“So he’s meeting you this afternoon?”
Buffy nodded happily, crossing her arms over her chest. Again, she was adorned with one of Spike’s tees. Again, his jeans were hanging off her hips. She knew she looked like a complete wreck—mostly thanks to Cordelia’s numerous observations—but she couldn’t care less. She was only here to collect assignments and attend the Scooby meeting, anyway. It wasn’t like there was anyone to impress.
Especially considering the way Spike had drooled and panted over her as he attempted to keep her from dressing that morning.
Willow arched a brow and crossed her arms, leaning against the row of lockers as Buffy worked her combination. “Your mother didn’t call me in a panic last night,” she said. “Why didn’t your mother call me in a panic last night?”
A blush warmed the Slayer’s skin. “Spike and I dropped by the house last night,” she said, trying to fit her math book into her locker. “It was very…odd and formal and weird. Maybe I let Spike do the talking because he’s ancient and much more able to be grown-up about the ‘being my eternal boyfriend’-type thing. He became all…old English. Like ‘do I have permission to court your daughter’ type old English.”
Willow wrinkled her nose in surprise. “That doesn’t sound like Spike.”
“I was very much on the far side of wigged,” Buffy agreed with a nod. “But it worked. And he did this cute little avoidy-of-the-eye-contact thing when we started on our way back to his crypt. Like he was all embarrassed.”
“That really doesn’t sound like Spike.”
Buffy just shrugged. “Other than the trying-to-kill-us, Will, you don’t know him very well. There’s a whole different Spike that you don’t know.”
“There’d almost have to be.” Willow beamed at the embarrassed look on her friend’s face. “So everything’s okay? With the…I mean you were all Ms. Excited when you got here and there were some blabbery could-be words, so I’m guessing—”
“He loves me.”
“That was one of the things I deciphered.” The redhead nodded proudly. “I’m good like that.”
“We’re mated.”
“See, that much I don’t really get.”
“There was no spell. There was…there was never a spell.” Buffy swallowed hard, and they turned together toward the direction of the library. People would be gathering there by now, and she was more than eager to see Spike. God, this feeling was so familiar, though larger than anything she’d ever experienced. The agony of the empty minutes between the time when she was with him again. “Spike was…it was all real. All of it.”
“Even the random bouts of lusty…confusion?”
Buffy shrugged. “Well…normal…as in, Spike claimed me the night he was all with the kidnappy. A-and the random bouts of lusty confusion are normal for people who…get claimed and don’t know it.”
“Not know it? How do you not know when you’re getting claimed?” Willow blinked and frowned. “Ummm…what’s getting claimed?”
She grinned coyly. “It’s a vampire thing.”
“That much I figured.”
“He bit me…the night that…with the slayer-grabbing…he bit me. A-and I don’t…I kept it from everyone.” She stopped and met Willow’s inquisitive eyes. “I mean it. Everyone. Not even Spike knew. A-and I would’ve told you, but after that whole bogus pregnancy-thing, it just…and it was mine.” She stopped again; her friend’s uninterrupty-silence was beginning to make her flustered. “I didn’t know that the bite was special. It was mine and I liked it and I wanted it to be only mine. And then Angel and Giles started with the questions…about bites…and the more they asked, the more I wanted to keep it to myself. And—”
Willow held up a hand. “Buffy. Do you think I’m…mad at you? For not telling me?”
“I…well…”
“Not. Not even. Hey, as I see it, I’m lucky to have been in the know at all. E-especially with that whole…pregnancy-blunder-telling-of-Cordelia.” She shrugged. “I’m happy that you kept me in the loop after the…stuff I did that deserved to be left out of the loop.”
“Well, to be honest, I thought so for a while.” Buffy smiled awkwardly and shrugged. “But then I had all this stuff I needed to tell someone, and you were the only one that I would ever tell. Plus, with the already knowing about me and Spike. That helped bunches.”
Willow nodded. “I try to be helpful...” She paused. “And so…you’re claimed.”
“Uh huh.”
“And that’s…a very good thing, right?”
A warm light filled Buffy’s eyes. “Oh, Will. It’s fantastic. It’s…” She sighed happily. “It’s wonderful.”
“No more mopey I’m-not-dating-Spike-but-what-should-I-wear-on-my-date-with-Spike?”
“No more. Just full-on giddy-as-a-schoolgirl Buffy who will be telling you massively dirty stories…except the ones that are too private or…dirty.” She winced. “I’m gonna try to get Spike to come with me to the Bronze tonight. I want him…with my friends. And I know Xander will pull a massive wig and he won’t be able to look at or talk to me for a while.”
“Which reminds me…I gotta have Giles do the un-delusting spell.” Willow flushed and ducked her head in embarrassment. “Yeah. I give up. Xander’s a giant weasel, but he doesn’t deserve my meanness. Though it has come in handy…”
“You’re finally gonna undo the delust? And what if the lust starts up again?”
The redhead shrugged. “Have you remind me how much I adore Oz? I-I really think the lust…it was only there because…childhood crush issues a-and being very confused. But Xander is swine. Smelly, ookie swine. And, being Jewish, I just don’t find him kosher.”
Buffy nodded. “Good for you, Wills.”
“Well, the Xander-hate worked for some things. I gave him a talking to about you and your decisions. Well, not so much a talking to as I threatened him.” She flashed an innocent smile and shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s gonna help him deal, but I tried.”
“And that means a lot. A whole lot,” Buffy assured her. “It doesn’t really matter. He’s just gonna have to deal. Being of the claimed? Not much with the options. And even if it was, I love Spike. And he knows it. And he’s all—”
“Spike’s here.”
Buffy looked up sharply, her eyes darting rapidly from one end of the hall to the next. “He is? Where? I don’t see him.”
Willow rolled her eyes and wrapped her hand around her friend’s arm, dragging her to the library door and pointing through the window. “In there.”
“Oh.” Oh. “Of course. I knew that.”
The redhead arched a brow. “Uh huh.”
Buffy just glanced down sheepishly. Okay, so she didn’t know how to play it cool. She was a big massive failure at playing it cool.
And why should she? Spike was here.
Playing it cool was not even on her radar.
Spike rolled his eyes and took a quick survey of his surroundings. He was with the sodding Watcher; there ought to be some stakes lying around. Or a nice, sharp, axe. A crossbow would do. Didn’t rightly matter as long as it was sharp or pointy. All he needed was something to swing or throw at Angel the next time the overgrown ponce looked at him like that. Like he was a disease, and he couldn’t wait to give Buffy the cure. The stupid wanker was going to get a nice sliver of wood right through the chest, or a swift decapitation. Whichever was easier provided the available weaponry.
“Oi. Watcher.” Spike took a pronounced step away from his grandsire and shivered. “What’s this overgrown ponce doing here, anyway?”
Giles snickered appreciatively, drawing a book off the top shelf in the caged-off section of the library. “Bloody good question, if you ask me.”
“Hey!” Angel waved. “I’m standing right here.”
“Yeh, mate.” Spike arched a brow and slid a hand into his duster pocket for his fags. His search turned up nothing. Must have forgotten to slip the new pack into his pocket. Bloody figured. Just when he could really use something in his mouth. “That’s the problem.”
“When Buffy gets here—”
It took much effort to refrain from tearing the git’s head off for daring to speak Buffy’s name. He should get a medal for his restraint. “When Buffy gets here,” he growled, his voice strained, “she’ll say the same bloody thing. Only don’ expect her to be as calm as I am.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed. “You’re real proud of what you’ve done to her, aren’t you?”
“Not nearly as proud as she is, mate.”
“You—”
Spike lowered his head, glowering. “Oi. Watch it. Don’t make me stake you jus’ to see how li’l Buffy won’t care. Had to talk the poor li’l twig down from sticking something nice an’ pointy in your chest for the…oh, what was that? Trying to get her killed.”
“I was trying to help,” Angel replied, his eyes darkening. “And you’re an idiot if you think I would have ever let anything happen to her.” He paused. “No. Check that. You’re just an idiot. The Cruciamentum is notoriously cruel and barbaric. Do you really think that the Council would have gone any softer? Do you really think that they would’ve done anything differently? Do you really think that Kralik was the worst thing they could’ve thrown at her?”
There was a quiet minute as Spike considered, his brows flickering upward in interest. “Well, when you put it that way…” He snarled and stormed over, reveling in the smack of Angel’s dainty flesh as his fist sank into the poofter’s eye. “You touch her again, an’ I’ll make sure your ashes are scattered at each corner of the globe.”
“I’ll be happy to help,” Giles offered cheerfully.
“There just aren’t enough words to express how much I hate the both of you,” Angel grumbled.
Spike gasped dramatically and placed a hand over his unbeating heart. “Peaches. You wound.”
“Spike—”
“Spike!”
His head whipped up just in time to see a blur of blonde hair flying through the library’s swinging doors. And instantly, his anger vanished, his scowl melting into a warm smile. Angel was immediately forgotten.
Buffy was here.
“Spike.” The next thing he knew, he had an armful of warm, vibrant slayer, her hands cupping his cheeks and dragging his mouth down to hers. And he melted into her kiss, his hands slipping down her sides, grasping her ass to grind her into his growing erection. He heard Angel’s disgusted sigh and Giles’s quick shuffling to make himself as busy as possible. He would have thought himself filled with warmth at the idea that she would snog him so liberally in front of her chums, but the second her lips touched his, the world melted away.
“I missed you,” she whimpered, sucking his lower lip into her sweet mouth. “It’s been—”
“Forever,” he agreed, nipping at her tongue. “At least three hours.”
“Three and a half, but who’s counting?”
Giles cleared his throat. Loudly. “Ummm…if you two…could just…separate for a second.”
“Sod off,” Spike growled threateningly into her mouth, grinding her against his erection, “we’re busy.”
Angel shrugged and marched forward. “Hey. I’ll help.”
“Try it,” Buffy murmured between kisses, “and I’ll scatter your ashes all over the globe.”
Spike pulled back at that, his eyes shining brightly. “Hey, that’s what I said.”
“Yeah?” she asked, leaning in to nibble on his lower lip again.
“Not two bloody minutes ago.”
“Nifty!” She kissed the corner of his mouth before swallowing him with her lips again. “We must be linked or something.”
“Mystical forces.”
“Some sort of ancient binding ritual.”
“Say,” Spike mused, brushing his lips across her cheek, then again at the pulse point of her throat. “You think it’s possible that our blood is tied together for all eternity?”
“Quite possible.”
The redheaded pipsqueak at the head of the library made a noise that sounded a lot like the sounds Dru used to make at cute, fuzzy animals before she gutted them.
“Awww. Aren’t they cute?”
Angel growled and the small little awww sounds vanished. “Well,” Willow amended, fidgeting. “They are.”
“She’s wearing Spike’s clothes again,” the old sod grumbled, pouting.
“Umm, yeah,” the redhead agreed, arching a brow. “A-and you’re surprised?”
Giles blinked rapidly, studiously avoiding turning his eyes to the blond couple that seemingly couldn’t take their hands off each other, and flashed Willow a weak smile. “Angel seems to be in a perpetual state of denial,” he said. “Every time he sees something regarding Buffy’s…closeness to Spike, he reacts as though it is, well, news.”
“I do not,” Angel grumbled.
“Yeah, all your posturing suggests nothing but warmth and puppies,” Willow retorted dryly. “I really don’t see the big, here. I mean, if you’re gonna scream about the whole vampire thing, I gotta say, look in the mirror.” She paused. “Or, you know, don’t. Because that won’t work…because of the vampire thing. Point is that there is serious pot/kettle stuff going on a-and Spike saved Buffy’s life after you endangered it and they’re all with the claimy goodness. Plus they’re in love. You know what in-love Buffy is like.”
“Bloody unreasonable,” Spike drawled, affectionately tugging at Buffy’s earlobe with his teeth. “Not a chit I would fancy pissing off. Savvy?”
Giles cleared his throat. Hard. “Perhaps you two would be kind enough to…stop touching one another inappropriately. After all, this meeting is to discuss the new…order of things. I think Buffy’s newly…claimed state will be easier for everyone to accept if there isn’t so much…”
“Groping?” Willow ventured.
“Fondling?” Angel growled.
“Erm. Touching,” Giles concluded, his glasses sliding seamlessly off his nose and landing in the hem of his shirt. “Buffy?”
“Xander and Cordy will be here in a second,” Willow agreed, nodding. “And Oz.”
The Watcher nodded. “And probably Faith, at some point.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oh, joy,” she spat. “Speaking of people who need their asses handed to them.”
Angel sighed. “Buffy…”
“No, I really don’t need a lecture from you. Now or ever.” Her hands slid down Spike’s arms. “We’re here to get with the program, right? Or help others…get with it. Then Spike and I are going to patrol. Then…” She flashed her lover a timid look and shuffled her feet. “I-I was hoping you…and I…we could Bronze it? You know, try to make some gang time so they feel more comfortable with the you and me that is…us.”
Spike grinned. She was so bloody cute when she was trying to play it coy. Did she honestly think there was even a snowman’s chance in hell that he’d say no? That he’d deny her anything? Her chums were important to her. Very important. And he knew it was vital that they understand. Not just the redhead, who seemed to be taking everything very well. There was the boy, and the cheerleader, and the wolf. She needed her friends happy. As much as the thought appealed to him, Spike knew that she couldn’t be all his all the time.
Therefore, if Buffy wanted to go dancing, he’d take her dancing. And he’d get her so bloody hot and bothered that she’d be begging him to take her to bed…or to the nearest dark corner. Which ever was more convenient.
“Right then,” he purred. “Whatever you want, pet. I’m at your disposal.”
“So we Bronze?”
“If that’s what you want.”
God, he loved putting that light into her eyes. That shine of happiness. That glow. She was so lovely. Christ, she was…well, for lack of a better word, effulgent. His effulgent goddess.
She was all his.
Something Spike was about to demonstrate with another hefty bout of snogging when the library doors swung open once more.
Speaking of the Scoobies. All three of them, right in a row. The whelp with the cheerleader and the wolf on either shoulder. How was that for bloody timing?
“So, what’s the what? Cordy keeps trying to tell me that Buffy’s really pregnant this time, but that just lost all its…hey.” Xander stopped, frowning, his eyes going wide. “What’s Buffy doing all cuddly with the undead…again?”
Willow rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Xander, do you selectively block out what I tell you?”
He smiled weakly, obviously confused.
“I told you.” Cordelia offered an indignant huff. “No one ever listens to me. She’s pregnant again.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “In order for me to be pregnant again, I’d have to have been pregnant a first time. There was no pregnancy. There was a fleeting bout of stupidity-laced panic. No demonic Elvis-impersonator lovechild. Okay? And Spike’s here because…well…”
Angel crossed his arms, his brows perking.
“Well…we’re dating. Only…permanently. Spike loves me. I love Spike. We did some serious mojo without knowing it and we’re kinda, umm, linked. But we’re happy about it. As in sublimely. Because we love each other.” As though to emphasize the love part, Buffy edged closer to Spike and wrapped her arms around his middle. Then her voice hardened—the small, frightened girl vanishing in the face of the woman she’d become. “And if you’re not okay with that, you’re free to leave. Now.”
There was a long, quiet moment. Xander blinked hard, his hands coming up in a show of neutrality. “Points for being okay with it,” he said. “Way I see it…anyone who rescues the Buffster from a souled-but-morally-ambiguous Angel has serious marks in the Xan-Man’s book. I’m not saying I understand it but—”
Buffy quirked a brow. “Willow threatened you?”
Willow beamed, oddly proud of herself.
The whelp nodded, not missing a beat. “And considering how much I haven’t been on her list of Most Favoritist People, I think I wanna keep my…parts intact. So…” He offered Spike a halfhearted wave. “Welcome to the show that never ends.”
He nodded, confused but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the Slayer’s friends were going to accept him literally with a smile and a nod, he’d take it. After all, it meant the world to Buffy. “Thanks, mate.”
“Here without bias. Want to keep my parts,” Xander affirmed with yet another nod.
Buffy nodded appreciatively, turning her eyes to Cordelia and Oz. “You guys want to weigh in?”
“I really don’t care what happens,” Cordelia replied, shrugging apathetically. “As long as the words killing and spree are far from the picture, you can screw the dead as much as you want.”
The Slayer wrinkled her nose. “Um. Thanks. I think.” She turned to Oz. “And you?”
He shrugged. “As Willow goes, so goes my nation.”
Buffy cracked a smile. “That sounds vaguely familiar,” she mused, tightening her arms around Spike’s middle. “Hey. Look at this.”
He grinned and kissed her cheek. “An’ you were worried.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t say anything. Instead, she just rested her head at his shoulder as her chums settled in around them. He felt her heart beating against him, felt her pulse racing under his touch. Felt her life thrum beneath his fingertips.
Her warmth. Her life. Her purity. It burned him, but he didn’t dust.
Not with her at his side.
With Buffy, he lived.
To be concluded