Spike emerged from the shadows in that way where it seemed that he had materialized from the night itself. He stood there an apparition of white skin cloaked in black. The moonlight glinted off his sharp cheekbones and his hair shone in the cool night air.

Angel’s game face, which had been hiding beneath the surface waiting to come out, came to the forefront with the arrival of his child. Spike had taken what had been his. How dare he?! Every demon in Sunnydale knew that the slayer belonged to him! Even without the mark they knew. And now to be usurped.

And by his childe no less. The demon inside him raged at this. First he had betrayed him the year before, a move that was unheard of in vampire history, at least among reputable vamps, and now Spike had gone further to affront him. Angel thought that he might kill his wayward childe right there and take the claim by right.

Spike seemed to sense the older vampire’s feelings. He smirked at him but nevertheless shifted a bit so that he would be able to spring into action faster if the need arise. He knew his sire was not above attacking him to get the slayer. But he also knew that he could beat his sire; the blood that he had drank the night before was still rushing through his viens and the claiming bond gave him extra strength. There was no way Angel could beat him now. He wondered if Angel knew that himself.

He wasn’t surprised that Angel was unable to touch the slayer at all. The claim worked so that anyone who touched his slayer with more than friendly thoughts would be subject to custom. Vampires that broke custom were hunted down and killed without mercy. Although Angel was ensouled, he had never blatantly gone back on custom except when he had killed his sire and helped in the destruction of the Master and these were overlooked due to the existence of his soul, which some believed to be driving him insane, and that the master was becoming very unpopular to many vampires..

To poach on someone else’s claim was a serious offense. Even his soul would not excuse him from punishment and he knew it. Vampires were creatures of honor, they respected each other’s territory and rights. Those that didn’t were disposed of to prevent chaos. The customs had been set up a thousand years before during the dark ages when vampires were fighting wars over territory and feeding. Their wars had wiped out small villages and nearly starved them. From then every vampire had to swear to respect the territories and hunting rights of every other in order to preserve the peace. Those that had broken that vow since had been captured and tortured.

Buffy was in agony. Not twenty feet away was Spike, who she knew could calm the raging inferno beneath her skin. She had felt the need for him all day and had felt her body call and beg for him. There he was, and though she hated him she needed him. So while her mind was screaming at her to kill him her body wanted desperately to fall into his arms.

All day she had felt this. She had been distracted during class and with Giles later as he tried to research what was happening to her. Of course he hadn’t found anything useful, the books on vampires that he had were extremely limited. Apparently the council didn’t know much about them aside from the obvious. He was still there now, trying to sort through all his books tr to to find some reference to rituals involving bites.

Spike knew what she was feeling, he could sense it. He had not completed the claim yet, she would feel that yearning until he did. But he wouldn’t do that, not yet. He would have patience, something he was not good at he admitted to himself, and bring her slowly into his claim. He felt the burn for her as well, if not as strongly as she felt for him. He was the one who held the cards, that was the way the claim worked. Self-preservation for the vampire.

Angel growled and Spike returned his gaze to his wayward grandsire. “Peaches, so good of you to look after her. I really appreciate it mate.”

Angel nearly barked out his answer with his rage, “Spike, you bastard.”

Spike cocked his head to the side with feigned ignorance, “Something bothering you, you’re lookin’ somewhat tense.”

“You know damn well what’s wrong. You took my mate!”

Spike’s anger rose within him but he was able to keep it in check, “YOUR mate? I see no mark on her and your scent on her is not strong enough to be recognized by some.” His voice lowered dangerously, “I don’t bloody well care what arrangement you’ve set up with the local community, the laws still apply. You didn’t claim her. She’s mine.”

Angel lunged at the younger vampire, his anger finally boiling over. Buffy was his, dammit, and no one was taking her away from him.

Spike sidestepped his sire easily. He waited as Angel regained his footing as Angel came back at him with a right hook aimed at his jaw. Spike ducked only to get the left in his gut. Angel’s success was short-lived as Spike recovered with his own jab to his nose. For a short time the two fought, Angel attacking and Spike dodging easily while landing a few blows of his own. Finally Spike got tired of beating on Angel and dodged a hard punch from his sire, putting him behind his sire with his hands on Angel’s head, ready to rip it off.

From the sidelines Buffy yelled, “STOP!” She didn’t want to see Angel dust. She would feel so guilty, having just brought him from hell only to send him back so quickly. She would have said something earlier, but she was overwhelmed that these two men were fighting over her.

Spike looked over at the woman sitting on the stone who wore his mark. He wanted nothing more than to tear off his sire’s arrogant head and send him into oblivion. But the look on the Slayer’s faceld bld be devastating. He nodded and let go of Angel’s head, taking a step back as his sire fell to the ground, pride hurt more than his body.

Spike stepped back as Angel stood up. Angel was conflicted, it was unusual for him to lose a fight and when he did he usually ran. But now his desire to protect Buffy was conflicting with his urge to leave. He looked over at her, still sitting on the tombstone, looking very conflicted herself.

Spike saw the look in his sire’s eyes, knowing what he was thinking. He had spent a great deal of Angelus in his early years, and knew his habits. Of course he knew that his sire was getting ready to flee, or was thinking about it. He would have laughed at the situation, but the thought that Angel thought that he would hurt Buffy angered him. “Don’t worry, Peaches, you can leave. I won’t hurt my mate.” He smirked, “Well, almost my mate.”

Angel growled, “I’m not leg yog you alone with her.”

Spike cocked his head to the side, “Oh really? Still whipped, huh?” He paused for a moment before continuing, “You can’t keep me from her forever. She’s mine.”

Buffy was getting pissed. She hated when people talked as if she wasn’t in the room, “You don’t own me, Spike. I don’t belong to anyone!”

Spike chuckled, “Come here, luv.”

Buffy felt her body responding. As if they had a will of their own, her arms pushed her up and she walked towards him. She had no other thought than to GO TO SPIKE. She walked up to him until she was less than a foot away where she stopped, looking up at him.

Spike was pleased with her obedience. He reached a hand out and brushed a hair behind her ear, letting the back of his hand trace a path down the side of her face over her chin, while his other arm wrapped around her waist. Her skin tingled in the wake of his hand, as if he had set sparks beneath her skin. The chaos within her calmed somewhat with his touch.

His hand came to rest on the side of her face and she unconsciously leaned into in. He lowered his mouth until it was next to her ear and his voice was low, “It appears that you do belong to me. Your body at least knows it.”

Her anger rose at that. No one owned her, no matter what her body said. Finding some will power deep inside her she put her hands against his chest and pushed. He sensed what she was about to do and released her, wingwing her to leave his embrace.

Immediately after he let go the feeling of emptiness returned to her, so strong that she almost wanted to return to his arms just to make this feeling of loneliness leave. She didn’t though, she needed to be strong. She backed up a few steps to show her resolve. She needed to show him that he had no effect on her, or to pretend it.

Angel had watched the entire display with anger. It had infuriated him, but he was unable to do anything about it. He knew that once given a command, the claimed human could do nothing but obey, doing everything in their power to do so. And to try and stop her would be a major breach of Spike’s rights, and he wasn’t about to risk being hunted by every vampire on earth for it.

Spike looked at the woman over whom he held his claim. He saw her attempts to defy his authority, smiling gently. She was so beautiful, so powerful. He knew that her body must be protesting her actions but she persevered in her stubbornness all the more. It was adorable, “I will come for you, Buffy. You’re mine and eventually you will accept that.”

She shouted back at him, “Never, Spike.”

He chuckled softly, “I’ll be coming to see you and your friends tomorrow, pet. I suggest you go and tell them that. I’ll be explaining my claim then.” Then all of a sudden he was less than a foot away from her, running his hand down her face to cup her chin “‘Till then, luv.”

He disappeared back into the night as suddenly as he appeared. Buffy stood there, still in turmoil. Her body craved his touch and the few moments in his arms had been the only time in the last twenty-four hours when she had been at peace. She could have wept.

Behind her she heard Angel growling and turned to look. His eyes were focused on the spot where Spike had stood just a moment ago. He was growling softly and his eyes were golden as he had reverted to his game face at some point.

“Angel, you OK?”

Angel couldn’t look at her, “I should have challenged him. I should have tried.” He turned around so his back was to her, “Dammit! How could I have underestimated him again!”

Buffy slowly approached his back, “Angel, are you ok?”

His shoulders sagged and he sighed, “Buffy, I failed you. I couldn’t beat him, I couldn’t protect you.”

“You didn’t fail me. There was nothing you could do, my blood is making him stronger still. I don’t need you to protect me. I’m strong, I’ll deal with it.”

He spun to face her, his eyes blazing, “You can’t fight him! You saw how he controlled you, one command and he could make you do whatever he wants! You’re completely defenseless against that.” He let his frustration flow out. He needed the anger, he embraced it. Anger was the only thing that was keeping back the tears.

Buffy saw beneath his anger, how close he was to tears and it broke her heart. “I know. There’s nothing we can do though.” She sighed, “We better go tell Giles. I’m not sure if Spike was serious, but we better be prepared in case he does come.” She turned towards the entrance of the cemetery, “You coming?”

“Don’t blow this off! This isn’t some joke!”

Buffy spun around, “You think I don’t know that?!? I know that better than you think! I can feel him, under my skin. I feel this need for him. I know this isn’t some game, or a nightmare I’m going to wake up from. I know how serious it is. But there’s no use fighting it. He holds all the cards here. So let’s deal with the problems we can, and for that we need to go tell Giles.”

She turned and stomped off towards the entrance of the cemetery and the school, Angel following glumly behind her. She was right, he knew. But it didn’t ease his hurt pride. He had wanted the Slayer to be his, had already started on the search for a way to anchor his soul.

He had planned it all out. There was a shaman in Africa who he heard was an expert on soul restoration and all that. He had planned to visit him after Faith returned to town and the problems with Mr. Trick had been taken care of. He had planned to anchor down his soul. When that was done he had planned to ask Buffy to accept his claim.

Now that would never happen. Unless Spike was willing to transfer the claim, there was no way that Buffy would ever be his. Spike had killed two Slayers, and his strength had been increased by those kills. There was no way that Angel could win if he formally challenged him. All that would result in was getting him killed. And although he didn’t like the situation, he would still didn’t look forward to returning to hell any time soon.

And so the two figures stalked through the night, two silent predators weary of the fight. They walked with their heads high throughout all trials, taking it all with the resolve of a tin soldier, trying not to show how each blow would weaken them.

From the side the third warrior watched, his expression blank. He didn’t know what was coming and he braced himself for the next day. He had made a choice when he claimed the Slayer, and he had no intention of going back on it. He couldn’t if he wanted to. The claim tied them to each other for eternity.

Sighing he returned to the house where he had taken up residence. He took out a bag of blood from the fridge and drained it before stripping down and falling into bed. Tomorrow would be trying, and he needed to be ready.