Spike stared at Buffy's sleeping form with an intense gaze after everyone left. He wasn't sure how long he sat by her side on the bed, but the fire in the corner of the room now burned low and the candles that littered the room had wax melting in piles at their bases.
There was a dark mark forming on her temple where he had delivered the blow that had knocked her unconscious and with soft hands he reached out and swept the hair from her face. Buffy flinched in her sleep, her features scrunching as his hands touched her bruise.
Spike trailed his eyes over her still body from the bloodied nightgown that covered her torso to where it was bunched in a tangled in a ripped mess at her waist. Her red hip stood out against the contrast of the white gown she wore and the crimson sheets she lay on. Droplets of blood had started to pool where she had scratched her nails in deep trying to escape her pain.
Pain that Drusilla had caused her.
Pain that she would continue to feel if the mark wasn't challenged and broken.
His demon growled as his hands grasped her smaller ones in his own and brushed across the now drying blood on her knuckles and fingers, Giles words still fresh in his mind.
"If you seriously want a chance at killing Angelus then she's they key. Right now Drusilla has her claws in deep-"
His brows furrowed as Buffy's lips quivered and her body shuddered, her own eyebrows forming a frown as she let out a whimper of pain. He was torn.
On one hand he said to hell with it. Why shouldn't he just take her to Angelus and offer up as a swap, prophecy be damned. It was Buffy for Drusilla. His dark princess would be back with him. He let out a defeated sigh as he realized that Drusilla would still be mated to the poof.
Mated.
Not a word within the vampire community that was taken lightly. When a vampire took another as his mate they became connected eternally. A bonding and molding of two demons becoming one. Spike had spent over one hundred years asking and trying to claim Drusilla as his, but she never accepted his bite.
Spikes demon didn't seem to protest at the prospect of taking Buffy as his mate, but he still was hesitant. No vampire had ever claimed and mated a human before, let alone one from the chosen bloodline.
"Bloody unheard of." he mumbled, running a hand down his face and pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.
His heart would always belong to his dark princess, but staring at the slumbering form of Buffy as she slept he couldn't help the pull he felt towards her. There was something about her that was different, sure her blood was intoxicating and she was obviously the one the prophecy said would bring into this world a being of great strength. Prophecy aside, Buffy was still strong and would no doubt be a key element when in came to killing Angelus.
Without Buffy's knowing Drusilla could control her. At any point in time and from any amount of distance. It was a weakness Spike couldn't have in his house, not when he knew how valuable Buffy was to Angelus. Drusilla was plaguing Buffy's mind with nightmares, calling her forth and Buffy was struggling to hold off her tormentor. If he really did what Giles suggested there would be no turning back. If he broke the claim his sire had over her, then Buffy would be his.
Spike stared at Buffy's soft round features with a scrutinizing gaze. In her sleep she seemed so innocent, nothing like the charged up fighter he knew she was. Without realizing it he moved down the bed and laid his head on her belly, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart as she slumbered. He reached out a hand and trailed it across her still warm hip and his demon purred at the way her heart skipped a few beats.
Spike breathed in her scent, blood, sweat, tears and a hint of vanilla coated her skin. He closed his eyes, hands unconsciously left trailing across her hip. God she had such soft skin. The steady beating of Buffy's heart and the warmth her body was washing over him like a blanket as he nuzzled into her stomach had his eyes closing, his hand still trailing small circles across the bite mark on her hip.
Yes, he decided before he too succumbed to sleep. Buffy would be his. He would break the hold Drusilla had over her and claim her as his.
His mate.
His equal.
Together they would destroy Angelus.
...........................................................................................................
Giles had been awake for hours, unable to fall back asleep after Spike had yelled at him to get out of Buffy's room. He had wandered back to the library and sat at his desk with the parchments strewn out in front of him, his own words echoed in his head.
"If you seriously want a chance at killing Angelus then she's they key."
Buffy was the key to finally killing Angelus, but there was something about the prophecy that was bothering him. Something was missing and he knew the answer was somewhere in Hank's scribbles.
"Into every generation a Chosen One is born. She alone will bring forth one that possesses the strength of both chosen and immortal. She is the beginning and the end. She is the Slayer."
He ripped the glasses from his face and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on and he let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. The glow from the morning sun was slowly beginning to peak in through the library's large windows and he was thankful for the little warmth that it offered him.
He took another deep breath and mentally prepared himself to once again pour over the parchments in front of him. He had managed to separate them into three different piles. Those written in Latin and directly relating to the main text sat at the top of the pile, the prophecy itself outlining 'The Becoming.' The next pile he couldn't seem to link to the prophecy at all, being texts about vampire lineage and the two fighting covens. The third pile consisted of all Hanks notes, handwritten in his rushed scrawl that Giles knew he too himself did when he got so excited about deciphering a text that his hands often ran away with him.
However, the parchment sitting on the top of the pile stood out among the rest. It was written in Hank's writing this much he was sure of, but instead of a rushed scrawl these words were specifically placed, almost laid out like one would poetry.
"Isn't she golden,
Shining in the light
Drops are scattered by the harvest of gold
Passing through like morning sun
A waiting to be cast along
Sowing the grain
Fields of the same
Plant to grow
The deed is done."
"Blast it!" It didn't make a lick of sense and with a frustrated puff of air Giles once again tore his glasses off his face and stood up. He needed some fresh air, knowing that sometimes if you were too close to a situation or problem you weren't able to solve it was best to take a step back and look at if from another perspective.
Thinking outside the box as it were.
[Reviews - 26]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1141 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry again for taking a while to post. I haven't been myself since my dog passed away :(
Chapter End Notes:
Short chapter to bring you into your hump day wednesday :)