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Author's Chapter Notes:
As I promised, I upated Hunter's Bane (sorry, Andrew, I'll get to you soon!). This is a short chapter, just filler really, cause the next one will be pretty long, and I've taken to writing shorter chapters due to the real fear of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (it's painful, it hurts like hell, feels like Satan is stabbing me with knives in my wrists - hows that description for ya?) - cause I type A LOT for a living, everyday.

Yet the stories keep comin! It's like my muse is on triple shot esspresso and Jagershots with Red Bull - the little sucker won't let me sleep. Needless to say, I've got A LOT typed up, but it's quite formless at the moment.

Thanks as always to the women I affectionately call my Demon Butchers, Dusty273 and Im_Bloody_English - you know i love you and yes it's a compliment when I say you're bloodier than Jack the Ripper.

For Vara and Shadow - you gals are as strong as rocks, I admire ya! And Vara? No LSD for you! hehehehe
“So love, what’ll it be?”

Buffy glanced over her shoulder in the mirror at the spot where Spike should be standing. She hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off the beautiful pendent, watching the odd bits of light catch the gems, smiling at its dual purpose of being elegant and practical. He tried to keep you safe, even in death, whispered through her mind as she bit her lip to keep from tearing up.

“I’m still really tired,” she murmured then yawned as proof.

“Yeah, well, it’s time for all good Slayers to be up and about…not lazy slugabeds. What you need is some food. Your skinny arse would be blown away by a strong breeze.”

She turned to give him a patented ‘Buffy’ look. “Skinny arse? I’ll have you know that…well I-I train and…”

“Your body has lost muscle tone and mass, love. You barely eat enough to keep a bird alive, much less a human,” he admonished from his position on the edge of her bed. “Now get dressed. Gonna get some food down your gullet and fatten you up.”

“I don’t wanna be fat, Spike,” she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip.

His eyes glazed over as he stared at her mouth. The words escaped before he knew he was saying them. “Oh pouty…gonna get that lip.”

Buffy startled with recognition as she watched Spike slowly advance on her, sitting behind her once again on the vanity bench. Closing her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his body, she had to suppress the urge to giggle when he started nuzzling her neck, just beneath her hairline. Apparently it was his favorite place to do wicked things to her.

Spike felt mirth filter through to him and wondered what had caused such a reaction. “What’re you thinking ‘bout, pet?”

“Wondering if you still wanted to register as ‘Mr. and Mrs. Big Pile O’Dust’.”

He immediately stopped his attentions and withdrew, leaving her bereft and wondering what the hell just happened. “Spike? What’s wrong?”

His lips thinned and he glanced away from her. Can’t have her that way, mate. She wouldn’t have you that way. She doesn’t even know what she’s saying, never said she loves you or said she cared about you in that way. Poor thing’s just upset about being brought back and you happen to be convenient. He couldn’t stop his spiraling thoughts as he paced within the small confines of her room. Truthfully, he didn’t know which was worse, nearly losing his sanity because she’d died, or, completely losing it now that she was alive and he couldn’t have her.

“Spike? I’m sorry?” she apologized although she had no idea why. The tortured look on his face scared her, watching him pace like a caged animal.

“S’ok pet, just…memories, ‘s all,” he muttered after seeing what he was doing to her. He really hoped she’d drop the subject because he wasn’t in the mood to examine it further. Just remembering her snuggled up on his lap for those few hours was torment enough.

“O-ok,” she whispered. She got up and headed into her closet to pick out something to wear, biting her lip to keep from sobbing again, failing miserably. Instead, she buried her face in her arm as she reached above her to pull something off of a high shelf, squeezing her eyes shut. Stupid…stupid vampire! Why’d I have to go and lick that blood off my fingers? Why didn’t I just wash it off the counter like a sane person would do? Why can’t I stop looking at him? Why do I feel like he knows the very deepest part of my soul?

Sniffling as quietly as she could, she wiped her eyes as a thought occurred to her. She peeked her head around the corner of the closet door to see him clenching and unclenching his fists outside in the hallway. He looked like he was physically restraining himself to keep from entering her bedroom, which deepened her suspicions. “Spike?”

He never fully turned around and only inclined the back of his head in the direction of her voice. It was a few moments before he even responded, his words strained. “Yeah, pet?”

“How did you know I was…in trouble last night?”

“Bugger,” he grumbled, turning to look her in the eye. She stood near her bed with her arms crossed over her chest, her red nose a dead give away that she’d been crying again, as if he hadn’t felt every tear slice another wound in his chest. He’d had to control his reaction to her sorrow and feelings of inadequacy, forcing himself not to respond for fear of her realizing there was something he hadn’t told her. Clever girl figured it out for herself though. Bugger.

“Well? Were you being all stalker guy or-”

“You pulled me here,” he said. “I don’t know of any other way to put it, Buffy. Your emotions pulled me here. An’ when I saw you curled up like that, it-it scared me,” he admitted and entered her room again.

“I pulled you here?” She watched the struggle within him as he hesitantly made his way to stand before her. “How?” she whispered.

He reached up and began caressing her bottom lip, as if caught in a hypnotic state. “Told you last night, pet. You tasted something that’s usually reserved for turning…or claims,” he said quietly, putting emphasis on the last word.

Confusion clouded her eyes. “But you said I wasn’t a vampire, that I didn’t take enough for a full transfer…oh my God!” she said frantically as realization finally dawned on her. “Oh God Spike…what have I done?”

He backed away, just in case she felt the need to knock him senseless. He may love the chit, but that didn’t give her the right to beat on him when she felt like it. As if their roles had suddenly reversed, he now watched her pace, wringing her hands in agitation, and he felt helpless in trying to find any way in which to comfort her. It wasn’t like he could do anything to change the situation. He didn’t even know Buffy had done anything until it was too late, the changes already starting to take effect within her system.

“Spike, are you even listening to me?” she groused as she ceased pacing and glared at him, hands on her hips.

Apparently she had been speaking…and he wasn’t listening, caught up as he was in his own morose thoughts. “Sorry love, say again?”

“I asked what exactly has happened to me…to us?”

He shuffled from side to side as he debated exactly what to tell her. “You started a claim, pet,” he sighed. “Don’t rightly know what kind yet, ‘cause you only took a bit, just enough to get it started. And since I’ve never claimed anyone, I don’t have the faintest clue as to what will happen.”

Buffy frowned. “But I thought…didn’t you claim Drusilla?”

“Dru? Are you off your rocker? She was bleedin’ insane before she even turned me, she was circling the Fruit Loop bowl. She didn’t want me in that way, and I didn’t see the point in tying myself to a woman that would despise me later,” he said a little more harshly than intended. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved her – her and those damned dolls she dragged from city to city. But it was never reciprocated.”

“But you stayed with her. Why?” she asked softly.

He took her hands in his cool grasp and held onto them, waiting until she looked him in the eye. “That’s what you do when you love someone. You stay. Leastwise it’s that way for me.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it as she cocked her head to the side. “Someone’s coming.”

Spike closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, spreading his senses outward. “Red and Glinda are home,” he confirmed.

“Great,” she muttered, none too happy.

“Meet me at the IHOP in town. It’s gonna be dark all day, what with the rain an’ all. We can get some nosh while we talk…if you want?” he suggested as he neared the window and opened it to feel the breeze made cool by the rain that was still falling.

“What about my eyes?” she said in panic. “Won’t they ask about them?”

“Avoid em’. Tell em’ you’re taking a shower and gonna go out, that you’ll see em’ this evening.”

“You think that’ll work?” she asked skeptically.

“No, I just wanna imagine you naked…all that water running down your luscious body…Oof!”

Buffy pushed him out onto the roof with a smirk, closing the window before he could gain entrance again. She smiled when he tapped on the glass, watching the water drip down his handsome face, as he motioned her to come close. When she pressed her nose to the pane, her warm breath fogging it up, he winked as he pointed to her then his cheek as he laid it against the wet glass. Opening her mouth, she blew out a heavy breath, causing even more condensation on the barrier between them. Then she closed her eyes and kissed the place where his cheek was, leaving a kiss print in the mist.

Spike felt that kiss, even through the glass, and it made his heart burst with warmth at her easy affection. He looked at her through the window, his eyes saying all he wanted but couldn’t. The rain ran in rivulets down his cheeks as his curls relaxed from their gelled state, falling into his eyes because they were so long. He saw that Buffy was about to open the window again, knowing that if she did, he wouldn’t leave…ever. He stopped her with a shake of his head and mouthed the word later, then dropped to the ground and headed off in the direction of Restfield.

He didn’t see her draw a heart around her mouth print.


Chapter End Notes:
Next - Talk over pancakes and the Scoobies



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