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Hope you all enjoy! thank you Sanityfair and DreamScape 99
Buffy awoke as she was getting a completely different view of Sunnydale High’s hallways. She was strapped down to a stretcher, as she was taken from the school by the E.M.T.

Buffy spent the next countless hours being poked, prodded, and connected to machines that beeped and buzzed as the medical staff tried to solve the mystery of her illness. Her mom stood vigil while she underwent myriads of tests. Eventually the doctor, still baffled by the results of said tests, decided he would like to keep Buffy overnight for observation.

Number of hours later, she was finally brought upstairs to her own private room, sometime around dinner. The pungent smell of hospital food made her gag as she passed the covered dinner trays in the hallways. Gratefully, when the door of her hospital room closed, the wooden barrier kept most of the overwhelming odors at bay.

As Buffy was cocooned by the darkness and silence of her room, the incessant pounding abated only slightly, despite all the tests and drugs. When they arrived into the room, Buffy suggested to her mother that she should go get something to eat from the cafeteria. Begrudgingly, her mother agreed and after she placed a chaste kiss to her forehead, she complied. Buffy was alone at last. This was the first time since early this morning, which seemed like hundreds of years ago.


As the pain slowly started to subside, her mother returned to the room. Despite how quiet she was, a slight hum that was once gone, now returned to her mind. Several moments later, a soft knock sounded on her door. The door then slowly opened as someone popped his or her head in. Buffy immediately encased herself in the blankets, to block out the sounds and light. She overheard the slightly muffled, brief conversation between her mom and this other person. After Buffy listened, she could tell that her mom was speaking with Willow. After a few more exchanged words, Willow’s voice was joined by two other voices, males. One voice was faintly lighthearted, with a hint of jest, Xander, the other, deep and cultured, Giles.

“Buffy, sweetheart, Mr. Giles and your friends are here to see you. Can you come out from the blankets?” Joyce asked softly.

Buffy reluctantly pulled her head from the linens, and slowly sat up to greet her visitors. Her eyes flickered as she tried to adjust to the small hint of light that spilled out from the bathroom door that was left slightly ajar. Joyce must have turned it on for the benefit of her guests. However, Joyce immediately noticed her daughter’s struggle with the minimal light and handed her the Jackie O sunglasses, which had remained on her face the entire time she was in the ER. With a small whisper of ‘thanks’, Buffy fitted the glasses over her highly sensitive eyes.

The once hum, was now magnified tenfold into a steady pulse of vibrations, as it surged throughout her skull. In addition to the increased discomfort, she noticed that her friends were closely observing her. Buffy felt as though she was under a microscope or the main attraction in P.T. Barnum’s sideshow of freaks. Willow’s soft whisper broke through the silence,

“How are you feeling Buffy?”

“Been better Wills. Thanks for coming you guys,” Buffy croaked, while her parched throat constricted around her words.

“Is there anything we can get you Buffster? Xander whispered.

“No, but thanks,” Buffy responded as she began to rub her temples with her fingertips.

“I’m glad you’re alright Buffy. We are all terribly concerned and hope for your speedy recovery,” Giles added in a soft murmur.

“Yeah, me too,” Buffy responded as she continued to rub.

“Everyone, I think Buffy needs her rest. I’ll keep you updated,” Joyce responded as she leaned over and placed a gentle loving kiss upon Buffy’s crown. After this heartfelt gesture, she looked at Buffy’s visitors in hopes that they understood the meanings behind her soft words. Giles quickly nodded his head as he responded.

“Ah… Yes. Willow, Xander, let’s depart in order to give Buffy time to recover. Mrs. Summers, you will keep us abreast of any changes won’t you?” Giles asked in a gentle voice.

“Certainly,” Joyce responded, as she guided Buffy’s guests out of her room. Joyce turned and whispered; “I’ll be right back,” with this, she followed them out. Gratefully, within moments of their departure, the vibrations that ran fiercely throughout her mind had subsided once more. A steady breath seeped from her lungs, as she was relieved that the throbbing had vanished again.

Once relief washed through her body, Buffy began to focus on the voices outside her door. She could clearly hear her mother through the barrier as she spoke to another. After intently listening for a moment, she recognized that it was her doctor. Joyce asked him if they had found the reason for her illness. The doctor said he believed, based on the numerous blood tests, that Buffy had a form of anemia. He also indicated that once she received a minor blood transfusion, she would make a speedy recovery. The doctor then inquired if Buffy had had any recent trauma, where there was any significant blood loss. As Joyce responded “No”, Buffy’s mind flashed to Halloween night.

“Mmmm…delicious. I need more.”

Spike shifted to his vampire visage as his fangs pierced her tender throat, as he savored her blood.

“Mine!” then he returned to the column of her throat.

Buffy’s desire burst forward as her panties started to dampen, new throbbing blossoming from her womb. After several moments, anger filled her mind, as her inner voice sounded.

“Damn it! It’s all Spike’s fault! If I ever see his bleached ass again, he’s dust in the wind!” As Buffy’s mind rolled over this thought, her mother reentered into the room.

“Buffy, the doctors believe that your illness is caused by anemia and…” Joyce soft explanation was interrupted by Buffy,

“Yeah, I heard. They said that want me to have a blood transfusion. I have no problem with that. I’ll try anything if it will make me feel any better,” Buffy stated bluntly to her mother. Joyce just stared, her mouth agape for several moments before she asked Buffy with a shaky voice.

“How did you hear our conversation?” Joyce inquired slightly louder than her recent whispers.

“What do you mean mom? I’m sick, not deaf. Of course I’m going to hear you when you guys are talking outside my door,” Buffy responded with a huff.

“Buffy, I happened to meet up with the doctor, down the hall at the elevators. After I saw your guests out, we had the entire conversation there,” Joyce explained in awe. Buffy’s eyes widened at this information. Before either woman could further the conversation, the nurse came into the room, plastic package in hand, to hang a bag of O negative.

**** ****

Spike paced inside the four walls of his room, as he could sense the deadly sun fading into the horizon. He resembled a sleek panther in an old zoo cage. Spike’s demon screamed for him to find his mate, or more specifically, the Slayer. He tried to defy this demand. Each passing minute the more difficult it became to refuse his demon’s command.

Twenty-one. Twenty-one minutes he lasted until he’d busted into the night in search of her. Usually when he tracked someone, he would let his finely tuned olfactory sense take over. Raising his head in order to catch her scent, his insides wretched, silent order for him to obey. He started to follow the direction that his insides ordered, his feet obediently followed, and he traveled through the busy streets of Sunnydale.

At first, his gait was slow and methodical. The drive became stronger, his strides became a quick clip. Then everything stopped. When Spike looked up at the building before him, his eyes widened at the possible implications, Sunnydale Hospital.

He wanted to burst through the doors. If he had to, he would check every room until he found her. Luckily, his logic trumped his raging desire. Spike knew that it was still very early. “Too many people,” his inner voice protested.

Spike knew he wouldn’t be able to claim his mate with doctors, nurses and visitors milling about. He had to bide his time. Despite Spike's gut twisting at the thought, he slowly moved away from the hospital in search of dinner. Soon he would return and demand what was his.


Buffy started to rest comfortably once the blood entered her system. Color started to return to her cheeks. The constant pounding that resounded throughout her head, lessened and almost stopped completely. However, Buffy was still slightly sensitive to increased noise, which was created by a multitude of people. In addition, her eyes stung from the light, but overall she was doing far better.

Once she was feeling somewhat improved, Buffy managed to coax Joyce to go home and get some rest. Joyce held firm, saying that she wasn’t going to leave her ‘baby’ there alone. Once Buffy set her ace in the hole in motion, her pout, her mother caved. Joyce placed a tender kiss on her forehead and left for the evening.

Since this illness had wreaked havoc on her mind and body, Buffy fell into a dreamless sleep once she closed her eyes. Her sleep had remained that way, until Buffy’s mind sensed someone skittering along the outsides of her unconsciousness. Soon vivid dreams blossomed in her mind, dreams of a man in black; an angelic face that housed sharp cheekbones, full lips, an intense cerulean gaze. He carried an air of strength, power and raw sexuality. In her dreams, he stood before her, demanding what was his. Despite no words being spoken, she knew what he came for.

Her

Spike stood over the Slayer as she was tucked away in her hospital bed. She looked so small and frail. Wires and tubes connected to her once commanding form. Spike approached her bed. He noticed her heart beat on a monitor. Even before Spike noticed this machine, he could feel the strong tattoo of her warrior heart. Either way, these reassurances set his mind slightly at ease. Spike tried to determine what was ailing her, through smell. Spike inhaled an unneeded breath. He couldn’t make clear what exactly brought this fiery fighter to her knees. She smelled the same, well relatively the same. She no longer smelled pure, but that was his doing, not this illness whatever it may be. Even though the halls were permeated with the heavy stench of death and disease, they did not linger here.

Spike slowly leaned forward. His hand hovered over her exposed neck, more specifically the twin marks. His marks. The two holes were still puckered, but healed. They looked like how his mark felt under his fingertips. Spike’s body needed contact. He then moved forward as he ran his fingertips tenderly over her twin punctures. Once his touch landed, Buffy’s back slightly arched as she sought more of his contact. A throaty whispered fell from her now parted lips.

“Spike”

Buffy’s dreams started to fall away, as her consciousness seeped forward. Her heavy eyelids fluttered as she started to wake. Buffy's gaze started to clear; her head lolled to the side to see what her body was now aware of. Before her bed was a dark figure. Buffy’s mouth opened to cry out, a cool hand pressed to her lips before any sound could pass.

“Don’t make a sound Slayer, or I’ll tear your throat out where you lie,” a deep baritone growl ordered. Through the gag of chilly flesh, Buffy responded,

“Spk?” Buffy murmured as her gaze remained wide.

“Yeah Slayer, it’s me,” Spike answered.

“Wht ew dng hre?” Buffy continued to mumble.

“Look, as fascinating as this conversation is turning out to be. I don’t bloody well want to translate your muffled words. I talk. You listen. All yes and no questions. Nod your response, you got me?” Spike asked.

Buffy nodded slowly up and down, for ‘yes’.

“Good. Now, do you want to be here? In the hospital?”

Buffy shook her head ‘no.’

“Right. So let’s hightail it out of here,” Spike stated as he proceeded to pull his hand away. Before he completely removed it, he added, “You scream this will be your deathbed. Got it?”

Buffy shook her head again, ‘yes’. Once he removed his hand, she spoke,

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t bloody well know. It’s not a date Slayer, more come as you are. Hurry and get your kit, on so we can shove off,” Spike instructed as he turned to the small closet and threw Buffy’s gray sweatshirt and pants to her.

Spike turned his back to let her dress without his prying eyes. Upon noticing this, Buffy cocked a finely shaped eyebrow at this uncharacteristically gentlemanly show of consideration. While her sweatshirt slid over her toned abdomen, Spike turned and looked at her with an ‘ok let’s go’ expression. Before she moved, she needed to ask him,

“You’re not planning to kill me, are you?”

Spike eyes widened slightly since her voice sounding more like a wounded child, not the warrior she was. After several beats, he responded,

“Slayer, like I told you before, I want to taste your blood in the heat of battle. Anything less would not be fitting for a warrior’s death,” Spike commented brusquely.

“Well, you also said something about draining me dry like a Happy Meal, whatever that means,” Buffy retorted.

“Yeah, that I did. What of it Slayer? Like I said, I want your death from our epic battle. Not when you look worse than I did when I crawled from the grave,” Spike snickered.

“Thanks. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” Buffy commented dryly.

“You didn’t take issue with my charms while you were flat on your back, with my head buried in your then virginal cunny!” Spike snapped. Buffy’s mouth dropped open like a land bound fish. After several beats, she whispered loudly,

“Your such a pig!”

“Oink, oink baby. Now that we’ve had our first lover’s quarrel, can we get going before I have to eat some Florence Nightingale, who wants to know what all the noise is about?” Spike barked.

“Fine! How did you get in here anyway?” Buffy asked as he walked toward the door.

“Vampire….’ello? Over a hundred years in the shadows, I know how to get around without being spotted. Just stay close,” Spike instructed as he slowly exited the room with Buffy close behind.

Buffy tried to keep his pace as he stalked through the halls of the hospital. With the combination of her short stature, still feeling like hell, his long graceful legs and his state of agitation, she couldn’t keep up.

“Let’s go Slayer! This is not a tour of the hospital! You’re a minor leaving the place without permission, escorted by a vamp! Put a little wiggle in your arse!” Spike snarled as he turned around to look at the lagging girl.

“Pound sand bleached boy!” Buffy hissed back as she continued to follow him.

Finally, the duo made it out into the crisp night air. Spike continued to walk brusquely through the night, Buffy followed slowly behind. Letting his fury get the best of him, Spike’s demon emerged, stalked back to Buffy, lifted her over his shoulder and continued to carry her to their destination.

All the while, Buffy could hear him growl under his breath, ‘spoiled brat’ and ‘stupid soddin’ slayer.’ Buffy, who normally would be pissed about this Neanderthal treatment, just smiled and enjoyed the reprieve. As Spike marched into a cemetery, Buffy spoke for the first time, since he’d started to carry her.

“Umm… know this is so not a date, but why a cemetery?” Buffy questioned. Spike stopped mid stride, pulled Buffy from his shoulder and set her on her feet, none too gently.

“Slayer, where shall I take you…your house? My flat, that’s crawling with vamps? Please enlighten me with your suggestions,” Spike snapped.

“Geez, don’t be so rude! Here’s fine. It’s just, um, could maybe we go inside somewhere, I’m kinda cold,” Buffy murmured, her head down, foot running over the dead grass.

“Where the bleedin’ ‘ell is there an inside in a cemetery? Ya know you’re turning out to be more trouble than you’re worth!” Spike growled.

Buffy’s eyes widened as her fist flew and connected with Spike’s nose. After a resounding ‘crack’ she stormed away from him, ranting all the while.

“Stupid vampire! No matter what, all men are alike! Think they can push me around! Well, I’m the fucking Slayer! I’m going to push back a lot harder!”

After the initial stun of her actions, Spike started to run after this fury filled woman. He tried to get close, but stayed just out of striking distance. He’d witnessed her resourcefulness and he didn’t want to be dusty due to his big mouth or carelessness. Once he was close enough he spoke,

“Oi! Slayer, look, we can find some sort of mausoleum or crypt to get you out of the cold. No need to be all pissed. Come on, slow down!” Spike urged.

Buffy abruptly stopped as she faced Spike. Her face was filled with aggravation, and she was slightly flushed. He could hear her heart pound and his eyes became transfixed on her pulse that jumped in time with her rapid breaths. After her loud throat clear, his eyes sought hers.

“That’s all I was asking Mr. Insensitive! Some of us are humans here and the cold gets to us. Hurry up and find a place, or I’m leaving. Well, not before I turn you into dust!” Buffy snapped as she stormed forward and poked her finger in his chest where his undead heart was housed. Spike’s raised his hands in mock salute as he responded,

“Bitchy. Like this side of you Slayer,” Spike stated with a slight grin. As they started to walk Buffy responded,

“Well, get used to it. At the rate you’re going, you’re going to see a lot more of it,” Buffy snickered.

“I suggest that you stop talking dirty Slayer, unless you want to find yourself bent over a headstone being pounded by my stake!” Spike growled, as he stared lustfully at her.

Buffy blushed at his remark. As Spike started to stalk closer to her, a fledgling unexpectedly tackled her.

Buffy and the fledgling rolled around on the frozen ground, Spike casually leaned against a nearby grave marker to enjoy the show. He pulled his cigarettes and trusty Zippo from the inner pocket of his duster and lit up. Dragging lazily on the smoke, he watched the Slayer finally get the upper hand in the fight. As Buffy was engaged in hand to hand with the vamp, she started to land crushing blows with her feet and fists upon him.

Spike instantly became aroused as he intently watched her. “Bloody poetry in motion she is,” Spike mumured to himself.

Suddenly, his demon flashed forward as he released a thunderous growl as a warning to the other vamp. "MINE" Spike rumbled through his ragged teeth. Lightning-quick, he stormed forward and pulled the fledglings head from his neck with a sickening crunch.

As both Spike and Buffy panted, one for her sheer bodily need, the other due to his raging emotions, their gaze held firm on one another. In a flash, their mouths connected as they feasted upon one another. In sync, Spike’s hands supported her as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. They continued to duel for control; their teeth and tongues joined the fray.

Spike walked slowly as he passionately consumed her essence. During the short-lived battle between the Slayer and fledgling, Spike had spotted a crypt nearby. Deftly he carried her towards the small burial chamber. With one forceful kick, the metal door creaked open. Without losing contact with her sweet mouth, Spike looked at the crypt's surroundings. After he slammed the door closed with his foot, he noticed a sarcophagus in the middle of the room. Spike skillfully moved them toward it. Gently, he placed her upon the structure. Her legs unwound from his waist as her thighs shifted and parted to accommodate his muscular body.

With this change of positions, Spike’s hand started to eagerly roam her body. One hand was in her golden tresses as the other slowly worked under her shapeless sweatshirt in search of her tantalizing flesh. As his mouth traveled down her throat, one of her hands found its way to his bleached locks, as she held his mouth to her heated skin. Her other hand grasped his leather-encased shoulder to keep herself steady.

Spike’s vampire visage sprung forward as her pulse called to his demon. When he was ready to slide his fangs into the soft subtle flesh of her throat, Buffy’s Slayer instincts kicked in. Her legs wrapped mercilessly around him, like a vise, as she crushed his body between her powerful thighs. Her hand balled into a fist, as she grabbed his locks. Buffy violently pulled him away from her neck, she growled,

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Spike?” Buffy’s golden eyes flashed momentarily, but immediately receded.

Spike looked stunned by this tiny warrior that held him at bay. After a few moments of studying one another, a feral grin graced his full lips, to reveal a serrated grin.

“Taking what is mine, Slayer!” Spike growled.

“Who says I’m yours?” Buffy argued.

“This does.” Spike suddenly moved his head forward, as he pulled his hair from her grasp. Like a cobra, he struck and ran his raspy tongue over his raised marks. Instantly, Buffy’s legs fell from his waist as her neck bowed to his mouth, as she granted him better access. Spike started to purr from the instant ambrosia that permeated the room that declared her arousal. Spike needed to taste and feel her again. His greedy hands grabbed at her clothes, Buffy regarded him with a hazy gaze. Still in game face, the Slayer screamed at this invasion.

Spike pulled slightly away from her form, so he could pull the offending garment, her pants, down. Instantly, Buffy brought her feet up, placed them on his mid chest and shoved. Spike landed across the room as he crashed into the side of the crypt. Buffy’s tried to regain her bearings as he began to pull himself up. Spike leaned against the wall for support as he growled,

“What the bloody ‘ell was that for?”

“You said you wanted to talk! This is not talking! Unless you want me to silence you permanently, use that mouth of yours for words! Not to seduce me!” Buffy barked.

“Again, you didn’t seem to take issue while you filled the room with your arousal. Any vamp within five miles could smell you! I’m surprised that this place isn’t crawling with them! That scent is almost as heady as blood!” Spike growled as he fought his self-control to go back to her.

“Deal with it!” Buffy snipped.

“I was trying to, until you shoved me away Slayer!” Spike snapped back.

“Look, we are not, not doing that ever again!” Buffy announced.

“Yeah? You think so Slayer? You’ll crave me, like I crave blood. You won’t be able to deny me. I’m your mate!” Spike roared as he began to stalk closer.

“What the hell does that mean?” Buffy questioned. This seeming basic question caught him off guard. His human façade returned as he responded.

“Don’t rightly know. I know of it, but never been through it.”

“I thought you were a vamp? Why don’t you know?” Buffy asked.

“Oi Slayer! We don’t come with a bleedin’ handbook when we’re turned! Not like there’s some vamp university! Didn’t exactly hang with types that wanted that type of commitment. Plus, Dru and I aren’t mated,” Spike explained as he mumbled the last sentence.

“What?”

“I said Dru and I aren’t mated. That was how we could. Despite almost hundred years without her precious daddy, she would never give herself fully to me. A claim can only be done if both parties are willing. It can’t be forced.” Spike explained as he walked closer.

“So you’re saying that I wanted this? You wanted this?” Buffy inquired with a slight cry.

“Oi, Slayer! Sensitive lobes here! Don’t need your dog whistle voice blazing through my noggin, thank you very much. And no I’m not saying that. However, what I know about mating claims, only those that desire that connection can perform it,” Spike stated as he finally reached her. Spike turned and leaned on the tomb next to her.

“So what does this mean? We’re like married or something?” Buffy asked as she slightly turned to face him. After several moments of a hearty laughter, Spike turned to her and responded,

“If a marriage means that we spend the rest of eternity together and if one dies the other might die, then yeah, we’re married,” Spike scoffed.

“What! I’m only 16! This is not the Appalachians, for crying out loud! We have to fix this and fix it like yesterday!” Buffy demanded.

“There is only one way I know of to end a mating claim. One of us dies. Now seeing that it won’t be me and your head on a silver platter for my dark princess will put me back in her good graces looks like it will be you!” Spike growled as his demon emerged once again.

Buffy immediately jumped off the tomb as she raced to the other side of the room in an attempt to find some sort of weapon. As she frantically searched, Spike grabbed her by the hair and violently pulled her back.

Her elbow met sharply with his stomach, and then her fist came straight up, with the knuckles hitting him directly in the face. His nose crunched under the blow. As he let go of her tresses to cup his again broken appendage, Buffy hurried away, as she attempted to reach the door.

Before she could reach the portal, he grabbed her by the waist and swung her back toward the sarcophagus. Spike ran forward, as he attempted to slam her body against the stone. Deftly she moved out from his grasp, right before she collided with the marble. As her body lowered to the ground, Spike crashed into the tomb due to his momentum. Quickly, Buffy tried to crawl away on her hands and knees to escape his grasp.

Rapidly, he recovered from his fall; Spike grabbed her ankle with a sharp jerk. He splayed her into a prone position as he began to drag her form across the filthy floor. Once she reached him, he immediately flipped her, over so she was now supine. Spike straddled her waist. He grabbed her wrists roughly, as he brought them above her head. His fangs descended toward her tender throat. Spike's gaze bore through the Slayer beneath him. What he saw stopped him instantly.

She was crying. The Slayer was crying.

“Slayer, are you crying?” Spike growled.

“No,” Buffy responded as the tears continued to fall.

“It looks like you’re crying. There’s no crying in epic battles!” Spike snapped.

“Whatever! What’s the big deal, I thought you vamps liked your victims unhappy?” Buffy got out between the sobs

“You’re crying because I’m going to kill you?” Spike asked in a surprised tone.

“Well duh! It’s not only that, I’m crying because you’re a liar! You told me that you weren’t going to kill me! Now you’re all grrr with the fangs, and you're going to drain me dry!” Buffy openly bawled as her eyes closed tight as she awaited her fate.

Stunned, by the crying warrior beneath him. Spike was taken back. He was torn. His demon called for the blood of the Slayer, there was no question about that. The conflict laid in the fact she was his mate and his ultimate opponent. One wanted connection, the other wanted death. The claim started to force its will upon him. This was his mate. She was in pain and he was the cause of this pain. This affected him deeply. As his face softened, his demon receded once more.

Spike’s hands released her wrists and slowly brought them to his lips. He placed soft, tender kisses upon them where bruises had started to rise. Buffy’s eyes slowly opened as she felt his mouth on her flesh. His gaze burned into her, as he continued to caress her skin with his tender mouth. Slowly lowering himself to the floor, Spike pulled her shaking form onto his lap. Affectionately he started to wipe the tears from her dampened cheeks as he began to murmur doting words and apologies.


“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m a bad, rude man. I didn’t mean to make you cry. This is all too confusing. My demon is at war with itself. It wants your death and your life. It wants your death because you’re the Slayer. It wants your life because you are its mate. By being its mate, I am completely devoted to you. If I were to destroy you, I would destroy myself,” Spike explained as he continued to bestow soothing touches upon her body.

Buffy was completely speechless. “One minute, I was in serious lip-lock with a man, no a master vampire. Next I was fighting to the death and lost. While I waited for the inevitable said vamp stopped and is now comforting and apologizing for it all. And to top it all off, he called me Sweetheart,” Buffy thought. Her gut twisted with confusion and pain, completely confounded by the entire situation. Pained because her hurt had brought him pain, confusion about everything else. Buffy gently placed her hand tenderly upon his sculpted cheek as she spoke.

“This is confusing for me too. One thing I do know is that you are to never do that to me again because next time I will stake you. Are we clear?” Buffy asked. Her voice was strangely tender, but her gaze held firm and unmistakable.

“Yeah, understood. Look you need to tell your Watcher. Have him research this. There is no way that this has never happened. For thousands of years there have been vampires and Slayers. You can’t tell me that the Romeo and Juliet thing never happened at least once. We both agree this is not the best situation for either of us. If we could break the claim without one of us perishing, it’s a win, win situation. I’ll just have to win Dru back with my manly charms,” Spike explained.

Spike’s mention of Dru cut her deep. Buffy didn’t want to tell him that. She loved Angel, not Spike. Her feelings for Spike were solely based on the claim, nothing more. As she stood from his lap, Buffy spoke,

“Agreed. This is not the best situation for either of us. If we could break the claim without one of us perishing, it’s a win, win situation. I’ll just have to win Dru back with my manly charms,” Spike explained with pride.

“I’ve been gone for hours. I need to get back to the hospital before someone realizes I’m gone and calls my mom. She’ll have a bird if she finds out I’m missing. Ok, I feel good about this. We have a game plan. Break the claim. In the meantime, we just need to stay away from each other. This thing is bigger than both of us. Even though the claim states we need each other, distance should squelch it. Sounds good?” Buffy said as she headed towards the crypt’s door.

As Spike pulled himself from the floor he responded.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan to me. Just get to your Watcher as soon as you can. This needs to be done and fast. You may have some resolve, but I don’t. This claim flows through me fiercer than any blood I’ve consumed. I’ve tasted three Slayers and that’s saying a lot. It won’t be long before I will come for you and make you mine through some serious swapping of bodily fluids,” Spike warned, his eyes twinkled with lust. Buffy’s eyes widened at this.

“On that note, I’m leaving.”

“No wait. Let me walk you back. There’s a city full of beasties out there. I don’t feel like being a big pile of dust because something nasty got a taste of you,” Spike retorted.

“Fine, but stay over there. Not so close. Let’s lessen the temptation,” Buffy stated heading out of the crypt. As she walked away, Spike murmured,

“Not bloody likely.”


Chapter End Notes:
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