It took a full two days following the Cruciamentum for Buffy’s strength to return. And though her mother wanted her to stay home until the bruises faded, she was oddly eager to get back to school. She wanted to see Willow and—moreover—wanted to get the big confrontation-explanation shindig with Giles and Angel very much in the past. Better now than later; then she could focus on how to tell Spike about the bite mark.
Furthermore, she was fairly certain she owed Angel an ass kicking.
“Okay,” Buffy said, pushing the library doors open. She didn’t even bother to feign surprise at seeing Angel hovering around the stacks. “First things first…”
“Buffy—” Giles said, his hands going up. “I don’t think you should do anything rash.”
Her fist connected with her ex’s chin, her eyes shining as he flew into a rack of books that were waiting to be re-shelved. “I can’t tell you how good that felt,” she spat, kicking him sharply in the side as a book plunked his head. “Almost as good as that.” She kicked him again. “You know, I think I’ll just keep this up until it gets boring. What do you say?”
“Buffy—”
She held up a hand, hooking her foot under Angel’s beefy chin. “Giles, the sooner I’m through with Angel, the sooner I start beating your overly-British ass for your role in the make-Buffy-dead plan. Do you really want me to rush this?”
There was a long pause. “Oh, no. Do go on.”
“Buffy,” Angel choked. “It’s…it was the Cruciamentum. It…we had no choice.”
“You had a choice. You had a choice to not use my boyfriend as a way to get me into the house with a madman. You had a choice to not drag me away from him when I needed him the most.” She cocked her head. “And then with the forced undressing and the hands where your hands should never, ever be again.”
Angel didn’t even bother to look apologetic. “I had to know.”
“Had to know what?” She shrugged demonstratively. “What? Yeah, okay. Big secret. Spike bit me. He bit me, and it was amazing. So, is that it? The big ‘it’ you needed to know? He bit me. You wanna blame what I’m feeling for him based on the bite? Go ahead. It doesn’t change that—”
Giles cleared his throat and hazarded a step forward. “Buffy, there’s something you should know.”
She twisted and glared at him. “Was I not clear about the beating of your ass?”
“It’s about the bite.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
Angel coughed. There was something in his eyes that she did not like at all. “Spike claimed you, Buffy. He claimed you when he bit you.”
She blinked. Okay. Weird way of putting it, but it sounded right. He’d bitten her, and he’d become a part of her. That much was a given. So Spike claimed her. The big? Still not seeing it. “Spike whated me?”
“Claimed,” Giles said softly. “It’s an ancient ritual practiced among vampires.”
Buffy frowned. “Ritual? No. No. There was no ritual. It—”
“It’s more a ritual in what it does rather than how it’s performed,” he clarified, holding up a hand. “And…I don’t believe that Spike…that is, Angel has provided reasonable evidence that Spike wasn’t aware of what he was doing when he claimed you. We believe he was rather…”
“Oblivious?” Angel ventured, earning a sharp kick to the sore spot on his throat. The place that Spike told her had met the pointy end of a stake the night he’d rescued her. “Buffy—”
Buffy glared at him. “Did I give you permission to talk? Or…exist, for that matter?”
“Last I checked—”
Giles exhaled slowly. “Buffy…I think it’s best if you s-sit down. There is much to tell you…about claims. A-and how it relates to your…situation with Spike.”
“My situation? The situation wherein he’s my boyfriend?” She threw her arms up in disgust. “Look, I knew both of you would massively wig over the Spike thing. And Giles, I can see where you come from a whole lot easier than I can Angel. Angel, who actively tried to make me very dead last year.”
The vampire under her foot wiggled angrily at that. “That wasn’t—”
“If you say that wasn’t you, I’m going to—”
“Oh, let me guess. Make another empty threat?”
Buffy dug her heel deeper into Angel’s throat, her eyes flashing dangerously. “You wanna test how empty my threats are? You nearly got me killed. You used my boyfriend to nearly get me killed. Oh, and then you tore me away from my boyfriend, undressed me, felt me up, and have the nerve to act like I’m overreacting?”
“Stop calling him your boyfriend!”
“That’s enough!” Giles practically shouted, holding up a hand. “Angel, need I remind you that you have already overstayed your invitation by, well, truthfully I stopped counting. Suffice to say, you are only here because I continue to allow it.”
“You need me to—”
“Guys!” Buffy rolled her eyes and released her hold on Angel. “Okay, so this claim thing. I suppose it affects how I’ve been feeling about Spike. All my emotions are fabricated through some mystical energy force that would otherwise not exist if he hadn’t bit me. Is that the song and dance you two have cooked up? And please, spare me no details.”
Giles and Angel—the latter of whom was rubbing his neck—exchanged an uneasy glance.
Buffy perked her brows. “Hit the nail right on the head, or is my aim a little off?”
“I—umm.” Giles cleared his throat again and slid his glasses into the waiting hem of his shirt. “No, not exactly. Among other things…a claim cannot fabricate feelings. Rather…why don’t I start at the beginning?” He released a deep breath. “I do think it best if…if you sit down, Buffy.”
From the look on his face, he was serious. Very serious. Buffy felt herself nod absently, only partially registering how hard her heart was pounding. The fog around her head was beginning to part, and all at once, it felt that the world around her was collapsing. They were going to tell her. They were going to explain everything. The mysterious draw, the stomach aches, the aversion to all things man-shaped. A nervous rush raced down her spine.
They were going to tell her. They were going to tell her everything.
“Okay,” she said slowly, hoisting herself onto the checkout counter. “So, with the talkage. What’s this claimy thing?”
Giles offered a weak smile. “As I said…an ancient ritual performed among vampires. When a vampire selects a suitable…mate. One they feel they want to be with for…well, eternity. It’s not done often anymore…and Angel seems to believe that Spike would not know h-how to claim.”
Buffy frowned. “And yet he did?”
“Claiming is an instinct, along with being a ritual,” Angel said, his voice a little raspy, his hand rubbing his throat. “If Spike was close to being a complete demon…like if, oh say, alcohol had worn down his lack of sensibility—what little he has—then the demon might have recognized you as someone…anyway, when he bit you, he said something, right?” He took an amazingly condescending step forward, narrowing his eyes. “Something along the lines of, ‘mine,’ perhaps?”
She froze. It wasn’t as though she’d given that moment a lot of thought, but on occasion, her mind was known for wandering. That morning had been the catalyst for many wayward thoughts. And since the birth of the plan, she’d been thinking about the long-term thing with Spike more and more…which, naturally, made her think of the past they’d shared. “Uhhh…”
“That’s the ritual.” Angel nodded. “It’s a simple word.”
“Not very…ritual-y.”
“No. And Buffy, it’s only valid if you acknowledge the demon’s claim.” The vampire took a step forward, his eyes boring into hers. “If you say, ‘yours,’ or ‘yes,’ or anything else that would affirm that you belong to the demon.”
“Oh.”
“If you didn’t, the claim’s not complete. It’ll wear off.” Angel glanced to Giles, then back again. “You just need to not see Spike anymore.”
Buffy blinked. Hard. “Excuse me?”
“I mean—”
“No, I know what you mean. And what? Why would I stop seeing Spike? I—he’s my…he’s my something. My boyfriend, my…claim-person. Or whatever.” She pointed at Giles, who stiffened. “And he said—”
“Buffy, if you go back to being around him, the temptation to acknowledge the claim will only get—”
She rolled her eyes, irritation surging. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Well—”
“I said yes, okay? I accepted his…his claim, or whatever.” When she found herself on the receiving end of two blank stares, she rolled her eyes again and held up a hand to count off her points. “Okay, firstly. One: I didn’t know what I was doing. I was scared and confused and…well, scared and confused pretty much summarizes what I was feeling nicely. Two: It’s none of your business. Three…” She frowned and drifted off in thought, then lowered her hand sheepishly. “Okay, so it’s only the two things. But Spike got a little demandy as far as my accepting went, and how the hell was I supposed to know what it means?” She paused and worried a lip between her teeth. “What does it mean, exactly?”
There was a long, burdensome silence.
“What?” Buffy fidgeted uncomfortably. “Look, I know…well…there will be no judging from the two of you. Angel, with the attempted murder and Giles! You drugged me and tried to feed me to an insane vampire! I’m not seeing much room to judge, here.”
“Buffy…” Giles sighed, his eyes fluttering shut. “I know I have been dishonest. And I’m sorry. You have no idea what putting…how much I hated the idea of putting you in danger. It ate at me. And if Spike hadn’t been there to stop it…I don’t think…I don’t know what I would have done. Suffice to say, the words, ‘Never forgive myself,’ don’t even begin to cover it.” He sighed again and glanced up, and the wealth of emotion that swam in his eyes made her anger slip a notch. Just one. He wasn’t getting off her crap list that easily. “However, I must say, that you haven’t exactly been forthcoming, either. The test was unavoidable, and if you think I enjoyed putting you through that…well, then perhaps you should consult Mr. Travers.”
“Travers?”
“Head of the Watcher’s Council. I did everything I could to cancel it. I-it’s an archaic, senseless exercise that does little more than…” Giles trailed off and inhaled sharply. “But then Angel suggested we use it…to test your…connection with Spike. To determine whether or not a claim was involved. And since you refused to come forward with anything about the bite that Spike gave you…or anything else, for that matter…you cornered me. I needed to know.”
“You didn’t tell me why!”
“If you had told me to begin…” Giles stopped again and shook his head. “I refuse to argue with you over this. What’s done is done. I made mistakes, but…somehow, I knew that you would be all right. That doesn’t excuse what I did. I know that. God, how I know that. I—”
“You accepted Spike’s claim?” Angel’s outburst was so sudden that even the dust froze in confusion. “How could you do that?”
“Wow,” Buffy appraised dryly, shifting. “Welcome back to the conversation.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Ummm, no. Hence the spirit of the meeting, I thought.”
He stormed forward impatiently. “You’re linked, Buffy. You tied yourself to him. Forever. There is no going back. There is no…there is no divorce in claims. There is no way to reverse this.”
“Furthermore,” Giles added, sighing. “I believe that many of your…symptoms might be linked to a failure to…complete the claim.”
“My symptoms…” Oh God. Perhaps this was the mystical reason for everything. The spell that she and Spike had tried to blame their actions on. The huge, searing pain every time she was away from him? Every time they were separated for any amount of time? Not to mention, she was allergic to men who weren’t Spike. Simply sitting in the library with Giles and Angel was making her stomach curl, and only a small part of that could be attributed to her disgust at what they’d done to her. “Okay, yes, my symptoms. Is there a way to…get rid of those?”
“You have to—”
“Rupert!” Angel barked.
Giles rolled his eyes. “Oh, what? You know damn well that there’s nothing that can be done, and she doesn’t look to be in a position to want to undo anything in the first place! I’m bloody sick of you, and I think it’s well beyond time that we listen to Buffy.”
“It’s Spike—”
“Yes. You can repeat that as much as you want; it’s not going to change anything.” He smiled thinly. “And even so, with as much as I abhor Spike, I suddenly prefer his company to yours.”
Angel’s eyes widened. So did Buffy’s.
“What?” the vampire demanded.
“Buffy is right. He saved her life. He took care of her. Furthermore, we both saw how protective of her he was. Had Spike known about the Cruciamentum, he would have done everything in his power, short of and perhaps including taking my life, to prevent Buffy from getting hurt.” Giles tossed her a glance, and his smile turned warm at the look on her face. “And even then, I’m not sure. I believe that Spike, from what I saw, knows that hurting Buffy’s friends or Watcher would upset her. Would hurt her. He didn’t kill me and he very much wanted to. He didn’t kill me or you, for that matter, to get to Buffy. I’m not sure that he would have done anything to—”
“Rupert—”
“I’m not sure of anything. Were you actually watching him, Angel? Or did you only see what you wanted to see?” When he was met with nothing but silence, he smiled again and turned back to Buffy. “I’m not going to stop you from doing what you feel is right,” he said. “I can’t say I’m…thrilled. I’m not. I don’t know where I stand, exactly. But I do know that Spike cares for you. In some…way, he does. Furthermore, it’s a bit beyond our control, now. You accepted the claim.” A shadow fell across his face, as though he had the most difficulty wrestling with that concept. “You…accepted. You accepted the claim. There is nothing that can be done.”
Buffy swallowed hard, her eyes misting with tears. God, she’d missed this Giles so much. The Giles that was all with the support and the giving-of-fatherly-advice and not so much with the judgment. “I claim him back,” she whispered, “and the pain stops? We can…be with the normal?”
“As normal as…Buffy, I can’t say that I approve, but there’s really nothing—”
Something occurred to her from nowhere—something that he’d said before that she hadn’t thought to leap at in the middle of the confusion. Buffy released a short gasp and hopped off the counter, her eyes going wide. “Wait, wait,” she said, holding up a hand. “You…you said that claims can’t…they can’t make me feel things for him. Or…they can’t make Spike feel things for me?”
Giles glanced to Angel, then back to her. “No,” he said. “There have been a few examples in history…where vampires claimed other vampires, determined to force them into love. It always ends…badly. A claim does nothing but play on emotions and feelings that already exist.”
Buffy’s heart skipped a beat. She was too nervous to hope. “S-so…the things I feel for Spike…that’s real?”
Another long pause. “Yes.”
“A-and what Spike feels for me? That’s real, too?”
The look on Giles’s face told her everything she needed to know; by the time he nodded and whispered his affirmation, she was on the verge of collapse. All of the worries that she had focused on—all the thoughts of spells and vengeful exes and a broken heart—fell before Truth, and she found herself possessed by the fiercest wave of happiness that she’d ever known. It was real. It was all real. The way Spike looked at her. The way he held her hand. The way he kissed her. The way he loved her body with his own. The way he bantered with her and held her. The way he cared for her. All of it was real. He wouldn’t leave her. There was no spell. There had never been a spell. Spike had linked them together with his bite, and he would never leave her.
Buffy couldn’t help it; she burst into tears. Happy tears. Tears that liberated, rather than burdened. She felt the weight of the world roll off her shoulders, and there was nothing to do but cry. She loved him, and she could have him, now. There was no need for a plan or distancing or anything anymore. She could just have Spike. She wasn’t that girl.
Only she had to tie them together. She had to complete it. She had to claim him back.
“Buffy?” Giles whispered, taking a cautious step toward her. “Are you all right?”
She fought the urge to laugh. To cackle with happiness. The sensation was so foreign, so welcome, that she didn’t know how to express it. She was caught between laughter and tears, and it was wonderful.
“Tell me,” she said, wiping her shining eyes. “Tell me how to do it. Tell me how to claim him. Tell me how to make it final.”
There would be no more hiding. She loved him. There was no reason to hide.
Not anymore.
To be continued…