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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.





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