“What happened?”
Joyce suddenly appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, an anxious frown on her face as she took in the troublesome scene before her. Her oldest daughter was on her knees on the floor, the youngest Summers standing beside her and watching her warily, while the blonde vampire stood against the wall, still catching the breath he did not need, anyway, carefully keeping a fair distance between himself and the Slayer.
At complete odds with what she surmised had obviously just taken place in this room, however – Buffy and Spike were both smiling.
“My demon went all psycho again,” Buffy explained easily, glancing casually at her mother before returning her gaze to Spike to share another meaningful smile.
“Oh,” Joyce remarked flatly, not quite sure how to react based on her daughter’s alarming words that, for some reason, she and Spike seemed to find amusing. “And – that’s funny?”
“Let me be a little more clear,” Buffy said, rising to her feet with the help of her little sister’s hand and turning to face her mother. “My demon went all psycho again – because she can’t stand the fact that Spike just figured out how to take her down.”
She turned toward Spike, cautiously pulling away from her sister’s steadying arm, while motioning for her to stay close – just in case. Buffy’s smile faded as she glanced down at the trembling hand that was still clutching his battered stomach.
“It’s nothing,” he assured her, seeking her eyes with a reassuring smile. “Promise, love. Worth it – if it means we know my idea’s gonna work.”
“Well – considering Slayer-Girl’s little freak out – I’d say she’s definitely scared of *something you said,” Buffy pointed out, slowly closing the distance between them, her troubled, frowning eyes still focused on his stomach, as she slid her arm around behind him, steadying him as she led him away from the wall, her other hand coming to rest gently over his that was still pressed to the sore spot.
She raised her eyes to his, opening her mouth to speak.
“Don’t say it, pet,” he cut her off gently, meeting her eyes with a reassuring look, before she could have time to misinterpret his words. “Not your fault.”
“So – you’re all right?” Joyce asked hesitantly, trying to draw the increasingly inward-focused attention of the couple back to the current situation.
Spike looked up at her as if just remembering that she was there, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Then – the car’s all loaded. Why don’t you two tell us all about it on the way?”
“So – let me get this straight,” Joyce said, frowning into the rearview mirror at her daughter in the backseat. “I’m not sure I’m getting this.”
Even though she could only see Buffy, and not the blonde vampire beside her, she was fairly certain that they were sitting quite a bit closer than she was comfortable with – mated or not.
It was a testament to Spike’s high regard for Joyce that he was allowing her to drive his treasured Desoto – although really, they didn’t have much choice at the moment. I had seemed like the best option under the circumstances. Images of a disastrous car wreck in which they might *all* be killed, should Buffy lose control and attack Spike while he was driving, made the idea of Spike’s driving his own car seem a bit on the undesirable side.
Dawn was too young, and Buffy was – bloody well out of the question, that was for soddin’ sure!
So Joyce was driving, her youngest daughter trying not to drift off to sleep in the passenger seat beside her, after the long, traumatic evening she had had; and Buffy and Spike sat *very* close together in the back seat, doing their best to appear to be actually trying to help Joyce understand the recent developments in their situation, while trying very hard to *not* let the powerful attraction between them from the claim -- and the fact that it had been over twenty-four hours since they had last seen each other naked – cause them to humiliate themselves in front of Buffy’s mother.
Fortunately, Joyce was too busy trying to wrap her mind around the complex mystical situation they were dealing with, and the mysterious solution they had apparently found, to notice too closely anything that was going on in the backseat.
“So – let me see if I’ve got this,” she said, looking straight ahead at the road as she spoke. “The demon keeps trying to finish the original dominance ritual. That’s why she keeps hurting Spike – she’s trying to force him into submission. But it doesn’t work, because he’s already bound to *Buffy* through the mating claim – but not the demon – but he still can’t fight the demon because it’s in *Buffy’s* body. Right?”
“That’s about the size of it,” Buffy replied innocently, giving her mate a wicked smirk as her hand slid between his legs to sneak a naughty feel.
Spike’s responsive groan was conveniently timed to coincide with a rather large pothole that Joyce hit, and the older woman glanced in the rearview mirror with concern, frustrated to remember that she could not see the obviously-in-severe-pain vampire’s reflection in it.
“Oh, Spike, I’m sorry!” she gasped, assuming that her careless driving had jarred his injuries. “Are you all right?”
“Perfect, pet,” Spike assured her with remarkable composure, almost fiercely grabbing Buffy’s hand and placing it back safely in her own lap. “You were saying?”
*What the bleedin’ hell are you trying to do, pet, make your mum toss me out of my own bloody car on my soddin’ arse?* he demanded in her head.
It was odd, hearing Buffy’s musical little giggle in his mind, rather than in his ear.
*Might be funny,* she mused teasingly, but there was affection in her tone.
*We’ll see how funny it is when you’re the one moanin’ your x-rated pleasure for your mum and baby sis to hear!* Spike shot back with a smirk of his own, as his hand, still clutching hers, pressed it down between her legs, pushing her own fist just slightly sideways so that her thumb rubbed just slightly across her sensitive, denim-covered center.
Buffy kept her eye politely focused on the rearview mirror, pretending to listen to her mother, astonishingly managing to keep her rising desire from showing in her face. She was just glad that her mother could not see any lower than her shoulders in the mirror.
The soft moan of pleasure at the sensation of his – or rather, her own – touch, was only in her mind, and thankfully Joyce could not hear it.
But Spike could.
His smug smile widened as he pushed their joined hands back slightly harder against her body, relishing the way her eyes widened in a shock of pleasure at the sensation.
Buffy was determined to wipe that smug smirk off his face.
*Shhh,* she whispered the cryptic warning in his mind…
*Huh?*
…the moment before she slid her free arm casually around him, her fingertips just barely brushing around the edges of her mark – and causing the unsuspecting vampire to nearly come off the seat, biting his lip to keep from crying out at the intensity of the sensation she had provoked.
She appeared oblivious to his predicament, smiling encouraging and nodding as her mother went on talking – though she hadn’t the first clue what Joyce was actually saying – as Spike realized with irritation through his arousal that she had the upper hand in this situation in more ways than one.
She had used the power behind her claim in her order to be quiet, and Joyce could not see Spike in the mirror – so there was no way for the Slayer’s mum to know what she was doing to him. The look of smug satisfaction on her face was incredibly frustrating – as if she just took it for granted that with the slightest touch, she could have him at her mercy and begging for more.
*Not tonight, love,* he thought to himself, his jaw set with determination as his hand clenched tighter around hers. The hint of a smile formed on the lips he was biting to keep closed, as he pressed their joined hands – and in so doing the knuckle of her thumb – into her highly sensitized, terribly aroused crotch.
Buffy could tell by the feelings she was reading from him, and the expression on his face, that he definitely did *not* want to lose this little battle of wills.
*Oh, well,* she thought to herself. *We can’t always get what we want, can we?*
She stifled the moan of pleasure that Spike’s increased pressure on her hand drew from her lips, fighting for control and focus. The pressure he was exerting lessened immediately when she made another slow, torturously light circle around the mark on his throat.
Spike’s already throbbing erection became painful, restricted by his already-tight dark jeans, and he drew in a sharp, yet nearly silent, breath.
Her mental voice was calm and teasing as she asked him softly, *Now are you gonna give me my hand back -- *now* -- or are you gonna scream my name in front of my mother and sister and make a huge mess all over the only pair of pants you brought with you on this trip?*
He realized with alarm that she could make him do it.
He immediately released her hand as if it were on fire, and she quickly – if a bit reluctantly – moved it away from her lap. She lowered her hand from his throat to rest casually on his shoulder, and continued pretending to listen to her mother, actually trying to catch up with Joyce’s musings – until Spike drew her attention back to him again.
*You know it won’t always be so easy, pet.*
She frowned slightly, but did not look at him as she asked uncertainly, *What are you talking about?*
In spite of herself, a bit of insecurity started to show itself, as she wondered about his meaning. They were going to be mated -- *forever* -- surely he wasn’t already talking about the time when he would grow bored with her?
*When I claim you back. It’ll be even footing then, pet. And I’ve got a lot of experience on you. If you can use that mark to do the things you do to me – to set me on fire like you do – I should be able to make you scream – make you beg – with a single…*breath*…*
Buffy’s eyes widened at the low, seductive tone of his thoughts – and the answering sensations stirring back to life in her at the images his words brought to mind.
“Buffy? *Buffy*!”
She shook her head slightly to clear it and tried to focus on what her mother was saying.
“Sorry, Mom – I was zoning,” she confessed sheepishly – conveniently leaving out the detail of just what zone she had slipped into. “What were you saying?”
“I was just saying that the whole thing has me a little bit confused,” Joyce repeated in a voice of mild impatience and exasperation, both with her own confusion, and with her daughter’s state of distraction. “What exactly is the benefit of having Spike claim you again? Not that I mind…it’s just...”
Her voice trailed off, and she looked expectantly at Buffy.
So did Spike, giving her a lascivious grin, making a lewd little gesture with his tongue between his teeth that in no way helped Buffy’s situation – all safely out of Joyce’s sight, as she looked at her daughter in the rearview mirror.
*Tell her, pet,* he teased her. *Tell her why it’s such a good…*
*Spike!* Buffy cut him off, a bit sharply. *Time to focus…okay, I give…shouldn’t have started this game…we’ve got a lot to work out, so for now, playtime is over…*
*Oh, it’s far from over, pet,* he assured her with a soft chuckle – but he did let it go, as Buffy went over the situation again with her mother.
“Okay, so – once he claims you he’ll be free to fight the demon and complete the dominance ritual, and bring her under his control,” Joyce recapped slowly, frowning her confusion.
“Right.”
“But – that means he has to fight *you* -- right?”
“Sort of,” Buffy conceded with a cautious nod. “Except – we’re pretty sure the demon will be at the forefront. She is *not* gonna be pleased with his claiming me.”
“So – assuming Spike wins this fight for dominance – won’t that mean that *you* are under his control, too?”
“See, that’s the cool part, Mom,” Buffy grinned, excitement coming over her at the cleverness of their plan, the game she had been playing with her mate almost forgotten.
*Almost*.
“Like Anya told me, a mating claim takes preeminence over all other claims. So – someone who’s been claimed in a mating claim can’t be put under any other claim – as long as their mate is alive. So – even if the dominance claim would ordinarily put me under Spike’s control – it won’t have any effect on me, because I’ll already be claimed by him as his mate.”
“But – it *will* affect the demon?” Joyce sounded very unsure about that idea.
“Yeah – in theory,” Spike remarked. “Because the mating claim had nothing to do with the demon. Buffy did it because she wanted to, and before the demon was strong enough to act on her own through Buffy. So Buffy will be protected by our mating claim, but the demon won’t.”
“And the way the spell was worded – the demon would be loosed by the spell ‘until she was bound by another’. So, we’re thinking – hopefully…” Buffy trailed off, searching for the right words.
Spike picked up for her, “…the dominance claim should fulfill the requirement of the spell, and send this nasty back to whatever box she was locked in before.”
Joyce was quiet for a moment, taking it in and trying to process it. “Sounds good,” she commented finally, her voice calm but neutral. “but what I’m wondering is this…this thing’s nice and quiet right now, because Dawnie just – fought her back, or whatever – but she’s gonna get strong again, like last time, and it probably won’t take very long.”
Joyce paused, before asking in a quiet voice of concern, “How are you two going to keep her from taking over again long enough for Spike to complete the claim? Because you are *so* not having your sister in the room for that!”
“Mom!” Buffy protested, horrified. “Eww! Of course not!”
But then, the car fell silent, as they considered that problem.
The silence was broken after a few moments, by the high, tinny sound of Buffy’s cell phone ringing. Momentarily glad for the distraction, she took it out of her pocket and looked at the lighted screen on the front – and heaved a weary sigh, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, great,” she muttered. “This should be fun.”
“Who is it, pet?” Spike asked, frowning anxiously.
Buffy shot him a dark look as she opened the phone and replied dubiously, “It’s Giles.”
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