As they headed back to her house, Buffy didn't say a word about what had happened, about what she'd decided or why she'd decided it. She still couldn't believe that she'd told everyone that she didn't want to break the claim. It was so unlike her to do such a thing, especially when it involved a certain vampire. She'd seen the look on Angel's face, and for a second, she wanted to take it back. He was the love of her life. But then she saw Spike...
Surprisingly, Spike kept his usually opened mouth shut as well. He figured that if he'd started blabbering, Buffy might have changed her mind, and then all those 'in-your-face' gestures he’d done in front of a completely peeved Angel would have been for nothing.
The only time they'd made noises on the walk to Revello Drive was when Spike pulled Buffy into a dark alley and thanked her. He spent a full hour showing her just how much he appreciated what she’d done and why she wouldn’t regret it.
And God, she so didn't.
Spike glanced over at Buffy as they walked across the front yard and noticed that she was fidgeting. Until then, he had not even thought about how Joyce might react if she found out about them. Watching her bite her lip and slow her steps reminded him of the time Buffy’d had to tell her mom about being a Slayer. He recalled how he'd gone along with Buffy's lame 'I'm in a band' excuse, how synchronized they'd been as they fought the lackey Angelus had sent after them, and the meaningful look they’d exchanged before Buffy had told Joyce about her calling. Back then, he’d thought they were a little too in sync, a little too understanding of each other, to be mortal enemies.
It was funny how he seemed to be present at some of the most pivotal moments in her life – and even funnier that he had actually cared when he really shouldn't have. It made him wonder if they really were destined for each other; mates, as the claim asserted them to be.
It also made him wonder when he had become a sad, sappy vampire like Peaches, who was probably brooding more than ever at that very moment. Take that, you pillock!
“You going to tell her or should I?” It was only right that he be the one to tell Joyce everything, since it all sort of was his fault. Also, Buffy looked like she was going to be sick.
Not wanting anyone to fight her battles, Buffy snapped at him, “I can do this, okay? I'm just really, really, really scared.”
“You're scared? I'm responsible for ruining her daughter's life,” Spike reminded her.
Buffy stifled a smile as she teased, “Yes. Yes, you are.”
“Glad to be of service,” Spike said with a leer as they strode up the steps to the front porch. The memory of Joyce holding an axe over his head flashed before his eyes and he thought out loud, “Maybe we should hide all the axes first.”
Buffy chuckled and then faced the door, which was the only thing standing between her and her imminent doom – that and telling the truth. She remained still, gripping the doorknob so hard that it might have gotten deformed.
Pure amusement was painted on Spike's face as he watched Buffy take several deep breaths, none of which calmed her down or urged her forward. “Anytime soon, kitten.”
Buffy cast him a glare and took one last deep breath, turned the doorknob, and pushed the door open. “Mom?”
They were surprised to find Joyce, Giles, and Angel sitting in the dining room. Joyce turned to them, her brows furrowed in worry. Buffy immediately knew they had beaten her to telling her mom everything.
“Angel and Mr. Giles here have told me something very interesting,” Joyce said, eyes downcast as she stood up. She crossed her arms across her chest and lifted her eyes to stare steadily at the two. “Mind explaining to me what a claim is?”
Buffy chuckled nervously and whispered to Spike, “We shouldn't have taken that detour.”
Buffy lay still on her bed. It was just midnight and it was too early for her to be sleeping. She should be out patrolling, but instead she was stuck at home.
It would have been sort of okay if Joyce had only grounded her. She'd been grounded many times before and was used to it. However, not only was she not allowed to patrol alone, but she and Spike were to go through with the ritual – with Joyce present – and then she was never to see him, ever again.
Never. Ever. Again.
“That would be great because then I could forget all about this insanity,” she muttered to herself. She closed her eyes and groaned. “Great. Now I'm even talking to myself.”
She suddenly sat up with a jolt when she heard rustling sounds from outside her window. She slowly got up and grabbed a cross from her desk. She tiptoed to her window and jumped in front of it, flashing the cross at whatever was climbing into her room.
There was growl, a loud thud, and a scream of, “Bloody Hell!”
Knowing that voice all too well now, her eyes widened. “Oh my God!” she panicked, and hurriedly climbed out of the window onto the roof. “Spike? Oh, God.” She peered down at the vampire who lay on the ground.
“I'm fine. I'm okay,” he groaned as he slowly sat up.
“I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” she whispered loudly. She heard him grumble and within a few seconds, he was up on the roof with her. She sat down and hugged her knees. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighborhood.” He glanced down and saw Buffy roll her eyes. “Fine. I was hungry and--”
“You killed someone?” Buffy asked in disbelief, her eyes wide. Spike killed someone. Of course he needed to kill someone. It had been a day since he’d had blood and even though she’d had her fill just a couple hours ago, she was sure it wasn't enough to take care of his blood lust.
“I wanted to, but...” I didn't want to test your patience and make you stop letting me shag you. “I came here to ask if you had any blood.”
“Oh.” Buffy kept staring at him in curiosity.
Spike raised his eyebrows when five seconds had passed and she still hadn't torn her eyes away from him or moved. “Do I have to suck it out of you?” he prompted.
She quickly averted eyes from his. “Right. Sorry. Wait here,” she said and stood up, her face turning red like a tomato. She crawled into her room and Spike followed her. He walked over to her side table and picked up Mr. Gordo. “Quietly. And don't touch anything,” she reprimanded. He rolled his eyes and set Mr. Gordo back down.
As soon as Buffy was out the door, he made his way to her dresser and started opening the drawers one by one until he came upon her panties. He fingered a black lace thong and shoved it inside his coat pocket with a huge grin on his face.
He moved to the bed and sat down, his hands clasped between his legs and lips pursed. His lips quirked into a sad smile at the thought that Buffy didn't even realize he just wanted to see her, be with her, before he had to leave Sunnydale. He turned to the door when he heard it open and saw Buffy holding the mug of blood.
“Here you go. 98.6,” she said as she handed him the mug. He smiled in gratitude and she looked away. Everything was still so weird and still needed getting used to. “Thanks,” she murmured.
He cocked his head. “For what, pet?”
She glanced back up at him. “For not killing.”
She was falling for him. He wasn't just being his usual, arrogant, narcissistic self. He could feel it and see it in her eyes. It scared him. Best to remind her what he was. “Don't think I won't kill again. I was just... tired,” he mumbled before sipping a little bit of the blood. Okay, he'd gone a little soft. But then again, he had always liked people a little.
“Right.” She smiled knowingly at him and he chuckled sheepishly. Shy Spike equals adorable.
They sat in silence until he finished and immediately stood up. “I should be off.”
She was a little disappointed. She half expected him to kidnap her or something. She stood up as he slipped out of the window. “See you tomorrow night?”
He turned to her for a second and smiled sadly.
It hadn’t been even a month since he and Drusilla had parted ways and yet he’d already managed to find a girl and get his heart broken again. He knew he was love's bitch. Admitted it even to his enemies to make a point, didn't he? He just didn't think he'd be having a repeat this early. Besides, he'd always thought Drusilla was it. The one.
Apparently not. Because here he was in Buffy's kitchen, wanting to be a in a drunken stupor as he sat and waited for Giles to call him so they could start the ritual. It wasn't really about the ritual or breaking the claim. It was having no excuse to stay in Sunnydale anymore – except that he wanted to be around Buffy. And he was sure that they wouldn’t let him stay for that.
One day, he'd kill them all. A vampire could dream, couldn’t he?
“It's time.” The relief and anticipation in Giles' voice was palpable. Spike couldn't blame him.
He followed Giles into the living room where everyone was set up. They stood in a circle. Willow began to chant the incantations she had started to chant just the day before. Smoke and dust filled the room, encircled them, and Joyce and Xander looked around nervously. At Willow's nod, Angel cut his palm and let his blood drip into the chalice.
Spike saw Angel hand the chalice to Giles, who began to sprinkle some weird looking powder and liquid ingredients while saying some things which only sounded like 'blah, blah, blah' to him.
Giles then handed the chalice to Buffy. She looked around the room and hesitantly drank half of the concoction.
Spike clenched his jaw and cast his eyes down. As soon as the chalice reached him, he chugged what was left of the liquid and threw the chalice to the floor.
The smoke and dust cleared. So did Spike and Buffy's necks. The claim marks were gone.
He saw the three wankers open their mouths and he knew what was coming. Might as well leave without being kicked out, he thought. At least then he'd still have that shred of dignity. “Well, as much as I'd like to stay and chat or beat you all to your bloody, gruesome deaths,” he said with a sneer. He turned from them and bolted out of the place before anyone could see his Nancy boy tears.
Willow and Xander smiled widely as they approached Buffy. They were obviously glad and Buffy was angry at them for it. And before Willow could put her hand on her arm, she backpedaled. “I'm really tired.” She glanced around at everyone and waited for them to get what she meant. They glanced at each other with hurt looks on their faces and reluctantly filed outas they left the room. Angel stayed and told her her they needed to talk.
She was incredibly pissed off. More so that Angel was still there, sitting besidefar too close to her in her living room, talking to her about things she really didn't want to talk about with him. She’d told herself to give him the time andto let him say what he had to say. This was Angel. But now, he was just really making her mad.
“I'm sure you were just feeling that way because of the claim. I mean, it is impossible for you to like Spike,” he snorted bitterly, after a long speech about understanding she hadn’t been herself before and that he forgave her and understood.
She had been trying to tune him out until he said Spike's name. She tilted her head slightly and asked in disbelief, “Why?”
“This is Spike we're talking about,” he chuckled. “You were just telling me how much you hated him a few days ago. Back then, you wouldn't even have wasted a breath talking about him.”
“That was before,” she tried to explain. But it was hard because she didn't understand it herself.
“He is still evil.”
“I know,” she conceded.
“Then what the Hell, Buffy?”
“Look, you don't know what we've shared these past couple of--”
“What? Sex? Is that the thing you want that I can't give you? Because I'll lose my soul? I know how good Spike is when it comes to sex.” He realized what he'd just implied and hurried to explain. “Not that I...” he trailed off when he saw the look on Buffy’s face. Her jaw was dropped and her nose was wrinkled. She was disgusted, obviously. He just didn't know if it was because he’d implied that he and Spike had had sex or because he’d implied that she was some sex-crazed teenager.
It was the latter. Buffy could not believe he'd think that about her. She couldn't believe those words had come from the man she loved. Her first love. Her first. Just goes to show just how much she didn't know about him. And if she didn't really know him, why the Hell did she love him?
Buffy shook her head at herself, scoffing, and a frown drew a line between Angel’s brows. “What?” he demanded.
Buffy huffed and stood up from the sofa and looked down at him. “You are so getting uninvited again.”
Angel stood up and followed her out into the hall. “Where are you going?”
“It's none of your business,” she said. “In fact, it's none of anyone’s business.”
She walked out of the house with a purpose in mind. To hell with her friends.