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Author's Chapter Notes:
Wow! Thanks for all the amazing reviews you guys gave me for the last chapter! Please keep reviewing! :D

Thanks as always to my beta Andrea and the amazing job she does! Read and enjoy!

Fic can also be found at: http://www.angelfire.com/mi4/spikeschilde/
Chapter Eleven



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


***


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


***


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

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

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

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

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

‘Don’t stop moving.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Don’t move off the path.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Slayer—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The council.” William nodded eagerly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it very complex?” Spike chuckled deeply.

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

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

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

“Why can’t we just tell him?”

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


***


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

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

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

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

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

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





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