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DANCE OF THE MATES


Chapter 11: ‘Surprising Allies’


Spike began to wake up, slowly, he had to be, he figured. The pitch blackness he’d experienced for who knows how long, was now lessening and giving way to a semi-brighter light.

His head was pounding, for whatever reason and he certainly knew it wasn’t because of an alcohol induced hangover. Spike hadn’t drank anything, booze wise, for days. He’d been to busy making love to his wife.

‘Buffy!’ he thought, frantically, ‘where is she!’

Finally, he could open his eyes and realized he was in his own crypt, safe. Well, probably not really safe, but at least he was inside, not exposed to the deadly rays of the sun. Spike sensed that indeed, the sun had risen, some time ago, outside. He also sensed that he was not alone in his crypt.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” came a somewhat familiar, male voice from over on his old, beat up sofa. “This is ‘your’ crypt, right man?” Oz asked with a smirk.

“As if anyone else would live here,” the red-haired wolfboy chuckled slightly.

“How?” Spike groaned out, “or should I ask why” He glanced around the crypt, confirming that it was only he and this Oz bloke there.

“Found you, knocked out, outside on the grass,” Oz motioned to the door of the crypt. “Figured I’d better get you inside, before the sunrise greeted you and you went bye bye.”

“Thanks,” Spike mumbled, grogrily. Then he sat straight up, his eyes wide in fear.

“Buffy! Where’s my Buffy?” he screamed, “who took her and where?”

“Calm it down, friend,” Oz ordered firmly, “I ‘think’ I know where they took Buffy. I ‘know’ who took her and why. But you can’t do anything about it, not just yet, sunlight, remember?”

Spike pulled himself up from the ground and stumbled over to his makeshift fridge. He pulled out some pig’s blood and began to rip the bag open with his teeth. Pausing, he turned to look at his would be savior, who still sat, silently watching Spike.

“Those fucked friends of hers, right?” Spike growled to Oz. “They took my Buffy away, didn’t they?”

Oz eyed Spike, almost warily, taking in the vampire’s furious expression and feeling the anger just radiate off his powerful body. The red-head sighed, then nodded slowly.

“Yes,” Oz confirmed what Spike already knew, “I’m pretty sure it was Giles, Harris and I’m afraid, my girl, too, Willow. Tried to talk them out of this, thought I’d gotten to Wills, but….”

Spike’s blue eyes were narrowed into slits, especially when Oz added, “I think Finn’s with them, too. This whole ‘operation’ of theirs smacks of the Initiative.”

“WHAT!” Spike roared, crushing the bag full of pig’s blood, spewing the contents everywhere.

“If that fucking soldier boy screws around with my wife, I’ll….” Spike growled like an animal.

“No,” Oz shook his head, firmly, “it’s not about that. That much I know. It’s about finding a way to break this claim of yours, between you and Buffy. Like I said,” the usually quiet wolfboy mumbled, “I tried to explain the seriousness of the claim. Make my girl, at least, understand that it’s permenant, unbreakable and mutual. Willow, much as I love her, is a follower. She’s loyal to Buffy, yes, and to me. But she’s loyal to Harris and Giles too, totally dedicated to this ‘slayer’ cause and all.”

“Then how do they expect to break Buffy’s and my claim?” Spike asked, trying to calm down long enough to figure out a plan. “If you told Red that the claim is unbreakable?”

Oz cringed slightly, Spike noticed, “Willow,” he sighed, “she thinks she’s the next Witch of the Year canidate. I guess Giles and Harris, and Finn have talked her into to trying to use magic to break the claim. Some stupid spell or something. Willow even went so far to contact a powerful witch friend of hers, Tara McClay. Don’t worry,” Oz quickly assured Spike, “Tara called me, right after she hung up with Wills. Apparently, Tara McClay understands the nature of demon claims, much more so then my Wills does. She refused to help Willow, or the others.”

Spike flopped down on the old, matching, beat up chair, across from Oz. He buried his head in his hands and groaned loudly. “Then why take Buffy? Where did they take her?”

“I’m guessing that the gang of idiots are going to try some magical spell anyway, themselves. Well, or get my Wills to do it. Harris and Giles have convinced Willow that it’s for the best, as far as Buffy’s concerned. As to where they took Buffy? My guess would be to the Watcher’s place, Giles’ house. After all, ‘you’ have an open invitation into Buffy’s Mother’s home, so…..”

“Bloody hell!” Spike roared again, his temper rearing it’s ugly head. “If they hurt her, I’ll….”

“I don’t think they’ll hurt Buffy, Spike,” Oz assured him quietly, “not on purpose, anyway. But,” the red-haired man paused, thoughtfully, “I also don’t think that any of them, Wills included realize just what they’re doing. I know, as I’m sure you do, that if they keep Buffy and you apart, for any length of time, you’ll both die. I mean ‘really die’ without each other’s companionship.”

Spike gave Oz a surprised look, shocked that the bloke knew so much about vampire claims. As if he could read Spike’s mind, Oz clued him in on some of his own, personal facts.

“I am what I am, Spike,” Oz explained with a shrug. “I am part wolf, well, for a couple of nights a month.” The red-head grinned at the vampire, “being a wolf and occasionally running in a family pack. Yes, Spike, my entire family has this curse, but anyway, I know about wolf/demon lore and traditions. We, wolves that is, bonding claims mean as much to us as they do to vampires. It’s that simple,” Oz shrugged again.

“So, you understand,” Spike whispered, still stunned by Oz’s admission. “About Buffy and me, how much we love and need each other?”

“Completely,” Oz nodded, seriously.

“Willow and me,” Oz continued, “we had a date last night. At least, we were supposed to. She called at the last minute and cancelled, came up with some lame excuse that I saw right through. I stopped by the Summers’ home, realized you two were both gone and figured out you’d gone patroling together. Checked out the two other graveyards in town before I made it here, to yours. I found you, Buffy was already gone.”

“Thanks again, mate,” Spike nodded at Oz, “for saving my arse and trying to help Buffy and me.”

“No problem,” Oz shrugged again, a habit of his, “I understand you and Buffy, your bond, totally. Buffy, she accepted me, right off, even after she found out I myself was part demon. She loves Willow like a sister, so, she took me into the gang, for my girl’s sake. That’s why I want to help you guys, Spike, for Buffy’s sake. To thank her. I know you two love each other.”

“I’ve got to come up with a fucking plan!” Spike stated, rather loudly. “A real genious of a plan to get my baby back,” he lit a cigarette quickly and thought for a moment.

“No offense,” Oz interjected, cautiously, “but I’ve heard that your so called plans don’t work out so well, you know?”

Spike shot Oz an evil grimmace, to which the red-head just shrugged again. “Only bein’ honest man,” Oz responded.

“Of course, you can’t go anywhere, or do anything until sundown, so you might as well kick it and plot all day.” Oz leaned forward on the sofa and scrunched up his own brows. “Thought I’d go take a look see at Giles’ place, make sure I’m right about where the fools took Buffy. Try and find out what they are really up to and how they’re going to break this claim. Or try and break it, anyway. I just can’t seem to get it into any of their thick skulls that a mutual bonding claim is unbreakable, period.”

Oz sighed again and stood up from the sofa. He began to stroll about Spike’s upper crypt and look at things setting about, leaving the vampire to think, in silence.

“Nice guitar, dude,” Oz opined, honestly, scanning the beautiful instrument on a dusty, mangled looking table.

“No way!” Oz suddenly yelped, excitedly, “no fucking way!”

He turned to Spike, who had jumped up from the chair, momentarily stunned by Oz’s loud outburst.

“Is this really Eric Clapton’s autograph on this guitar?” Oz asked excitedly, pointing to the name written on the back.

“Yeah,” Spike responded, sheepishly, “met him in London. Years ago, back in the 70’s actually. Admired him and all. And before you ask, yes, Clapton gave me that guitar, believe it or not. Of course, he’s pretty astute, old Eric, realized I was a vampire right off.”

Oz grinned and set the guitar back on the table, reverently.

“There is something to be said for being around in ‘unlife’ for so many years, huh?” Oz chuckled and turned to leave the crypt.

“I’ll get back to you, soon,” the wolfboy nodded at Spike. “Please, man, just sit tight, really. You won’t do Buffy or yourself any good if you take off, run out into the sunlight and dust yourself. Tonight, I’ll be back here, go with you to Giles house. I just hope all this won’t be necessary. I hope I’ve talked some sense into my Wills before that.”

With that, Oz left Spike alone in his crypt. Spike flopped back down on his sofa, feeling completely alone and helpless.

“I’ll find you baby,” he mumbled to the empty, dank air about him. “And when I rescue you, my sweet,” he continued with a growl, “I’ll fucking rip those bastards’ throats out, the ones that took you. Chip or no chip.”




Buffy had been awake for at least an hour or nearly two. When she woke up, she immediately recognized her Watcher’s guest bedroom. However, she did not recognize the ropes and chains that held her, securely, tied to the four poster bed.

“God dammit!” Buffy had howled, angrily as she pulled at the ropes and chains. “I’m gonna’ so kill them, all of them for this,” she hissed loudly.

“Buff?” came Willow’s timid voice from the bedroom door. “You okay?”

Buffy gave her so called ‘best friend’ an angry glare. “Hardly, Willow,” she hissed at the red-head, “but I could be okay. Just undo these ropes and take whatever mumbo jumbo spell you’ve concocted on me. In other words, Wills…..get me the fuck out of here!”

Willow, to her credit, began to cry, softly. “I, I can’t, Buff,” she stuttered nervously. “Giles and Xander say this is for the best. For you, Buff. They told me that I’m only helping you break free of Spike’s thrall over you. I only want to help you, sweetie, honest.”

Buffy slammed her head back on the pillow below it, growling in frustration. She thought for a moment, then finally responded to Willow.

“I am not under some thrall of Spike’s,” she hissed at Willow. “I’m bonded to him, happily. Spike and me, we are married, Wills. Married to each other! Why the hell can’t you nut jobs get that?”

“Because it’s not true,” came Riley’s voice from the bedroom door. “It can’t be, baby,” he whined as he joined Willow at Buffy’s bedside.

“So do not call me ‘baby’ Riley,” Buffy growled at Riley this time. “I’m not your baby. I’m Spike’s ‘baby’ and always will be. He’s my mate and…..”

Riley smirked, smugly, “don’t think so, Buff,” he looked straight at her. “By now, lover boy is burnt toast, outside of his own crypt. He’ll learn to take my girl from me and…..”

Buffy tried to sit straight up again, pulling desperately at the chains on her arms and legs.

‘It’s not true,’ Buffy assured herself, frantically. ‘If my mate was dead, or dead again, that is, I’d know it. Feel it.”

The Slayer smiled, oddly, realizing that her mate, William the Bloody, was indeed still unalive and safe, for the moment that is.

Buffy turned her hateful glare back at both Riley and Willow, she nearly bared her teeth at these two so called friends of hers.

“When I get out of here,” she began with a low, gutteral growl, “when Spike and me are reunited?” Buffy grinned, pretty evilly for a ‘Chosen’ one, that is. “I am so going to kick all of your respective asses,” Buffy continued with her threat. “This isn’t a threat kids,” she hissed, using one of Spike’s patent smirks. “For me and my mate, Spike. Consider this a promise.”


A/N: Quick chapter, somewhat. Wanted to bring Oz back into the mix and reveal his purpose in the fic. Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf





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