Beta'd by dawnofme.

---

Listening to Spike; yeah, that was a great idea.

Admitting to herself that she and Angel could never be just friends and that they should stay away from each other might have been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. She shook her head and wiped her tears quickly in frustration. She had just left the mansion, thankful and yet disappointed that Angel didn’t follow her. She had half a mind to run all the way back, but she knew that what she’d decided was for the best. She really didn’t know what was going to happen now. All she knew was that she wanted to get drunk – no, she needed to get drunk.

And she knew just the place.

She wasn’t of the legal drinking age yet, and the Bronze would be of no good. But she could beat the hell out of Willy if he didn’t give her some booze.

So that was the plan: force Willy to give her booze, get really drunk, get home without a problem and hopefully pass out in the safe confines of the house.


+~+~+~+~+


Seeing how Buffy loved the Poof no matter what he did, Spike realized that Drusilla didn’t really love him. Never had, never would. If she did, she would have accepted who he was, what he was, and she wouldn’t have gone on cheating on him, most especially with a chaos demon.

Love is a funny thing – it makes you bonkers.

She was the face of his salvation. He was the face of her greatest shag; that is, if you chose to believe that Angelus never existed.

Although it may have been his fault, declaring a truce with the enemy and all, he was still the same old Spike. He was still evil and no amount of talking to the Slayer could change that.

It was just that the Slayer was different. There was something about her… And no, it wasn’t her bouncy shampoo commercial hair or her delectable arse…nal. Arsenal. Weaponry. Right.

As much as it made him queasy to admit, he kind of enjoyed the little time that they’d shared during the truce.

He also really liked Joyce.

He sat in the driver’s seat of his parked Desoto, eyes puffed and cheeks stained with tears. God, he needed a drink, a kill or two, and hopefully peace and quiet.

And he knew just the place.


+~+~+~+~+


The door was ajar and Buffy could already hear faint voices inside which made her want to leave. But, being the ever stubborn Slayer that she was, she pushed the door open and entered with a brave and ‘do-not-dare-touch me’ expression.

When every demon in Willy’s bar became silent, Spike turned towards the door and saw none other than the Slayer standing there. Spike turned back to his drink, closed his eyes and groaned. “No bloody escape,” he murmured.

Buffy shifted nervously as she felt the murderous glares of the demons. Great. Another brilliant idea, Buffy. But there was no turning back. She was already there and she badly needed that drink.

She swallowed hard and tried to calm herself down before walking over, chin up, to the bar where the vampire sat. “What are you still doing here? Thought you were going to finally leave town? Poor Spikey, scared Drusilla won’t take you back?” she mocked him, folding her arms across her chest and grinning smugly.

He frowned and narrowed his eyes at her. “I just… Mind your own bleedin’ business!” He then mumbled curses to himself before finishing his drink in one big gulp. He eyed the Slayer as she sat down beside him and ordered – or more like threatened Willy for – something to drink. “What are you doing here?”

“Mind your own bleeding business,” she mimicked him, in the worst British accent Spike has ever heard. Spike just shrugged and took a sip of his refilled glass.

After about thirty minutes of drinking hard liquor silently, completely ignoring each other, Buffy spoke up again, her words now slurred. She wasn't much of a drinker and only after a few shots, she was already drunk. “This is your fault! You and your stupid perceptiveness! Can’t you be a normal villain and not ruin my relationships? Try to kill me! Try to kill anyone! Just don’t be all speechify-y!”

Spike turned to the Slayer, not as drunk as she was but drunk enough that he was slurring his words too. “First off, relationships? You only have one, pet, one. If you even call that a relationship.” He snorted and emphasized by doing air quotes. “Secondly, I don’t give a damn,” he shouted right at her.

Still face to face with Spike, Buffy grimaced as if she was about to cry. And then she did. Spike rolled his eyes as Buffy leaned her forehead on her forearms that were crossed over the counter. Buffy was wailing and sobbing so loudly that everything in the bar turned to stare at them.

Spike looked around, embarrassed when he saw that all eyes were on them. “She’s not with me,” he chuckled uncomfortably and then turned back to his drink. “Stupid bint,” he mumbled, taking a sip and glancing at her at the corner of his eye.

“I love him sooo much,” she hiccupped. “Vampires are stupid,” she said as she brought her head up and sniffled, rubbing her nose with her wrist.

“Oh, God,” Spike said with a frown and groaned again as he watched the Slayer act whiny. “If you’re going to make me listen to you all bloody night then you better buy me more alcohol.”

Buffy stared at him, hiccupped and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “Okay.”


+~+~+~+~+

“So I’m strolling through the park, right, looking for something to eat, and I happen to walk by and see she’s making out with a chaos demon!” Buffy nodded and listened intently, probably because she was already drunk. “A chaos demon! Can you believe that?” Buffy answered him with a vigorous shaking of her head. “She only did it to hurt me, you know. And so I said, ‘I’m not putting up with this anymore.’ And she said, ‘Fine!’ And I said, ‘Fine! Do whatever you like! I have an unlife, you know!’”

“Go. You! We need to be strong. W-we’ll find someone else!” Buffy exclaimed, gesturing with a bottle of beer in hand, making it spill all over her blouse and the counter.

“And then she said we could still be friends. I thought we were going to make up,” Spike continued and sniffled.

“I’m stupid, aren’t I?” Buffy whimpered out of the blue while staring out into space wistfully, her face scrunched up as if she was about to cry again. And she did. Loudly. Again.


+~+~+~+~+


“Mmm, bed,” she sighed, lying face-down on the bed, arms tucked under her chest. Spike lay beside her, arms folded over his stomach and eyes closed. He then mumbled a few incoherent words which apparently were supposed to be a response. Buffy then propped herself up on her elbows and stared at Spike as much as she could without seeing double. “You know, you’re kinda hot,” she slurred.

Spike opened his eyes and glanced at her, eyeing her for a moment to look for a hint that she was joking. Clearly, all three of her weren’t. He was too drunk to see clearly and she was too drunk to kid around.

“Same to you, Slayer,” he replied, to which Buffy answered with a huge lopsided smile.

Spike had enough of the obvious sexual tension between them. Although he’d ignored it before, when he wasn’t drunk, he knew it was there. He’d always wanted the Slayer anyway; right from the moment he laid his eyes on her at the Bronze, all innocently sexy.

He grabbed the back of her neck, pulled her forward and put her lips to his for a kiss. Expecting her to turn away, he pulled back first. But instead of the disgusted face he had anticipated, he saw that her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly parted, as if she wasn’t repulsed by it, as if she enjoyed it – wanted it, even.

He shifted farther from her, fearing that her nonexistent inhibitions – since it had flown out of the window along with her sobriety – and his really painful hard on would lead to things they’d probably regret. Make that ‘she’d regret’.

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and then she vaguely saw the stunned, if not freaked out, expression on Spike’s face.

She had enough of doing the right thing. She’d always wanted him anyway, right from the moment she saw him in the alley by the Bronze. And it was obvious that he wanted her too. She wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t figure that out.

She clumsily moved on top of Spike’s tense body, settling her legs on either side of him and poising her hot center over his jean covered growing desire. She then slowly pulled off her top with an innocent look on her face, revealing her breasts which he stared at in awe even with heavy-lidded eyes.

She gave a light yelp when he hurriedly pulled her down and kissed her, hands caressing her bare chest and hips bucking up to press himself further into her even though she was already grinding hard against him.

“This is weird,” she giggled as Spike rolled them over, settling on top of her between her legs, kissing her fiercely and hands still exploring her body.

“Shut your gob,” he slurred. His cool hand traveled to the button of her pants, which he fumbled with to try and unbutton it, but to no avail. “Bloody--help me out here, will you?”

“I can’t move my arms,” she whined through her heavy breathing. “Too tired.”

“You’re not tired. You’re drunk,” he huffed, finally kneeling before her to get a better look at what he was doing.


+~+~+~+~+


Buffy stopped, sat up and stared at Spike in surprise. “Did you just growl?”

Spike’s eyes, which were screwed shut as he enjoyed the feel of Buffy riding and squeezing the life – or unlife – out of him even though she could barely hold herself up, immediately opened. “I did not!”

Buffy bit her lip innocently, a flirtatious smile on her face, and then squeezed her inner muscles, eliciting another low growl from Spike. “You so did.”


+~+~+~+~+


“Mine,” he rasped before sinking his fangs into the soft, delicate spot on her neck, still thrusting into her though more gently than before.

“Yours. Yours,” she whispered over and over. “You… Mine,” she then said unexpectedly before biting him on his jugular with blunt teeth, hard enough that it bled.

With each others’ blood swirling in their mouths, both came, waves of pure ecstasy washing over them.


+~+~+~+~+


Buffy sat up in a jolt, clutching the covers over her chest and then holding her head from the throbbing headache she had woken up to. Not only did she notice the headache, but also the soreness in all the right places and the vampire who lay beside her. In bed. Naked.

“Crap!” she mouthed, panic and disgust evident on her features when she thought of the things that could have happened. She hit her forehead with her palm a few times in hopes that it would jog her memory of how they ended up in the factory doing what it seemed like they had done.

Please let this be a nightmare.

She pulled the covers from her body to peek at her nakedness, confirming that they did do what she thought they’d done.

“Crap!” she mouthed again, glancing over at Spike and feeling like she was going to heave. “This is not good.” She panicked as she got up and scanned the place for her discarded clothes. “So not good.”

She saw a piece of cloth, held it up and recognized it. It was her lace panties; her new, expensive, now torn lace panties. “Wow,” she whispered and cocked a brow. It must have been one hell of a torrid, passionate night of sex if… What? No! What am I thinking? No. Not passionate. Sex bad. Very bad! She then threw the torn fabric to the floor in a fit of frustration before stomping on it a couple of times.

When she felt Spike stir, she spun around and was relieved to see that he had not woken up. She began to get dressed with the only pieces of clothing she had found that weren’t ripped apart: her pants and her top. Spike will leave Sunnydale soon and I could just forget this ever happened, she thought. She then hurriedly got out of the wrecked building.

A broken heart and alcohol: not mix-y.

It was official: the Powers That Be hated her.

Not only had she had drunken sex, but she’d had it with a vampire. Worse, she’d had drunken sex with Spike. No amount of bathing could rid her of him or the fuzzy images in her mind. She still wasn’t sure if they were of what had really happened or if she’d just imagined them, since she could only vaguely remember what actually went on.

She let the darts of warm water hit her, wash over her, and hopefully wash away the smell of Spike that certainly lingered on her skin. She didn’t want a certain broody vampire to smell him on her. Suddenly, she felt a tingling sensation on her neck. Her hand flew to it, examining the cause of the sting, and then she felt something resembling a bite mark.

It must have been a dream, or a nightmare. It definitely had been a nightmare. That or she was going insane.

She stumbled out of the shower, slipping and knocking over the can of hair spray and her toothbrush into the sink. She hurriedly wiped the mist off the mirror and quickly lifted herself up on her toes to look at what was on her neck.

Oh my God.


+~+~+~+~+~+


“I’m never drinking ever again,” she mumbled contemptuously to herself as she descended the factory stairs, being careful not to step into the hole that Cordelia had fallen into. “Stupid vampire,” she muttered again as she watched Spike sleep. He seemed different though; less annoying definitely. It most certainly had something to do with him lying there all peaceful. Spike? Peaceful? She had definitely gone insane. She glanced around, searching for something to poke him with, but then settled for the scrap of wood right beside her foot. She picked it up and haphazardly threw it at him, hitting him right on the side of the head.

Spike woke up with a jolt, sitting up quickly. “Too fast,” he grunted while he held his head in pain. He couldn’t remember when he had last been this drunk. He had been so busy chatting with the Slayer that he hadn’t even noticed how much he had drunk. Not that talking to her was interesting.

Buffy stood a few feet from the foot of the bed, knowing exactly what lay under the covers. The thought alone gave her shivers; what more could she make out through the thin fabric draped over him?

“What the hell did you do to me?” she shouted, forcing herself to feel something other than the tingly sensations she was getting from seeing Spike almost nude.

Spike glanced up at Buffy, who he had just noticed. She had her arms folded across her chest and was tapping her foot impatiently. “What?” He had barely coped with his splitting headache, and now the Slayer was asking him questions that he had no idea how and what to answer.

“I said, what the hell did you do to me?” she gritted.

As if repeating the question angrily would make me have a bleedin’ answer, thought Spike.

“You’re the one bursting in here and waking me up from my much needed shut eye.”

“You bit me,” she stated in a softer voice. It clearly wasn’t a question, though.

Spike couldn’t remember biting her or doing anything to her for that matter, only that they went back to the factory, said a few silly things and then might have had sex – which was impossible. He must have been hallucinating or dreaming. Now he truly regretted not offing her when he’d had the chance because she was annoying the hell out of him.

“If I did, you wouldn’t be talking to me, now would you? You’d be dead.”

“But you did,” she insisted. She walked closer to the bed and pulled her hair back, exposing her neck to him. He could see her jugular throbbing as blood was pumped through it and if he hadn’t bitten her, he sure would have wanted to now. But she was right. On her very succulent neck was a bite mark. “See?” she asked, her voice waning from worry.

There were tons of other explanations though and it wasn’t necessarily his bite mark. For one, the Poof might have been the one to bite her. Two… So there was one other explanation. “Are you sure it was me ‘cause-”

“It’s you, okay! It’s fresh.”

She sighed with exasperation, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. She’d been too worried from the minute she woke up that morning to even notice her throbbing head. But Spike and his usual annoyingness reminded her that she was hung over.

“Don’t get testy, Slayer. I barely recall anything that happened after we left Willy’s.” He shifted to the side of the bed, drawing the covers back and exposing his nudity. Buffy immediately shifted her gaze to the ceiling. As much as she wondered how Spike looked naked, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Spike’s nostrils flared when a scent not his own filled him. He hurriedly stood up and pulled on his pants. “Did we…” he started and Buffy glanced back at him, thankful that he’d already put his pants on. When she shifted nervously and averted her eyes, her usual snappy comeback missing, he knew that what he was thinking was right.

“Oh, bloody Hell!”

“It’s not like I wanted it to happen,” she quickly defended.

“Not like I wanted it either!” He turned to the bed to get his shirt and grumbled, “Now I have to scrub extra hard to get your Slayer juices off me.”

“You’re a pig, Sp--what’s that?”

“What's what?”

She moved closer to him and slapped him a bit to make him move his head to the other side so she could have a better look at the right side of his neck. She bit her lip as she tried not to smile when Spike growled at her gesture. “It's a bite mark,” she squinted. “Doesn't look like a vamp did it. Seems like human teeth.” She shrugged nonchalantly and pulled back to see Spike’s jaw-dropped expression.

“Did you do it?”

She grimaced and though the thought of biting during sex would be sort of kinky for her, it was still gross. “Gross, Spike! Why would I bite you?”

“Bloody Hell,” he muttered.


+~+~+~+~+~+


Buffy sat at the edge of the bed, her elbows propped up on her thighs and her face buried in her palms. Spike sat beside her, looking as worried and disgusted as she was, though both of them seemed to be less disgusted than they should be.

“It’s called a claim,” he started and paused when he heard a muffled ‘Oh, God’ from Buffy. “I haven’t even explained what it is yet.”

She brought her head up to face him. “Yeah but ‘you’, ‘me’ and ‘claim’ in the same sentence? Doesn’t sound too good,” she said and then propped her chin on her elbows again.

“It’s like a marriage,” he continued, completely ignoring her. “I don't know much about it since I've obviously never done it before.” Buffy turned her head to face Spike at the sound of his bitter tone. She wanted to ask why he’d never done it to Dru when they’d been together for over a century. But realizing that such serious conversations could lead to a sort of closeness between them, much like when they had been drinking, she knew the smart thing to do was fix their problem and distance herself from Spike before things got out of hand again.

She jumped up abruptly, startling Spike. “I have to tell Giles.”

He stood up, placed his hands on his hips and took a few steps forward so that he was face to face with Buffy. He was close. Too close, Buffy thought.

“You're not telling anyone, missy! My reputation is on the line here.”

The only thing that Buffy was wondering about while Spike yammered on about why she shouldn’t tell anyone was how it must have felt to have sex with him. He was pretty good looking, and the usual Spike bravado could be adorable at times, if not annoying. He also had that British accent and deep sultry voice that, truth be told, made her knees weak. The fact that he still hadn’t put on his shirt also wasn’t helping; it made it worse. Her eyes began wandering down to his pecks, all alabaster and muscle-y and…

“You’re not listening.”

Buffy glanced back up at him and was surprised by the cocky grin on Spike’s face.

“Ablah..?”

At Buffy’s apparent loss of coherent thought, Spike moved closer to her, smiling even wider when he smelled her arousal.

She tentatively placed her hands against his chest and pushed him away. An instant’s touch driving her crazy enough that she just had to get out of there or else risk an encore of last night’s performance.

“If we want this fixed, I have to tell them,” she quickly retorted, before taking off.

Spike smiled smugly to himself as he watched the completely flustered Slayer run. Yeah, this could get pretty interesting.


+~+~+~+~+~+


“Giles!” She burst into his apartment, startling Giles just as he was about to take a sip of his tea that burnt his lip. “Ooh. Sorry,” she chuckled apologetically.

“It’s all right. Is something wrong?” he asked as he turned to Buffy.

“I sort of claimed Spike,” she got out quickly. The cup slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor. “I’m guessing you know what a ‘claim’ is,” she said, smiling innocently as Giles’ mouth hung open in a shock-stricken expression.

“Why…” He stood up and paced as he thought of the words to say after such a declaration. “Why on Earth did you do that?”

“I don’t know!” She walked past him and into the living room, flopping down onto one of the chairs. “I was drunk and--”

“This is serious, Buffy. This…” Giles paused as he uncharacteristically couldn’t find the words to describe how severe claiming was.

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “But I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t even remember that I did.”

“Hold on… Does this mean you… and Spike…” When Buffy recoiled, realization came over Giles. “Dear Lord, not an image I wanted in my head,” he muttered as he took his glasses off.

“Giles!” she chided.

“Right, right,” he said, focusing again on the problem at hand.

“I can’t be married. More importantly, I can’t be married to Spike,” she whined.

“Yes and there could be effects.” Giles sat on the armrest of the sofa as he tried to recall what he had read about vampire claims.

“Effects?” Buffy frowned.

“Yes,” Giles answered her as he snapped out of his thoughts. “It’s best that we keep calm.”

“Calm? Keep calm?”

“Buffy, do not panic.”

“Panicking? Who’s panicking?” she said sarcastically, standing up and pacing back and forth across the living room. “I’m not panicking. Watch me not panicking.”

“Does Joyce-”

“Oh God, Mom.” She stopped pacing when she realized that if they couldn’t do anything about the biggest mistake of her life then she’d have to tell her mom everything.

“Let’s not tell her just yet. We will fix this Buffy,” he reassured her though he wasn’t too sure himself. “I hope so,” he mumbled as he knelt down to get books for research.


+~+~+~+~+~+


“What’s this?” Spike picked up the thick blanket that Buffy had thrown him. “A wedding present? For me? Sweetheart, you didn’t have to.” He was grinning like a schmuck, and if it weren’t for the goose bumps his calling her ‘sweetheart’ gave her, she would have kicked it right off.

“Shut up. Come with me.” Her voice was commanding; a far cry from how she had been when she had left.

“Where are we going?” He leaned back further into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest and giving no sign that he was going to move.

“To Giles’.”

There she was again with the short answers. Maybe if I’m annoying enough… “Why can’t we go through the sewers?”

“Not happening.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No,” she said firmly as she took the blanket from his hands, flung it over his head and pulled him out of the chair.

Spike frowned. When the Slayer wasn’t at a loss for words over his hotness, or throwing snappy comebacks at him, or fighting with him and making him hard, it was no fun. “What’s with the attitude change?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

He peeked through the blanket. “What?”

“You should be repulsed that you are sort of married to a Slayer,” she said, still pulling him by the arm up the stairs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he chuckled. “I am, pet. Just love seeing you all weak in the knees for me.”

“I am so not all weak in the knees for you,” she snorted. She then swallowed hard at the thought that Spike could feel her desire for him.

“Whatever you say, pet.” He chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

Betas: DawnOfme and EveryLastDrop

---

“Is this one of your lame gang meetings?”

“Yes,” she answered distractedly, still pulling on Spike’s arm when they arrived at Giles’ apartment. “I mean, no. God, Spike, this also concerns you so try to act like you care. Sit down, shut up, and listen.” She huffed and shoved him onto the chair, a cloud of dust filling the air as he hit it.

“I love it when you’re pissed off,” Spike said impertinently. “I also love it when I’m watching you bob your little head while you’re deep throating me.”

Willow gasped and quickly covered her ears. Xander froze, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly upturned. He hurriedly reached for the throw pillow on Willow's lap and placed it atop his to cover his crotch.

Giles stood up and muttered, “Scotch.”

“Wha- Bu- Huh?” Buffy glanced around at the disturbed and shifty glances of her friends and Watcher. “He doesn’t remember anything. I so did not do that.” She turned to Spike and whispered, “Did I?”

“What do you think?” Spike bit his lip as he grinned and cocked a brow.

Buffy pouted and slumped onto the sofa next to Willow.

Xander, after recovering from his hard on, said, “Can we please gag him?”

“Ooh, the whelp likes it kinky,” Spike teased. He was having so much fun teasing the Slayer and her friends that he didn’t plan to stop anytime soon.

“I could just stake him,” Buffy shrugged.

Spike glared at the Slayer as she gave him a cheeky smile. “You do know I can still kill you all in your sleep – or even awake, right?” he asked, glancing at the three.

Willow grimaced apologetically at the vampire. “You’ve tried so many times already, sweetie.” She leaned forward and patted Spike’s knee soothingly. “Let it go.”

Spike frowned as he remembered all the times he’d tried to kill the Slayer and her super friends. The first time, her mother had threatened him with an axe. The last time, he’d ended up in a soddin’ wheel chair. “Right, then. Movin’ on.” He gestured at Giles to get on with the explanations.

Giles put down his glass of scotch and picked up the book he had been reading. “It says here that ‘after a full twenty–four hours, the consequences of the claim will take effect’. And it appears that we cannot stake him.”

“Why not?” Buffy asked.

“When the mate’s other half is killed, the one left will suffer grave consequences.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” Xander mumbled begrudgingly.

“It also says here that you will be able to feel what the other is feeling,” Giles continued to read, ignoring the boy’s comment.

“Ooh, nifty,” Willow said brightly, but at everyone’s blank stares, she sank back and frowned. “I-I mean…”

“How about telepathy? No telepathy?” Spike asked, partly wishing that aside from feeling her arousal when she was around him, that he could tap into that crazy little Slayer mind and revel in her sexual fantasies of him.

Giles, still not looking up from the book, answered, “No telepathy.”

“Well, that’s sad. Can’t look into the Slayer’s mind and see her naughty little thoughts of me.”

“The only naughty thoughts I will be having of you involves something hard and pointy,” Buffy snarked.

In the sudden quiet, Xander slowly raised his hand. “And by hard and pointy you meant stake, right?”

Buffy could only grimace at his need for a clarification.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Come on,” she sighed, and pulled him by the arm into Giles’ bathroom that evening.

“Easy on the leather, pet. You’re bruisin’ it.” He repeatedly swatted at her hand until she shrugged, finally letting go of him even though it was so much fun to touch his muscled arms.

They both struggled for a minute as Buffy tried to tie Spike up. Finally overpowering him, she cuffed his hands and pushed him into the bathtub. She knelt beside it, holding down a still struggling Spike. She then tied his feet to the pipe as she said, “I could bruise something else – like your face. So hold still.”

Spike sighed in defeat and settled for being annoying instead. “Is that a way to talk to your husband?”

“Spike!” she shouted as she raised her hand, ready to slap him senseless, before she clasped her fist and brought her hand back down. “You know what? You’re not even worth it.”

“Mad already? I was just teasin’ you, Slayer. Don’t get your knickers all in a twist.” She stood up, ignoring him, and was about to leave the bathroom until he said something unexpected. “I’m sorry.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned around to see the almost genuinely apologetic look on the irritatingly hot vampire. “Don’t apologize. It’s creepy.” She then darted away from him, grumbling things that even his enhanced vampire hearing couldn’t make out.

+~+~+~+~+~+

He hadn’t been in the tub for more than ten minutes before he was bored. He reckoned he’d never been as bored throughout his whole existence.

He sat up when Buffy entered the bathroom, a bag of blood in hand. “What’s that?”

“What does it look like?”

“Doesn’t happen to be human blood, does it?”

“Just drink it,” she said, tossing him the pack of blood Xander had bought. He instantly bit into it and began to drink.

Buffy moved to the sink, propped herself up with her hands on it, and took a few deep breaths. Even though Buffy didn't seem fazed with the past events, she had been overly distracted despite being her usual cheery self. He knew she was worried. He just didn’t know if it was because it had been twenty-four hours and he could already feel what he was feeling or because he had been watching her too closely. She straightened and bent her neck left and then right to stretch out. Spike found it rather sensual.

She turned to him and saw he had stopped sucking on the bag and instead was staring at her – or dare she say, ogling her. “I’m going home. I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t do anything while I’m gone,” she threatened, pointing a finger at him.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“What’d I miss?” Spike smirked, plopping down on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table. The Scoobies had arrived at Giles’ pretty early the next day and the ruckus had woke him up just after drifting off to sleep; for that he wanted to be extra annoying.

Xander glared at him from across the living room as Giles spoke, “You were only in the kitchen, from which you could still see and hear us, for about a minute. What would you have missed then?”

“Just pointing out how unproductive you all are.” He took a bite of one of the cookies he’d taken from the kitchen.

“Hey,” Buffy called out as she entered Giles’ apartment. She was wearing a short light green skirt, a white spaghetti strap blouse-- both of which barely left anything to the imagination-- and a black cardigan that did nothing to cover her. “Anything yet?” she asked as she slumped on the couch beside Spike, making her skirt hike up even higher. Spike’s eyes couldn’t help but wander up her thighs; the sight making him forget that he should be sneaking in a few sarcastic comments here and there.

“There isn’t any text on how to undo a claim,” Giles answered, rubbing his eyeglasses mercilessly.

“That’s not what I want to hear,” she frowned. Still oblivious to the vampire who was lusting after her, she squirmed in her seat as Spike’s eyes roamed up to her cleavage.

“There must be something we can do. This can’t happen, Giles,” Xander said. Buffy, meanwhile, tried to figure out why she was feeling what she was feeling when there was nothing she or anyone was doing to make her feel that way. She then remembered one of the consequences of having been claimed.

As Xander continued explaining how against it he was, Buffy turned to Spike, nose wrinkled and brow furrowed in a grimace, and whispered. “Are you… Are you aroused or something?”

Spike’s eyes widened. He remembered she could feel everything he was feeling. He feigned a surprised expression, scowling and looking at Buffy as if she was daft.

“No,” he scoffed nervously. He cleared his throat and excused himself.

Buffy watched him suspiciously as he headed straight to Giles’ bathroom. She then turned her attention back to the group and soon became too wrapped up in their discussion to even remember that vampires didn’t have any need for a bathroom.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Spike muttered as he shut the door behind him, hurriedly unzipping his pants. “Rupert won’t mind,” he chuckled. He pulled his pants down just low enough to release his cock.

He slowly wrapped his fingers around it and closed his eyes. He began to stroke it up and down, letting thoughts of one naked Buffy Summers writhing beneath him plague his mind.

A few minutes into the discourse, Buffy suddenly felt something familiar building inside her as her muscles tensed and her breathing became heavier. Her hands flew to the couch and gripped hard.

“You okay, Buffster?” Xander asked worriedly.

“I… I…” She suddenly cried out, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. She slowly opened her eyes when the inexplicable sensation subsided, and was greeted by the inexplicable expressions of the three people staring at her.

Silence filled the room until Spike came out of the bathroom and giddily marched to his seat beside the slayer. Noticing the shocked and grossed out looks on their faces and Buffy's embarrassed and disgusted demeanor, he asked, “What?” He glanced at everyone and soon it dawned on him what it was. “Oh… Bloody hell,” he muttered.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Nothing,” Buffy sighed, closing the book in frustration. It felt like they had gone through every possible book in the place and they’d found nothing; only sort-of-hot photos of vampires mating and claiming each other.

“There might be more books in the school library,” Willow suggested.

“Are you all conspiring to get me to dust?”

“We can’t kill you, remember? Part of the effects of the claim,” Xander emphasized the word ‘claim’ contemptuously.

“We can take my car.” Giles stood up and took the car keys from his desk.

“I’ve seen your car, and there is no bloody way I’m going to be seen in that piece of junk. I’d rather dust.” Spike grabbed his blanket and wrapped himself in it.

“Don’t we all?” Xander mumbled as all of them headed out of the apartment.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Buffy and Spike were in Giles’ office scanning for other useful books while the other three were out in the library, reading their asses off.

After a few minutes of pretending to read the titles and flipping through some old texts, Buffy finally spoke up. “Can I ask you something?”

“Would it stop you if I said ‘no’?” Spike said uninterestedly.

“Why did you…” she trailed off and blushed, having realized what she was about to say.

He stared at her from the corner of his eye. “Wanked off?” She nodded sheepishly. “Can’t blame a bloke for havin’ a hard on with you prancin’ around in your skimpy little outfits, pet.” He looked at her up and down, biting his lip in approval.

“You’re a pig, Spike,” she chided, although she couldn’t suppress a grin. It was actually a compliment, minus the way he had said it and the words he had used, of course.

“If you don’t want me wankin’ off…” he broke off as he put down the book in his hand and curled his tongue behind his teeth. “There are other ways.”

“Eww,” she mouthed.

“Don’t play coy with me, Slayer. I know you want me.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, still with a seductive smile.

“And you’re making it easy not to,” she muttered under her breath as she turned to the books on the shelf.

“Am I?” he said saucily while he approached her. She stepped back with his every step forward until she was backed up against the wall. “I can feel it, Buffy. I can feel what you feel from every word, every look, every touch…” He grazed a finger up her arm. Shivers ran through every part of her body, radiating from every patch of bare skin he'd touched. She was about to throw herself at him when Willow entered the small office.

“You guys found that-” Willow stepped back in surprise. “Oh. Sorry.”

Buffy hurriedly pushed Spike hard enough that he fell to the floor. “Like having me on my back, do you, Slayer?”

“Shut up.” She stepped over him and followed Willow out into the library.

Betas: DawnofMe and EveryLastDrop

---

“I want blood.”

All four slowly glanced up at Buffy who, at that moment, seemed to be as pale as Spike. Her eyes wandered the room, not knowing what to focus on after her declaration. She’d been craving blood since she’d started to feel what Spike was feeling a few days ago and wanted to keep it to herself. She’d tried to ignore it at first, thinking it was nothing, but then as the days passed by, the want became stronger. She had deliberately bit her tongue the night before just so she could keep her blood lust at bay, but that didn’t help.

She’d finally decided to tell everyone because she needed that metallic taste in her mouth badly – she needed help. Judging by the looks on their faces though, she had been right about keeping it to herself. “I'm kidding,” she chuckled dryly and everyone exhaled in unison, mumbling with pure relief about how much she’d freaked them out.

Spike on the other hand only studied her. He knew, or rather felt, that she was lying. He watched her pretend to read the book in front of her, but anyone with half a brain could tell that she was worried, scared, probably disgusted and disappointed in the people whom she called friends; if only they took the time to pay attention to her.

The day went by much like it had for the past couple of days: research, more research, lunch, research, and then everyone would go home and Buffy would tie him to the tub – which he’d started to like.

And despite liking their nightly routine, what she and the Scoobies had planned that night was much more interesting and hopefully fun. The last few days of sexual tension had been killing him. He reckoned his pants would eventually just pop open from all the strain at its seams.

“Are you taking Spike home tonight?” Giles asked as everyone got ready to leave that night.

“Yes,” Buffy said, barely able to contain her excitement as she spoke.

The thought of being alone with Spike for a night was nerve racking and the night should prove to be pretty interesting since she’d been really aroused every time he was in the freakin’ room – which was all the freakin’ time. She didn’t know if it was just him being aroused and her feeling it or if she was actually aroused. It was probably both.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted when Giles gave her a worried look. She glanced over at Spike who was talking to Xander – or more like arguing. It was surprising that the two hadn’t killed each other yet. It probably had something to do with the fact that Xander couldn’t do anything to Spike since she’d feel everything.

“Are you sure?” Giles followed her gaze when he saw a tiny curl at her lips and just as he thought, she was looking at Spike. Often more times than not, he was pretty much out of the loop. But this thing with Spike and Buffy – everyone noticed it.

“Spike’s bothered you enough. Anyway, he’s my problem so I have to deal with his annoying little ass.”

Spike spun around at the mention of his name and his arse, and then squinted at Buffy. “My arse is not little. It’s perfect.”

Buffy sighed heavily when Giles gave her a meaningful look. It was going to be one long night. “Where’s that gag?”

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Just so we’re clear, the only reason I'm letting you stay here is because you’re my mess, and I need to keep an eye on you,” she whispered loudly as she closed her bedroom door behind her.

”Can't keep your eyes off my hot, tight body, can you?” Spike emphasized what he meant by running his hand from the middle of his chest down to the waistband of his pants; quite like the way he did when he barged into the school during that one parent–teacher night. Buffy had noticed how hot he was then, even with his wrinkled and lumpy vamp face, and even in the face of possible death. His repetition of that exact gesture did nothing to relieve Buffy of her want for him.

“You wish,” she snorted.

Oddly enough, the disappointment Buffy felt told her that he actually did. He sauntered closer to her, pulling something out of his pocket. Buffy was actually scared even if she knew he couldn't hurt her because everything she’d feel, he would feel as well. Strangely, he pulled out a bag of blood and handed it to her. “Why are you giving me this?” She arched a brow questioningly.

Spike had not forgotten the incident that afternoon, and he had told himself that he would give his nightly snack to Buffy. Why? He had no idea. “The whelp gave it to me before we left. It’s still fresh. Figured you'd want it,” he shrugged, forcing nonchalance into his voice even if he was rather worried about her blood lust.

Buffy had been hoping that everyone had forgotten about the whole ‘I want blood’ thing. She laughed nervously and said “I was kidd-”

“And don’t give me that ‘I’m kidding’ crap.” Spike put a hand up and stopped her denial. “I can tell you were lying. I can feel everything you’re feeling, remember?”

“Don’t remind me.” She sighed heavily, looking at the bag of blood in her hands. “Thanks. I guess,” she mumbled. A smile tore at Spike’s lips even though she still couldn’t give him proper gratitude. “I-It doesn’t gross you out?” she asked, gazing up at him, and he gave her a pointed look. “I mean, yeah, you’re a vampire and you’re used to drinking blood but…”

“Seems kind of hot if you ask me,” he said seriously.

“That’s because you’re gross and a vampire,” she kidded and made no attempt to hide the grin that crept on her face. “I’m just gonna…” she pointed a thumb to the door, smiled at him sheepishly and went out of her room.

Spike almost wanted to stake himself for feeling what he was feeling. He was actually enjoying the Slayer’s company and actually wanted her. The first few days of taunting were of nothing but pure interest and mockery but lately, he felt as if he’d said all those things because he’d wanted something to happen. He wasn’t making suggestive remarks just for the heck of it and just to watch Buffy squirm and be all speechless anymore. He really wanted her.


Buffy couldn’t believe she was pouring blood into a cup for herself . It was absolutely insane. “Here goes.” She took small sips at first, her face in a grimace, but soon, she slurped hungrily until she drank every bit of the blood.

When she returned to her room, she found Spike lying on the bed sans coat and boots, his arms folded behind his head.

She folded her arms over her chest and eyed him with an arched brow. “What do you think you're doing?” she asked when Spike opened his eyes and saw her.

With a smug smirk, he answered, “Getting comfy on the bed.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” she clucked as she walked over to her bed. “You're sleeping on the floor, mister.” She then grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up, shoving him a little bit further from her. Spike being close wasn’t a good thing.

She crawled into the bed, tucked herself under the covers and tossed him a pillow.

“You can’t be serious.” He scowled at her, hands at his hips and lips pursed.

“Goodnight, Spike.”

The muscles in his jaw ticked as he watched her snuggle up to her pillows, still with a teasing smile on her beautiful face. Sighing in defeat, Spike moved to lie down on the floor. “Can't be worse than the tub,” he grumbled.

Buffy stifled a laugh as she watched Spike toss and turn on the floor. “Mmm bed...”

“Shut it.”

And for about two minutes, she did. He finally stopped shifting, settling it a position and relaxing into the silence, until Buffy broke it. “Soft, comfy beeeedddd…”

“That’s it,” he huffed and got up, bouncing into the bed beside her.

“Hey! Get off!” she exclaimed, though she did nothing to move away from him or push him off.

“Nope. I’m staying right here.” He then moved into the position he’d been in before Buffy had entered her room.

“Spike. I mean it,” she said firmly, raising her voice a bit to intimidate him.

Spike smiled even wider from the agitation in her voice. “Shush, Slayer. Your mom might wake up and catch me in here.”

He was mocking her. Clearly, he was. The tone of his voice and the goofy expression on his face said it all. He could care less if Joyce saw him in Buffy’s room in the middle of the night.

He was still right though. “You’re not even going to sleep,” she whispered loudly.

“I am. Researching’s bloody tiring.”

“And really boring,” she added.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“Oh, I don’t usually do research. I mostly just do the ass kicking.”

They shared an amused moment, each laughing bashfully, until they became fully aware of the proximity of the other and more so of how comfortable they were with it. The intensity of the other’s eyes weighed down on them, pushing them to give in to their desires. Spike gave in first. He shifted his head closer to hers, his lips almost brushing against her pursed ones. When she didn’t make any move and only continued to intently gaze at him, he leaned in for a tentative kiss.

The taste of blood and Buffy drove him crazy to the point that he knew he wasn’t supposed to be doing what he was doing. Pulling away from each other just after a second with their widened eyes trained on the other.

Spike looked away first. God only knew why the hell he was feeling shy. Shy! Around the Slayer, even. He was going mad.

“Must be the claim,” he mumbled, the words reverberating in his mind as he tried to convince himself it was the truth. But it wasn’t.

Buffy blinked twice as she tried to control the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn’t arousal, this thing she was feeling. It wasn’t about sex. It was something different.

“Definitely.” She swallowed hard from the thought as she shifted on the bed to lay on her back.

Both stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep or even move after what happened.

It would be a very long night.

+~+~+~+~+~+

It felt weird. Spike was actually smiling at her; a genuine, slightly sweet smile. Not a smug or sleazy one. And she actually smiled back at him.

“Oz still hasn’t returned my calls,” Willow said quietly, bringing Buffy out of her thoughts of Spike as she stared at him. The two girls were at the dining table, Xander and Giles were sitting on the couch and Spike was sitting on the stairs. “All fifty of them.”

“I’m sorry, Will. I’m sure he’ll come around. Besides, school starts tomorrow and you’ll get to see him then, right?” Buffy said cheerily, in the hope of cheering her friend up.

“I just hope he talks to me. I’ve already prepped for groveling and begging,” Willow pouted. Buffy only smiled sympathetically at her and patted her back. As selfish as it was, she was too concerned with what was happening between her and Spike.

A few silence-filled minutes later, Xander spoke again. “If we find some way to undo this curse--”

“Claim,” Buffy corrected Xander, not glancing up from the book before her.

“Claim,” Xander continued begrudgingly. “You’ll leave Sunnydale, right?”

The question caught Buffy’s attention and she glanced up, immediately turning to Spike.

“Well…” Spike had wanted to leave Sunnydale. That had been the plan. But he wasn’t so sure anymore. “I suppose.”

“Great.” Xander enthusiastically went back to reading. Spike gave a slight smile to Buffy when he saw her lips forming a thin line and her brows furrowing as she wrung her hands.

A few more hours of page flipping, some slight humming, paper rustling, some murmuring and clearing of throats and Xander jumped up from his seat. He waved one hand around for everyone's attention, his mouth open as he focused on the text he had in the other. “I found something!” he exclaimed.

Betas: DawnofMe and EveryLastDrop


Neither of them spoke as they walked back to her house that evening. Spike had no idea why he didn't know what to say. He usually knew the exact thing to say in different situations, but at the moment, he seemed to be at a loss for words. He should have been going on and on about how glad he was that it could all finally be over, and Buffy should be yammering on about the same thing, but instead, they kept quiet.

“This is great,” Buffy finally beamed, cutting into the awkward silence that had begun the moment Xander told them how they could break the claim.

Spike turned to her, surprised at how excited she suddenly seemed at the idea of being as far away from him as possible. He would have felt if she was faking, but from the anxiousness he was feeling, it seemed that she wasn't. He’d thought they’d had some kind of connection last night, but here they were, apparently back to hating each other. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that the Slayer was starting to like him?

Seething inside, he put on a fake smile and said with almost the same excitement as Buffy, “Yeah. Very.”

“Great…” she murmured as they continued to stroll down Revello Drive. She didn't say anything after that, feeling how pissed off Spike was.

Wanting so badly to strangle the Slayer, he blurted out, “Maybe I should stay with the Watcher tonight.”

Buffy turned to him and stopped walking. “Why? So you can escape? I don't think so,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Don't you think you're underestimating old Rupes? I believe he can handle himself. Besides, why would I escape? I want this bloody claim undone before I leave Sunnyhell and get the hell away from you lot.”

Shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she began walking again, she said in a resolved tone, “You're sleeping with me tonight. Deal with it.”

“I am?” he mocked as he followed her, still angry with her. He wanted to tick Buffy off just like she had ticked him off by looking forward to breaking the claim when it was obvious he wasn't too thrilled about it.

“You know what I mean. Now shut up or I'll tie you up and gag you.”

Just as they were coming up to her front yard, he stopped and stood in front of her to block her way and curled his tongue behind his teeth. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Knew you'd like it rough.”

She crossed her arms, wondering how she could have even possibly started to like the most irritatingly rude vampire in the world. “Move out of my way, Spike.” When he didn't, she sidestepped and moved past him.

She thought he would run away. She was walking away from him, totally not looking and not concerned if he left or not. It was perfect timing to run away. To her surprise, he kept walking beside her. He must really want that claim undone if he'd stomach being with her for it.

When they reached the front porch of her house, he immediately moved past her and opened the door for her. Buffy stood at the bottom of the steps and stared at him with her mouth hanging open.

Spike furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Buffy?” Joyce called out as she descended the stairs.

Buffy hurriedly sprinted up the steps and shoved Spike to the ground and out of Joyce's view. She further pushed the door open. “Mom! Hey. I was just-”

Smirking smugly, Spike stood unnoticed behind Buffy. “Hello, Joyce,” he greeted and ignored how obvious it was that she didn't want her mom to see him. Buffy frowned and closed her eyes before turning to glare at Spike.

+~+~+~+~+~+

After telling her mother everything, – everything being that Spike was helping with some demon and he needed a place to stay since the thing was after him - Buffy insisted that Spike sleep on the couch instead of the spare room like her mom insisted. “Are you sure you'll be alright here?” Joyce asked as she handed him a blanket. Buffy rolled her eyes at how welcoming her mother was toward the vampire.

Spike opened his mouth to answer, but Buffy cut him off. “He'll be fine, mom.” From the deathly glare Buffy shot him, Spike reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“Well, alright. Just tell me if you need anything. Goodnight, you two.”

“Night, Mom.”

Spike smiled ever so sweetly at Joyce before turning to Buffy, his genuinely sweet smile turning to an obviously fake one. “Your mum is really nice. I wonder where you get all that bitchiness from?”

Ignoring his comment, Buffy sat beside him on the couch. “Can you not bond with my mom?”

Spike scoffed and looked at her in disbelief. “Fine.”

“So...” she started and he turned to her. “Tomorrow's the big day. You can finally leave town.”

He stared at her for a second, feeling her nervousness and uncertainty. He could have been right all along, that Buffy really was beginning to like him and that what had happened earlier was just a smokescreen. It made sense that, as the Slayer, she'd try to hide or deny if she felt something for a soulless vampire. “Hm,” was his only answer as he scratched his chin with his thumb as he contemplated everything that had happened the past few days.

“Unless you don't want to leave?” she said softly in a questioning tone. Spike turned to her and cocked his head. Buffy quickly covered, even though she knew he could feel her hoping that he wanted to stay through the claim, “I mean, this is where the Hellmouth is. And you being a baddie, you'd want to stay here.” Spike only continued to stare at her. “But that doesn't mean we won't go through with however they're going to undo the claim. I'm just saying-”

A smile crept on his features at how cute the Slayer was rambling and at the thought of her not wanting him to go. “I get it, Slayer. Don't have to be all defensive.”

“I'm not being defensive,” she said as she folded her arms across her chest.

“What if I don't leave? What then, pet?”

“Play your cards right and I won't stake you,” she teased lightheartedly.

“Gee. Thanks,” he replied sarcastically.

Fiddling with the corner of the blanket she was staring at to avoid his eyes, she sighed. “I don't know. Maybe we could be friends or something.”

“Definitely or something. We get along one minute and the next you're disgusted with me.”

“That's because you're an evil, soulless vampire,” she kidded again.

But Spike answered her in all seriousness. “That I am, love. Can't change who or what I am.”

“I know,” she answered soberly, glancing up at him. “I kind of like you the way you are.” When she saw Spike sit up hopefully, Buffy hurriedly covered, “I mean, I don't like like you, but I don't hate you. And I can tell there's more to you than the side we've seen. You're different from all the other vampires I’ve fought and-- I don't know-- I might want to see the real you. The less annoying, less egotistical you.”

“That right?”

She smiled widely at him and the adorable head-tilting thing he did. “Doesn't mean I won't stake you if you try to kill me and my friends.”

“Believe me, I know that. Tried so many times, didn't I?” he laughed. “I think the reason why I haven't been able to do it is because I really don't want to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thought maybe shagging you would be better.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy tried to suppress her smile and chided, “Pig.”


One moment they were sitting in awkward silence side by side and the next, she found herself poised on top of him and kissing him with as much fervor as he was kissing her.

“I want you, Buffy,” he hushed and slipped his hands under her top. His fingers seemed to burn her skin as they skimmed the supple underside of her breasts, her taut stomach, and her arched back. But more than the sensations he was making her feel by his touch, what made her tremble in desire was the way he said her name. “I want you so much.”

A throaty moan was all she could come up with, even though she felt the same. She wanted him. She wanted to be with him. And that claim – it had never seemed wrong. It actually felt right. As if it was supposed to happen.

Maybe they shouldn't have searched for ways to undo it after all. Maybe she and Spike were meant to be together.

Maybe it was her arousal talking.

Spike's tongue lapping at her bite mark pulled her out of her musings. Remembering Giles and the Scoobies and what they would say if they found out she slept with him again, and Angel if he found out about everything, Buffy reluctantly pushed herself off him and stood up. Still panting, she stared down at the startled vampire. “I-I should get some sleep. School starts tomorrow and I don't want to fall asleep in class.”

“Right,” was all Spike managed to say.

Buffy smiled bashfully at Spike, spun around, and left him alone in the living room.

With a groan, Spike threw his head back on the couch and covered his face with his hands. “I've gone completely daft,” he muttered.

Buffy slowly trudged up the stairs, already missing Spike's hands on her skin and his lips covering hers. But just like her decision about Angel, whom she still loved, she knew staying away from Spike was the right thing to do.

“Slayer.” Spike's voice stopped her in her tracks. “Buffy,” he called out to her again, and she spun around. He hesitantly walked up the stairs until he was face to face with her. Buffy's heart began to race as he placed his hands on her waist, his fingers caressing her through her blouse. He was staring up at her with lust-clouded eyes, waiting for her to turn away or kick him down the staircase. Buffy stared back at him with the same look in her eyes and he knew she wanted it too. He took her hand and pulled her down the stairs.

He led her into the kitchen and pointed at one of the doors. “Basement?” Buffy nodded and he opened the door.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Spike looked around and grinned when he saw a cot. He motioned for her to sit down and began to take his shirt off.

“Presumptuous much?” Buffy said with a giggle.

Spike pulled his shirt back down and frowned. “Not with the denial again.”

Buffy smirked, knowing how aroused Spike was and knowing he knew how aroused she was. She bit her lip as her hands traveled from the sides of his legs up to his button-fly. She slowly unbuttoned every one of them and then pulled his pants down until his hardened cock was right in front of her. She wrapped her small, soft hand around his swollen cock. She began to stroke it slowly up and down, flicking the tip of his cock with her tongue, an impish grin on her features while she stared up at him through her lashes. Spike jerked into her hand as he begged for more than what she was giving him.

Buffy obliged, feeling his need herself, and licked the underside of his shaft, tracing the spasming vein a few times before she put the head of his erect member into her mouth and sucked it gently.

“Fuck,” Spike gasped, and shuddered as Buffy rhythmically released and sucked on his throbbing head. He tangled his fingers in her golden locks, grabbing the back of her head as he urged her mouth deeper onto him. Buffy moaned around his manhood as she felt every sensation she was making him feel, sending vibrations through his member and making them both moan.

Spike screwed his eyes shut when Buffy swallowed him as deeply down her throat as she could. He just wanted to feel how tight and warm and wet her mouth was. He wanted to drown out every voice that was telling him how wrong this was. He just wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with him. He felt his balls tighten and he knew his orgasm was near.

Buffy was surprised when Spike pushed her away when she was so close and felt that so was he. “Did I do something wrong? Wasn't I okay? I've never done that before and--”

Spike chuckled in disbelief. He was panting and jerking involuntarily into her just moments ago and she could feel how much it was more than okay, and she had to ask? “Okay? Kitten, I'm about to come from just that.”

“Then--” Her question was cut short when Spike pulled her up, kissed her, and flicked her pants open. He pushed them down and off, along with her underwear. He hoisted her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. He walked clumsily over to the wooden post behind him and pressed her up against it.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered as the tip of his penis teased her entrance.

Not being able to contain herself anymore, Buffy pushed herself down onto his length. Both of them moaned loudly, never having felt greater pleasure than what they felt as Spike thrust rhythmically into her.

Feeling everything two-fold was too overwhelming. Buffy felt as if she was going to black out as they both came, but Spike's voice kept her awake, though not any less incoherent.

After the waves of pleasure had died down and both of them stopped spasming and shuddering, Spike leaned his forehead against Buffy’s shoulder and said possessively, “Mine.” while he licked her still visible bite mark.

He set her down, still holding her by her arms in case her knees couldn’t hold up. She smiled hazily at him. “That was amazing.”

“Shagging you is definitely better,” Spike chuckled, his eyes still trained on hers. “Maybe we shouldn't go through with it.” His voice was hopeful and scared at the same time.

Buffy's smile soon left her features. She did say she wanted to see the real Spike. She just didn't know the real, vulnerable Spike would scare her more than the evil, soulless vampire she thought he was.

She could only blink in response.

Even after he’d spent the night coming up with a saner reason, Spike still had no idea why he'd suggested not going through with the ritual. It was something that had just come out. A spur of the moment thing. He hadn't planned it and he certainly wasn't expecting it. Spike was confused, not knowing what he wanted, now.

He reckoned it was the orgasm-times-two which had made him suggest it. The feeling of being connected with her--being one with her in more ways than one--had been overwhelming. It was the most amazing feeling. Spike figured then that maybe he'd said it because he knew he'd never feel that way again if they went through with it.

That morning, he had pretended to be asleep when he'd heard footsteps from upstairs. He didn't want to go through the God awful pain of explaining why he'd suggested they not go through with the ritual.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Buffy never figured out if Spike had been joking or if he really didn't want to go through with the ritual that could possibly undo the claim. She’d been too scared to even ask that she'd quickly gone to her room and left him alone in the living room, wondering what was going through her mind.

When she'd left for school that morning, she was relieved to find him asleep. If Spike had been awake, he probably would have asked Buffy what she thought about his idea of not going through with it. And if things were as black and white as before, Spike equals vampire, vampire equals dust – it would have been one of the easiest and briefest conversations of her life. She would only tell him that he'd gone insane and that there was no way in hell she would want to stay his. But it wasn’t as simple as that anymore.

She’d spent all day thinking about what her friends would say if she did like Spike – which she didn't – and convincing herself that if it happened to be so, that it was disgusting and just plain wrong.

“You ready?” Willow asked as she and Buffy walked to Giles' apartment complex.

“Am I ever. But... are you sure it will even work? What if it goes all wonky and does something to me? What if it decapitates me?” Buffy said. She had thought about the possibility of the ritual going awry, but that didn't bother her as much as having all these weird, supposedly nonexistent feelings for Spike which, even after the mental debate she’d had with herself all day long, was still making her have second thoughts.

“Giles isn't too sure it'll work, especially since there was only that one time it was known to have worked, but I don't think decapitation is a possibility,” Willow explained, casting an odd sideways glance at Buffy. She was patently less excited than she should have been, and that made Willow even more suspicious as to what had been going on between her and Spike. “Besides, it's worth a try, right?”

“I guess. But I thought claims were supposed to be permanent. I'm his mate and he's my mate. Like we're supposed to be together, you know? Like... fate or destiny or--”

“I don't think getting drunk and accidentally claiming each other qualifies as fate,” Willow said, glowering at Buffy.

“You never know,” Buffy muttered, looking away and evading Willow's inquiring eyes.

Willow's jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she stopped walking and clutched her books tighter to her chest. “You don't want to go through with it,” she accused.

“What? No. Don't be silly!” Buffy exclaimed, feigning a disgusted expression.

Trusting Buffy, Willow let out a sigh of relief, chuckling at herself for even thinking Buffy might have feelings for Spike. “Good. You kind of scared me there for a minute.”

Buffy relaxed when she saw Willow completely buying her act. “Pfft. Come on. This is Spike we're talking about, Will.”

“I know. I'm sorry,” Willow chortled at the thought as they descended the steps.

Buffy hadn’t even finished berating herself for those unwanted feelings and for lying to her best friend when she noticed a familiar dark-haired vampire inside Giles' apartment, talking to Xander. She immediately halted, her heart feeling like it wanted to burst out of her chest.

“What's Angel doing here?” she asked.

Willow stopped walking, too, and turned to the surprised Slayer. “You didn't read the text on the ritual?” When Buffy shook her head, Willow continued. “Spike's sire's blood is needed for the ritual and since Drusilla isn't here--”

“Angel's the qualified party,” Buffy finished for Willow as she nodded in understanding.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I thought you already knew.”

Just as she was about to speak, Angel walked over to them. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” he asked.

Willow smiled faintly at Buffy and gave Angel a 'don't-be-too-hard-on-her' look before excusing herself and going into the apartment.

The moment they were alone outside, Angel immediately asked, “Was it because of Spike?”

Buffy shifted and lowered her eyes. “It had nothing to do with him,” she answered in all honesty. And he truly didn't. Except maybe for making her realize what she'd needed to do.

“Then why? After you told me that we can't see each other anymore because 'what you want, I can't give you'...” he trailed off. “Spike's claimed you. And you've claimed him,” Angel said, more to himself; his eyes focused on the floor as he tried to take in all that had happened. He then glanced up. “You do know that Spike's a vampire too, right?”

She rolled her eyes before meeting his hurt-filled ones. She reached out to him, only for him to step back. Buffy withdrew her hand and shifted uncomfortably. “I didn't want this to happen. You have to believe me. It was an accident. I was drunk and lonely and--”

Angel still couldn't wrap his mind around it. He couldn't even look her straight in the eyes. He wanted to believe her but it all hurt too much. He shook his head and turned away from her as he said, “Let's just get this over with.”

+~+~+~+~+~+

It was the longest staring game ever. Angel had been extra pensive the minute they'd entered the apartment. And now he was staring at her with his sad puppy dog eyes, which made her feel extra guilty about the events of the past few days.

“So. Captain Forehead's invited to the party,” Spike said as he leaned on the wall beside Buffy. “Planning to do some celebrating with him after, are you? Just don't celebrate too much or I'd have to like him again.” Buffy only turned to him, breaking her and Angel's gaze. “What? No snappy comeback?”

She knew he was being extra annoying because he could feel she was not in the mood and oh joy, payback for running away from his stupid little suggestion. “I'm not in the mood, Spike.”

“Is it that time of month?”

Buffy plopped her arms at her side with aggravation and glared at Spike. “God! Don't you ever shut up?”

“Why don't you make me shut up?” Spike challenged her as he raised a brow and bit his lip suggestively.

“I so can not wait for you to get the hell away from me.”

Spike opened his mouth, scrambled for something as hurtful to say, but all he could come up with was “Me too!” He huffed, turning away from her as he rolled his eyes at his pathetic retort.

Buffy's lips curled into a grin as she watched Spike try to pretend he wasn't brassed off. Their banter made her completely forget about the brooding vampire who was still watching them. All she could focus on was Spike.

His lips were pursed and boy, did they ever look so kissable. She wanted to jump on him and ride him senseless – which, she almost did last night. With her mom just upstairs. It was a wonder how they didn't wake her up with all the noises they'd made.

The thought made her giggle and Spike turned to her. “What?” he growled.

“Nothing. Just remembered last night,” she said, smiling innocently as she rolled back on her heels.

Thinking she was poking fun of what he'd said, Spike grumbled, “What about it?”

Buffy leaned to him, her arm brushing against his ever so lightly that it sent all sorts of chills to Spike. “The expression on your face when I was deep throating you,” she whispered to his ear, her breath giving him shivers. She then pulled back, smiled and batted her eyelashes innocently.

Spike's eyes immediately darkened with desire and glazed over with the thought of taking her right then and there. “Well now,” he started, but then all he could do was breathe heavily. He gulped as they continued to stare at each other with lust-hazed eyes.

“Right then.” Giles' voice broke the two's trance. Both of their heads shot up to Giles' direction.

“Let's do this,” Xander exclaimed as he clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

Buffy's eyes then fell to Angel who shot her a look of incredulity. He'd seen and heard everything. He shook his head, wondered if she intentionally did and said those things just because she knew he could hear them. He looked away first, walked towards the center of the room and stood beside Spike.

“You don't really think you have a chance with her, do you?”

Spike only clenched his jaw. The git was actually suggesting he wanted to be the Slayer's boyfriend. It might have been the damn funniest thing he could have said. But he wasn't going to deny it. He did have feelings for her. Pure, lustful feelings. Maybe a little liking, but that was it. It was far from love, far from anything he'd felt for Drusilla, but it wasn't impossible that it could lead there.

As the others walked into the circle Willow had drawn, it dawned on him why he wanted things to stay the way they were – he could be falling in love.

He was a vampire, a demon; a monster to others. But he also felt the basic human impulse of not wanting to be alone. Like the Judge said, he and Dru reeked of humanity. Seemed only right that he'd want to fill the need of being with someone like him; someone he could connect with. And sure, he could bite some poor, helpless chit and sire her but he didn't want that. He wanted something real. That was the reason why he hadn't gone off after Dru again in the first place.

Not that he and the Slayer were in love.

But because as bad and wrong as what he and Buffy have is, it was real. It wasn't pretty, pretty damn crazy though, but it was real. He could feel it in his gut.

As he was about to call out to Buffy who was standing across the room and have her stop this whole thing, Willow began chanting.

“Bollocks,” he groaned to himself.

That was it.

In only a matter of minutes, Buffy would have to pretend to be glad that it was all over when she felt the exact opposite.

Mind you, it wasn't that she wanted to be with Spike for all eternity, because one, she wasn't immortal and two, there's only so much Spike one could take. She just wanted to be with him now; explore the feelings she had for him - and by explore she meant have lots and lots of amazing sex. Also, possibly, get to know Spike a little more.

The lust was definitely there. The hate? Not so much anymore. The like? Maybe a little. The love? Not yet.

Not yet. But maybe. Possibly. Someday.

She wasn't going to just let that 'maybe love' go. “I'm sorry,” she muttered. At first, Spike and Angel were the only ones who heard her. Spike smiled widely at her while Angel scowled, obviously angrier than before. Louder than the first time, she repeated with an air of finality, “I'm sorry but I can't do this.”

Xander shook his head, his mouth hung open. He looked around the room, utter perplexity painted on his countenance, as he waited for someone to say – or do – something. It had to be a spell. Buffy had to be under a spell. Or he was, and he was seeing and hearing things.

Giles could only conclude that it was the effect of the claim. Buffy was drawn to him, surely, because of the claim. She had hated Spike since they first met and her falling for him would be out of the question.

Willow disdainfully muttered an, “I knew it” as she walked out of the circle and dropped the book onto the table, grumbling about how she missed the signs.

“Hah!” Spike finally exclaimed and broke the deafening silence, pointing and waving a finger at Angel.

They didn't know how they'd managed to get out of Giles’ apartment without being completely eviscerated by the angry mob of Scoobies. The group had been too busy arguing about what to do, taking a side and defending it, to even notice the two slipping out together.

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 slightly.

+~+~+~+~+~+

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.

“Stupid gits,” Spike mumbled as he slipped the bottles of bourbon he'd nicked from the store out of his coat pockets. He set them down on the desk, shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over the chair. On his way back to the wrecked factory where he'd left his car, he had decided to leave Sunnydale immediately and never come back. Rid himself of the associations he'd made with the Slayer and her stupid friends and her stupid watcher over the course of the past weeks. Of course, he’d decided that in a fit of anger. Now he wanted to go back to the Summers' home, kidnap the Slayer, and then get the hell out of Sunnydale.

Or, he could just stay where he was, waiting for Buffy to figure out that she wants to be with him. “Right,” he chuckled disdainfully, taking one of the bottles of alcohol and cracking it open.

He couldn't believe he was back to drinking himself to oblivion over another bint.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Buffy knew exactly where she was going and she had no intention of stopping, even though Angel was following her. For someone who was so used to walking away – even when he shouldn't – Angel had been sort of slow on the uptake lately. Or maybe he just didn't want to believe or accept that someone could actually like Spike. Or maybe even love him.

“He's probably left Sunnydale by now,” Angel insisted, quickening his steps to keep up with her as they walked down Revello Drive.

Buffy only let out at exasperated sigh and grimaced at Angel's attempt to make her stop going after what she wanted. He should have learned by now, after everything they'd been through, that no one could really stop her when she was determined. Plus, Spike had never done anything other people told him to do and he sure wasn't going to start now. She was certain he'd still be in Sunnydale. It had only been a few hours after he'd left the Summers' home and it wasn't like he was in a hurry or anything, right? Buffy shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts of doubts and hesitations. He does like me.

Finally giving up, Angel stopped traipsing after Buffy. He huffed and dropped his arms at his sides, shaking his head at the sight of Buffy walking away from him and even worse, that she was leaving him to go after Spike.

“He's not going to be there,” Angel called out again, hoping that Buffy would just stop, because this – it didn't make any sort of sense.

Despite the little voice in her head, making her have second thoughts, Buffy only continued walking and tossed her hair, emphasizing to the dumb vamp that he was being ignored. She had enough of everyone trying to control her. It was her life, she needed to do what she wanted, and she had a plan to do just that.

After walking all the way and finally arriving at the abandoned factory where she was hoping Spike was, she crept in and descended the staircase carefully. She saw Spike lying on the bed and she smiled.

She sauntered closer and tried waking him up. “Spike,” she said, poking him with her index finger repeatedly. She finally gave up and figured if two minutes of poking and screaming wouldn’t wake Spike up, then nothing would. Well, except maybe for hard things thrown at him or hitting him really hard, but she was over the hurting-Spike phase.

Buffy groused, “Ugh! What kind of vampire sleeps at night?” She sighed and shook her head, and then noticed the bottles of bourbon. She rolled her eyes, slipped her hands inside the back pocket of her jeans and worried her lip in contemplation. She stared at the sleeping, possibly drunk vampire. while a sly grin slowly spread across her face..

+~+~+~+~+~+

Spike roused to the sounds of several car horns blaring, people cursing and shouting, and tires screeching. Upon realizing that he was in his car – his fast moving, Buffy-driven car – his eyes flew open and he jerked up straight. “Hoollyyyy sssshh--” Spike grabbed onto the dashboard as the car swerved. If he'd been hammered, he sure was fully awake and very sober now. He turned, eyes wide and mouth agape, to the very determined Slayer in the driver’s seat. She was leaning forward, peering out into the street through the un-blackened part of the windshield, and gripping onto the steering wheel.

Keeping his voice very calm to get her attention without startling her, Spike began, “Slayer... Buffy...” His voice abruptly rose to a shout, “What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?”

Buffy turned to him and distractedly answered, “Driving your car?”

“And why, pray tell, are you doing that?” Spike did his best to mimic his “completely calm” voice.

“I... I needed to get out of Sunnydale,” Buffy explained, and turned to Spike fully, as if completely forgetting she was driving.

Spike's eyes widened and he frantically pointed towards the windshield. “Wa-wa-watch where you're going!” he screamed. He wasn’t a Nancy boy. It was just one thing to be a daredevil and drive fast; get the adrenaline pumping, get a few kicks out of it. He enjoyed that. It was a very different thing to drive fast when one was lunatic enough to drive like Buffy.

“It's hard to 'watch where I'm going' when almost every part of the windshield's painted black!” Buffy retorted, doing as he instructed. “Oh my God, a kitten!” she exclaimed, and swerved the car to avoid said cat.

“Stop! Stop the bleeding car!” Spike shouted again, a little more high-pitched than he wanted, still holding on to the dashboard for dear life. Buffy obliged him and hastily stomped on the brake, which brought the car to a screeching halt. At the sudden stop, Spike was thrown forward and hit his head on the windshield.

“Oopsie,” Buffy said with an impish grin.

Spike clenched his jaw, one hand holdig onto his aching head, and righted himself. “You,” he pointed a finger at Buffy. “You gave me a fucking heart attack.” Buffy gave him a pointed stare and he clarified, “Figure of speech.”

“I thought you'd like that I came for you,” she pouted.

“Oh, I do love you cumming for me, kitten,” he said saucily, and smirked at the double entendre. At Buffy's straight face, he rolled his eyes and continued seriously, “I do like it, pet. Grand gesture of love and all that rot.” Buffy opened her mouth but he quickly spoke up. “Right. Not love. Anyway, the idea of getting killed together in a tragic car accident doesn't necessarily appeal that much to me.”

Buffy opened her mouth again to object, but Spike held up a hand and beat her to it. “I was exaggerating.” He peered through the small transparent part of the windshield. “Where are we, anyway?”

“L.A.” She bowed her head and said somberly, “I just want some time away from them. All of them. All of Sunnydale.” She raised her head and looked into Spike's sympathetic eyes.

They gazed at each other and without any words, like they still had a connection even without the claim, Spike understood. “Okay.” He nodded, carefully, once.

Buffy smiled and turned from him happily. She placed her hand on the key in the ignition to start up the car, but Spike chuckled and she turned back to him with her brows furrowed.

“I don't think so,” Spike snorted, shaking his head.

Buffy raised her brows and asked, “What?”

“You're never driving my,” he emphasized by pointing to himself, “car again.”

Buffy scoffed. “Why the hell not?” At Spike's 'do you really need to ask' look, one of his eyebrows arched and a frown tugging at his lips, Buffy continued. “We can't exchange places; it's day,” she pointed out.

“Sure, we can. Just... ” Spike did some pointing and waving things with his hands, which Buffy supposed was what he wanted her to do.

“Fine,” she huffed. Spike barely slid towards the driver's side as Buffy maneuvered over to the passenger's side, moving almost as if she was going to straddle Spike.

And she did. Spike grabbed her hips and pressed her against him. “Spike, stop it!” Buffy scolded, though she couldn't suppress a smile.

“But I missed you...” he said as he pouted, caressing the hips that, God, he’d missed so bloody much. It wasn't that long ago that they'd shagged, but thinking he'd lost her just made him miss her more.

Bright red colored Buffy's cheeks at Spike's adorable pout and the way his fingers seemed to burn through the fabric of her top. But really, it was more from what he said – it didn't matter whether he meant it or not. She relaxed, and tried to ignore the hard on that was poking her just at the right spot. “We need to find a motel. We can't stay all day or sleep in this hunk of junk.”

+~+~+~+~+~+

Vampire strength plus slayer strength equals hours and hours of rough, dangerous, addictive, amazing sex. She'd never felt this sore and this good. And what made it better? Knowing Spike actually wanted it, wanted her.

There had been no confession of feelings or talk about the things that had happened the past few weeks, and she didn't really know where they stood or what they were. Sure, they knew they wanted each other, but did want or desire really make them a couple?

Spike stroked her cheek gently and snapped her out of her musings. “What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?”

She drowned in those beautiful blue eyes of his and then realized that it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was making her happy. “Nothing,” she said while gazing at him, and then she yawned.

Spike caressed her cheek, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “You should get some rest.”

Buffy rolled over and grabbed a handful of the blanket, and tucked it under her chin, her lips stretching into a contented smile. But at the thought of Sunnydale, her smile faded. She knew she was going back. She just hoped Spike would go back with her. Buffy turned to the vampire beside her and looked into his soft, blue eyes, and she knew he would.

Even with all the demon fighting and waitressing, and not to mention the sex-having with Spike, she still had been counting the days since she'd left Sunnydale. It had been five weeks of living in a cheap, almost run-down motel. Five weeks of eating Chinese food. Five long weeks.

Her stay in L.A. had certainly not been the getaway she thought it was going to be. She wondered why she thought it would in the first place when the last time she’d come here, she still ended up doing the thing she left Sunnydale for in the first place. The only reason she'd lasted as long as she had in this place again was because of Spike who, surprisingly, helped her with the slaying – well, some of the time. But that was okay with her because she didn't expect him to change overnight or to change period. What mattered to her was that he was really trying. For her. And she could see it.

Even so, she still couldn't help lying awake at night, thinking about the people she'd left – again. She missed her mom and her friends, especially since her birthday was only a few days away. She missed Giles and her training schedule. Even sitting in a classroom bored to tears was worth missing.

Even though her mom, Giles and her friends had hurt her, they were still her family and Buffy knew that they cared about her. She understood that they were just looking out for her – in a very pushy, irritating and controlling way. But she knew, one day she'd be going back to Sunnydale when she was ready.

“Well, that was fun,” Spike breathed sarcastically, slightly limping up the stairs of the motel they’d been staying at for the past few weeks. They'd just defeated a demon which had been preying on club goers in an alley a couple of blocks down.

Buffy turned to him, walking beside him unhurt. “I can't believe you got knocked unconscious. Again.”

Spike shot her a glance of contempt with his narrowed eyes and half-opened mouth. “Thing was strong,” he defended, putting the key in the lock of their motel room door and pushing it open.

Buffy gave him a pointed look but shrugged the topic off. “And ugly even for a demon,” she mused as she stepped into the room, still facing Spike. “Kind of like --”

Spike broke Buffy's train of thought with a gritted, “Angel.”

Buffy sighed and bit her bottom lip to try and hide her smile. She'd told Spike to stop insulting Angel but she had to admit, it amused her when he did it, especially when he'd pout at the same time. “Spike. We've talked about this before and --”

“Buffy.” Angel cleared his throat and made his presence known.

Buffy turned to face the room and saw Angel standing beside the bed. Instantly putting up her defenses and attempting to prove to Spike that Angel showing up unannounced meant nothing to her, she crossed her arms over her chest and held her chin up. “How did you find us?”

“Sniffed around, did you?” Spike said sourly.

“The usual,” Angel said with a shrug, walking nearer to the two as they entered the room and as Spike closed the door behind them.

Buffy wasn't amused at all. She didn't like the fact that Angel followed them when she obviously didn't want anything to do with him anymore since that night she left Sunnydale. Her face was stern, her lips a straight rigid line as she asked with the least bit of interest, “What are you doing here?”

“It's Willow. She's in trouble,” Angel answered.

Buffy's face softened as the faint line between her brows appeared in worry. “What kind of trouble?” She had not wanted the conversation to get any longer but this was her best friend, who she hadn’t seen in a while.

Spike only rolled his eyes, convinced that Angel was just making things up to make Buffy come home.

“Some hunters found two kids dead in the woods. The town concluded that it was the work of some cult because of the symbols on the hands of the children. Some moms started a group – Mothers Opposed To The Occult – and they’ve been protesting and campaigning against the murders and against witchcraft. They urged the school to search everyone's locker and found witchcraft-related materials in Willow and Amy's lockers. They're holding the two in City Hall as we speak.”

Spike scoffed, though he was starting to believe Angel and was a little concerned about Willow, who he happened to like. He reckoned the Sunnydale townspeople wouldn’t be taking the situation lightly and could possibly consider doing some old 'burning witches' ritual. “And what do you want us to do? Sweep in and save the day after what you lot did?”

“No, not you,” Angel retorted, sneering at the other vampire. “Just Buffy.”

Spike stepped forward further. “Well she bloody well isn't --”

“Spike.” Buffy stopped him by the arm. He turned to her and saw her pleading for him to shut up with her almost puppy dog-like eyes. Spike sighed and let Angel continue his yammering.

“Giles thinks you need some time alone and that we shouldn't bother you, but I think a month is more than enough for you. And him,” Angel muttered the two last words. “This is Willow, Buffy. She needs you. I don't know what they plan to do with them but it can't be anything good.”

Despite being pissed off at Angel for showing up in their motel room, she knew he was right. Willow was her best friend and she needed to help her. Besides, Willow was the only one who really hadn’t force the undoing of the claim.

A few minutes later, with much less convincing than Angel had prepared for, Buffy was stuffing the few clothes she had into her duffel bag.

“I can't believe you talked me into this,” Spike huffed as he took the duffel bag from Buffy's hand and walked out of the room.

Buffy followed him, half-smiling. She'd told Spike that if he wanted to stay and wait for her to come back, he could. But it made her happy that he wanted to come; that he wanted to be involved. “I didn't. You wanted to come.” Or maybe he just wanted to guard her against Angel. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

“Yeah, well...”

The two gazed into each other’s eyes, forgetting the other vampire with them. Angel groaned and ruined the moment, having enough of the yuck-fest. “God. Enough with the moon-eyes already.”

A good two hours after the very long, silent and awkward drive back to Sunnydale, they arrived at Sunnydale High and headed straight to the library, with Angel leading them.

Angel pushed the door slightly open but stopped when he saw Buffy just standing there, seemingly anxious to see her friends again.

“You okay?” Angel asked her.

Buffy looked at Spike who took her hand in his, bracing her. She faced Angel again and nodded.

As they walked into the room, Xander immediately got up from his seat and smiled. He quickly approached Buffy, taking her into his arms and warranting a jealous glare from the two vampires. They pulled away from each other after a second. After which, Xander looked over at Spike who stood beside Buffy.

“Spike,” Xander acknowledged.

To which Spike replied with the same tone, “Dimwit.”

Buffy slapped Spike's stomach, still with an amused grin, before walking up to her watcher who had stood up to welcome her as well.

“I'm terribly sorry,” Giles said ruefully, shaking his head in all sincerity.

Buffy smiled and squeezed his shoulders. “Let's deal with this first.”

“Right,” Giles said, heading back to the chair where he sat in front of the computer.

Oz, who had finally talked to Willow a few days after Buffy left Sunnydale, waved at Buffy. He was sitting beside the chair Xander had been sitting on earlier.

Buffy waved back at him and followed Giles. She looked at the computer screen over his shoulder. “What have you found?”

Xander sat across from Giles and began to tell Buffy about how they broke into City Hall. “We found nothing about the two. No records. No nothing.”

“We then did a little research on the Internet and found this article,” Giles said, pointing at the screen. He then scrolled down the page and continued. “We found that the two children are Greta Strauss, age six, and Hans Strauss, eight.”
“Hansel and Gretel?” Buffy asked, intrigued.

Giles nodded. “Yes.”

“Fairy tales are real,” Angel confirmed while walking to the steps and sitting down.

Buffy quirked an eyebrow at Xander, who shook his head. “I couldn't believe it at first either.”

“And then, we found more articles every fifty years. All the same,” Oz said. “As it turns out, the two children have died a hundred years ago and have been returning every fifty years to try and persuade a town into killing 'bad girls'.”

“Which, in this case, are witches,” Buffy continued with a nod.
“Yes. Some demons thrive by fostering hatred and persecution amongst the mortal animals. Not by destroying men, but by watching men destroy each other. Now, they feed us our darkest fear and turn peaceful communities into vigilantes.”
“Lucky us,” Angel muttered.

“So what do we do?” Spike asked, breaking his silence. Everyone in the room turned, mostly with surprise to the counter on which he had been leaning on. Buffy only smiled.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Holy macaroni, they're going to burn them!” Xander exclaimed as they burst through the door of City Hall.

The demon, guised as Hansel and Gretel, commanded the townsfolk to attack the group. Oz hurriedly ran to the fire hose in the corner and sprayed the angry mob that was headed for them while Giles recited a German incantation to reveal the demon in its true form.

“Xander! Find Amy!” Willow shouted above all the commotion, still tied to the post on top of a pile of burning books.

Xander narrowed his eyes, confused. “What?”

Willow struggled with her bonds. “She turned herself into a rat! Find her!”

Giles quickly finished the incantation by throwing a bottle of potion to the floor by the children who were approaching him and the demon appeared.

Seeing the tall demon, everyone in the room except for the Scoobies ran out, screaming in fear. Buffy saw one of the wooden posts, to which Amy had been tied to, and had an idea. She gestured over the post at Spike and he nodded. They broke the stake, hurled it at and impaled the demon.

After killing the demon, Buffy ran to Willow.

“Buffy?” Willow's eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape and slightly curled up into a relieved smile as Buffy began to cut her loose.

As soon as Willow was untied, she rushed to Buffy and wrapped her arms around her, holding her so tightly that if Buffy wasn't the Slayer, she wouldn't have been able to breathe. “I'm so glad you're here. I'm so sorry about...”

“Will,” Buffy said through Willow's rambling, dropping her arms to her sides with Willow still hugging her.

“... everything. We've missed you. I've missed you. I promise I'll never--”

“Will!”

Willow pulled away with an abashed smile. “Sorry. I'm just really glad you're back.”

Buffy smiled faintly. “Me, too.” She glanced at Spike through the corner of her eye and saw that he was not pleased with what she'd just admitted. He'd been on her for days, asking if she wanted to go home and she had always said no.

“Come on. Let's get out of here.”


Spike didn't have the opportunity to talk to Buffy about what she'd said to Willow on their way back to the Summers' home. From Sunnydale high, they headed home immediately.

Standing at the front porch of their home was Joyce. Her eyes were soft, rimmed with unshed tears; her lips tugged into an apologetic smile. She welcomed Buffy with an embrace and said, “I'm so sorry, honey.”

Joyce faced Spike who ducked his head. “I hope you can forgive me, Spike, for interfering the way I did. You two caught me by surprise and... Well that's no excuse for what we did.”

After all the apologies had been made, and everyone agreed to never interfere with Buffy and Spike's relationship – even the reluctant Xander – they all went inside the house for some early breakfast.

Everyone went home later, except for Spike who had stayed and went out the back porch. Buffy peered out the glass of the kitchen door and saw Spike sitting on the steps. She held the knob and took a deep breath before striding out the door. She sat down beside Spike.

Spike spoke, however still not facing her. He was staring out into the darkness of the early morning. “Could have told me, you know.”

Buffy nodded meekly, clasping her hands between her knees.

“Been wanting to go back here for a while, haven't you?”

“I wasn't sure... I wasn't ready then,” she said with a voice Spike could have barely heard.

Spike turned to her. “And you are now?”

“I don't know. Seeing everybody... I've missed them,” Buffy whispered, her head bowed down, refusing to look into Spike's eyes.

He gazed at her momentarily and then faced away. “Right.”

“I think I need to stay.”

“'Course. I understand.”

Buffy lifted her head and met Spike's blue eyes. “You do?”

“Well, no,” he sighed sadly. “But if it's what you want...”

“It is.”

Spike forced a smile, reaching out and caressing her cheek. “Okay, then.”

“How about you?”

“There's nothing here for a creature of the night like me, is there?”

“You're fighting evil. You're pulling for the good guys now.”

“I'm supposed to be the Big Bad,” he declared.

Buffy wrung her hands in frustration. She wanted to slap him and tell him, 'I'm here you vampire!' but she didn't want to impose. If he wanted to leave, he had every right to. “And now you're the Slayer's side kick.”

Spike grinned. “I'd like to think of myself as your partner.”

“Whatever you decide...” Buffy said softly, holding back the urge to cry through the tears stinging her eyes.

Spike gave no reply and simply stood up. “I should be off. Sun should come up soon.” He started to walk, leaving a disappointed Slayer behind.

Buffy steeled herself and tried to pull her lips as wide as she could to form something resembling a smile, as fake as it was.

Spike turned to her with a huge smirk on his face. “Get some sleep now, pet,” he said, walking backwards and disappearing into the night. “I'll see you tomorrow when I'm less likely to burst into flame.”

Buffy chuckled, and then smiled to herself. He was staying. Because he was hers. He was her vampire. But the best thing was that in her heart, she knew: she was his – accidentally or not.