. A wave of emotion rose up inside of her as she met his eyes, and she wondered how she ever could've feared something so very right.

"I love you."

With those three simple words, Spike felt his world crash down then rebuild around him, tears coming to his eyes that he didn't bother to wipe away. He held his breath as if it made a difference and looked down at her, knowing without any doubts what she'd told him was true. "Oh, Buffy… I love you, too. Love you so bloody much… Forever."

Buffy smiled, tears forming in her own eyes. "Forever, Spike," she promised, her hands trailing back down to his shoulders, gripping on to him tightly and letting Spike move within her again. His thrusts were steady and strong, affirming with every shift of his hips that they had come through to the other side, still together.

Yet, Buffy needed more. As she accepted and put words to the love she felt for him, Buffy felt the walls inside of her tumbling down and filling her with a joyful peace she'd never known before. She wanted to share this moment with him fully, to let Spike know that yes, she knew the man he had become and loved him for it.

"Claim me again, Spike. Now, the way we should've had the chance for it to be the first time."

Spike looked down into Buffy's wide, hazel eyes. This was how it should've been the first time, a claim made from mutual love and desire. Fate hadn't afforded them that, but they had their second chance now. They'd made it through to the other side.

He slowed the movement of his hips as he reached out to her with one hand, gently brushing her golden hair from her neck. "I love you, Buffy," he told her as his fingers ran along her pulse.

"And I love you, Spike," Buffy replied, the words that she had once feared now so freeing.

Spike stilled for a moment, his cock still nestled snugly inside of Buffy's body. The bones in his face shifted, showing his demon visage, yet still Buffy looked at him with love shining in her eyes.

Then, he descended, his fangs sliding into her with an almost impossible tenderness. Buffy gasped, pleasure enveloping her as he drank from her, strengthening the bond they'd made before.

"Mine," Spike declared, his voice choked with emotion. "Always mine."

"Yours," Buffy confirmed. "Always yours."

Their eyes locked again, and he exploded inside of her as she broke apart around him.

*** *** ***

Before anyone asks, no, that's not the end. There's still one more chapter coming Friday and an epilogue Monday.

Please review!

Buffy had always thought it shouldn't be bright and sunny on the day of a funeral. It never was on television or in the movies. Although she supposed, when she really thought about it, for every funeral to be rainy, it would have to rain every day since people were always dying.

The funeral of Nancy the Vampire Slayer took place on a bright, early spring day. The sun was up and shining, not an ominous cloud in the sky, and birds were singing in the nearby trees. To Buffy, it didn't seem like the sort of day befitting to the funeral of a fallen warrior.

Even when she knew Nancy had betrayed her to the Watchers' Council, Buffy couldn't find it in herself to think of Nancy as anything but a warrior. Personal feelings about the woman herself aside, Buffy saw Nancy as being a victim, much like her own mother, of Quentin Travers's greed and thirst for power. Buffy knew much of the reason why Nancy had done what she had done was because the Council had shaped her to be under their control. She couldn't hate Nancy for that, not when Buffy knew what she did about the Council and what it was capable of.

Besides, looking at Nancy's casket now, it was obvious that the dead Slayer had more than learned her lesson.

If anything, Buffy felt sorry for Nancy. She knew from Giles that Nancy had been taken from her home by the Council at an early age and raised by her first Watcher, only to watch him die shortly after she was Called. From there, she'd been sent to Sunnydale with Giles. Her life must've been lonely, one in which she gave up almost everything in order to serve a group who in the end, had killed her.

She'd died at seventeen, and only five people were in attendance at her funeral. Buffy couldn't find it in her heart to hate anyone whose life had amounted to that.

Buffy stood in the cemetery as a priest spoke over the casket. She was between Giles and Willow, with Oz near his girlfriend, while Nancy's other friend, Xander, stood across from them, alone. He wouldn't look at them, and Willow had told her earlier they'd had a blow-up when she'd told him about Nancy. It appeared that Xander had known the morning after Nancy's call to the Council she'd betrayed Buffy, yet he maintained that Nancy had made the right choice. He firmly believed Nancy had been right about Buffy and that the Slayer had been killed not by the Council, but by Spike. He'd refused to listen to Willow's version of events, and branded her a traitor for siding with Buffy.

Willow was heartbroken, though Buffy felt like she couldn't exactly blame Xander for that either. Grief could make you blind to what was around you, drive you to try to force your anger into places where you could manage it best. She of all people knew that. Maybe someday Xander would come around, see the truth for what it was. Buffy hoped for Willow's sake, he would.

He'd argued when he'd seen Buffy arrive with Giles that she had no right to be there, and in a way, Buffy agreed with him. She certainly hadn't been Nancy's friend, and her arrival in Sunnydale had played a part in the Slayer's death, although that had been more of Nancy's own doing than of Buffy's. But Buffy wanted to be there. Nancy had spent almost three years as a Slayer, and despite how things had ended for her, she'd fought well and bravely. And like Joyce the Vampire Slayer before her, Nancy had been betrayed by the people who should've worked hardest to protect her, and she'd had the glory of a final battle truly worthy of a Slayer stolen from her.

Buffy felt she deserved more honor for her sacrifices as a Slayer than condemnation for her final sin. She'd already paid for that one in blood.

The priest grew silent, and Buffy watched as the four people with her placed a rose atop Nancy's casket, then approached it herself, her hand lingering for a moment on the flower she left behind. Her eyes closed as she thought of the words she'd say to Nancy now, if she could.

You were a Slayer, a warrior of the light, and I forgive you. May you find the peace now this world never would have given you.

A cool, spring breeze washed over her, and Buffy opened her eyes and breathed it in.

Buffy turned and walked off with Giles, Willow, and Oz, while Xander went the other way. They stopped at Oz's van, and Buffy hugged Willow good-bye.

"I'll call you tonight, okay, Will?" Buffy said, both girls wiping their eyes as they pulled away.

"Okay," Willow replied. "I'm sure I'm going to need someone to talk to." She looked at Oz. "Not that talking to you doesn't help…"

Oz nodded simply. "But of course. I'm hardly a replacement for girl talk."

Willow smiled, though the sadness didn't leave her eyes. "He's so understanding." She then turned to Giles, hugging him as well. "Let me know if you need anything. I can bake a casserole."

Giles chuckled softly. "I'll remember that, my dear. And do know, even without Nancy here, my door is always open to you."

"I know, Giles," Willow replied. "Thank you." She pulled away from him and returned to Oz's side.

A few silent moments passed, none of the four people gathered in the small parking lot knowing what to say, but finally settling on a simple good-bye. Oz and Willow got into the van while Buffy and Giles went to his car.

Buffy sat in the passenger's seat for several moments before she said, "Giles, are you okay enough to drive? You've been just staring at the steering wheel."

Giles jumped a little at the sound of Buffy's voice, then turned towards her. "Yes, I'm fine enough for that. I was, well, I was thinking about you, actually." He paused and reached for his glasses.

"Giles, you're cleaning your glasses. You shouldn't tell people you're thinking something about them and then start cleaning your glasses. It's scary."

With a light chuckle and some stammering, Giles put his glasses back on. "I am sorry, Buffy, I just…" He let out a deep breath. "I'm about to ask you something that I'm not sure I have any right to ask of you."

"Well, ask anyway, because now you've got my interest all up," Buffy said. "What is it?"

Giles cleared his throat. "It has come to my attention that your…relationship with Spike has afforded you certain strengths and abilities a normal girl would not posses."

"Yup. I'm all Super Buffy. Your point?"

He reached for his glasses, then remembered her earlier admonishment and dropped his hand. "With Nancy dead, the Sunnydale Hellmouth is essentially unguarded at the time in its history when it has been the most rife with demonic energy. I had hoped that perhaps Angel would be of some use now, but when I broke the news to him of Nancy's death, he seemed as if he would now be leaving town, perhaps for good. The Council has split into factions and is in the middle of a power struggle, with several people vying for Quentin's position. They all claim, of course, they were ignorant of his more nefarious schemes, but if I believe that, then my mother raised a fool. They do, however, seem to believe that the Slayer who was Called after Nancy would be of best use in Cleveland."

Buffy's eyebrow arched. "Cleveland? Ohio? Why?"

"There's an active Hellmouth there as well, it seems."

"Oh. So, Giles, are you going to find the chase and cut to it anytime soon with all of this?"

"Yes, well, I suppose I should come right out and say it then." He cleared his throat again. "Buffy, like I said this is probably asking too much of you, but would you be willing—at least for the time being—to take over Nancy's duties insomuch as guarding the Hellmouth?"

Buffy couldn't help but be floored by his request. Yet, at the same time, there was something oddly right in the thought of it.

"My home would, of course, remain open to you," Giles continued. "If you would like, I could remodel the basement to serve as a sort of flat for you and Spike so he could continue to have a place where he wouldn't have to worry about an abundance of sunlight."

"I'll have to talk to him about it, Giles," Buffy said. "I can't make big decisions like that without his input."

"Yes, of course, I figured as much," Giles replied. "Take as much time as you need to decide on an answer."

"I'll talk to him about it and let you know soon," Buffy told him.

"Thank you."

Giles started the car, and the two of them headed back towards Revello Drive.

*** *** ***

Epilogue to be posted on Monday.

Please review!

Watching them always made Willow wonder why demons still came to this town. She supposed to was like mice and a mouse trap, the metaphoric cheese that was the Hellmouth's demonic energy beacon proving too much to resist, even with the two blonds she observed now waiting to spring like a steel trap.

With a frown, she realized she really needed to work on coming up with better metaphors.

Instead, however, Willow settled against the outside wall of a nearby crypt and just watched. It was nice to get a moment to catch her breath after leading the three soon-to-be-dusty vampires in a chase across the cemetery towards their waiting doom, but she was also enjoying the show. When Buffy and Spike fought, it was so much like a dance, all power and grace, with timing so right it made the whole thing appear as if it had been choreographed.

Even in the violence, they were beautiful, the vampire and his mate, and it was a truly awe-inspiring thing to get the privilege of watching them from the outside. In the moonlight, they seemed to glow, a shimmer of pale light surrounding them both as they moved. Vampire dust began to swirl around them as they staked one, then two, and Willow had to giggle as she noticed the third vampire begin to realize his mistake in coming there tonight.

"Too little, too late, and now you're toast, fang face," Willow thought.

Buffy and Spike wore nearly identical grins as they circled their prey, adrenaline soaring through them from the fight. The vampire panicked, tried in the last second to run, but Buffy was there, stopping him with a sharp kick that sent him flying backwards and onto Spike's waiting stake. The eyes of the mated pair met through the dust, the tension still coursing in their bodies also heavy in the air, and a silent promise passed between them as their smiles grew.

Later, when we're alone…

Buffy remembered once, several months ago, trying to sell Spike on the idea of fighting demons with her by pointing out that with them, the mayhem and destruction could be fun. She knew now just how right she'd been. There was nothing quite as exhilarating as a good fight followed by a good rough and tumble with her mate. Often times, it was all they could do to actually make it down the stairs to the apartment Giles had set up for them in his basement. More often than not, the first round of the evening took place somewhere other than their bed, which always seemed too far away.

If Willow hadn't been with them then, Buffy knew they wouldn't have been making it out of the cemetery.

Remembering the redhead's presence, Buffy turned, even as Spike moved closer to her and rested his cool, strong hand against the small of her back, making her tremble. "Ready to call it a night, Willow?" she asked.

Willow nodded. "Yeah. I think I've had my fill of being bait for the night. Kinda wears you out pretty quickly, the whole running through a cemetery with vampires nipping at your heels thing."

"You did an especially good job of that tonight," Spike told her. "That piercing scream of terror was quite believable."

Willow beamed. "Was it? I've been working on it."

"Oh yeah. I'm still trying to stop the ringing," Spike replied.

"I wanted to be more convincingly scared," Willow said. "It's a little hard to be these days, knowing I'm just leading them to get their asses totally kicked by you guys."

"Well, it's very convincing," Buffy confirmed. "You could totally have a career as a horror movie victim."

"Thanks," Willow said, her smile growing. She liked feeling useful, even if it was just by screaming and flailing her arms while she ran in mock-terror.

Willow stepped away from the crypt, and the three of them walked out of the cemetery together. Spike always insisted on walking Willow home first, no matter how badly he really wanted to get Buffy alone at the moment. She may be no real prey with the two of them nearby, but Spike knew how easily someone like Willow could become a tasty treat if she was left on her own, and he'd be damned all over again before he let that happen.

They dropped Willow off at her house and said their goodnights, then stepped back out into the night. Buffy walked with Spike for a few feet down the sidewalk before she stopped, grabbed him, and kissed him hard. Spike groaned into her mouth, everything seeming to blur around him except for the taste of her lips and the desire he felt for her body.

Suddenly, Buffy pulled away, a mischievous smile on her lips. "Race you home," she said before she took off at a run, her laughter trailing behind her.

Grinning, Spike gave chase.

*** *** ***

Yes, that is the end. Before anyone asks, I don't currently have any plans for a sequel. If something came to my mind that I really wanted to write, maybe, but as it is, I don't see that happening. I have so many other fic ideas and a pretty full schedule, so there's not really a lot of time for sequels. But do know that they live a long, long time together, and even with the trials they find themselves facing, they find a way to overcome it all together.

Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with this story, supporting and enjoying it through to the end, even when things got dark. I promised you a happily ever after, and here it is, after months of angst and times when it didn't look like our couple was going to make it through. I really do appreciate everyone's kind words and support throughout the fic, and I hope that I was able to entertain each and every one of you.

Thanks for reading!