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Chapter 7 Buffy opened her eyes to see the blue eyes of her mate smiling at her. She blinked before smiling back, hardly able to believe that this wasn’t some incredibly long and unbelievably fantastic dream. If it weren’t for the new fullness in her heart, she would be pinching herself, but she didn’t have to. She could feel him. Whoa. She could really feel him. Wow. “Amazing, innit? The claim?” She nodded her head mutely, smiling and stretching her body out against his length. She was about to lean in for a kiss when there was a knock at their door. “Dawn.” He rolled his eyes. “I c’n hear her heart. Bit’s been knocking every five minutes.” Buffy groaned. “I guess we should get up.” “Nah. Oi! Dawn!” He raised his voice to be heard in the hallway. “Get your arse in here if it’s that important!” Dawn came in, cheeks tinged pink, staring fixedly at the wall. “Buffy? Feeling better? Done playing checkers?” Spike looked at Buffy curiously as she snorted with laugher. “All done, for now. Sorry I didn’t come find you.” Dawn’s shoulders loosened. “It’s fine. I’ll never get used to seeing you like that though, so it’s good to know you’re okay.” She swung her gaze to the couple on the bed, her expression becoming devilish. “And I totally understand why your sister wasn’t the first person you’d want to see. Really, I’m happy for you. But if you’re all done with the making up for lost time thing, Angel has been extremely persistent trying to get me to make you talk to him.” “I don’t want to talk to him. At least not for a century or two.” Dawn rolled her eyes. “I dunno, but I think it’ll be okay. Besides, I definitely can’t hold him off for even the rest of today, let alone a century.” Buffy glanced at Spike, who shrugged, indicating that it was her call. She scrunched her nose at him, grumbling, “Fine. You’re no help at all.” Looking back at Dawn she said, “Okay, okay. I’ll go down. Just let me-” She was interrupted by the door swinging open. Dawn shrugged at Buffy’s eep and mouthed an apology. Spike tensed, growling at the intruder. Buffy sunk deeper into the covers, faced flushed as Angel stepped into the room. A snarl rose from the throat of the man beside her as he vamped out, and Spike spat, “Look, whatever you’ve got to say, I think it can wait. Slayer’s a little indisposed here, yeah?” Buffy shot him a grateful look, but Angel ignored Spike completely. “I’m sorry.” Buffy’s eyes flew to his. He sheepishly scratched the back of his head, looking like a boy caught stealing a cookie rather than a centuries-old vampire. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I was jealous, but you were right. We’ve been over for a long time. It was easy, I guess, holding on to that. Like the other things didn’t matter because one day it would be over, and we could be together. But then life went on anyway, and you moved on. And I got jealous.” He blew out a breath. “And while I will never, ever understand what you might see in him, he does love you. As you know obviously.” He snorted and shook his head. “I love you, Buffy. I always will. And maybe we can even be friends someday.” Buffy’s mouth had fallen open during Angel’s speech. She snapped it closed and glared. “You almost caused us to lose this,” she indicated Spike next to her, who was vibrating with the need to pound the wanker, but was more loath to abandon his naked mate. Buffy continued, “You need to leave. Now. If and when I’m ready to be friends, I’ll let you know.” Angel nodded, a mere shade of something like grief in his gaze before he turned to Spike. “I could sense the claim.” Spike rolled his eyes. “And so your brilliant plan was to catch us post coital? So when do you want your arse handed to you? Can I get dressed first?” “Shut up, Spike.” Angel unconsciously took a step backwards as Buffy started struggling to disentangle herself from the sheets, a murderous look in her eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief at the stay of execution when Spike laid a hand on her arm, leaning close to her ear and whispering. Angel could just make out the words goodies and later, yeh?. Buffy sat back with ill grace, arms crossed and fingers tapping impatiently. “Just… Just don’t hurt her.” Angel looked down before squaring his shoulders. Carefully avoiding eye contact, he took in the tableau before him—the slayer he would always love wrapped in the arms of the vampire he would always… be extremely annoyed by—and sighed. The sheet did nothing to hide the fact of her nakedness, nor did it disguise Spike’s as it fell from her shoulder to pool into his lap. Their ease with one another belied the novelty of their claim, and provided a sort of sorrowful comfort to Angel’s soul. He needed to get through to them, though. He may have admitted that he had lost Buffy, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t still need his help. Both of them. The world of claims could be perilous, and he was sure that they could benefit from his experience—he easily ignored the knowledge that he had no experience in this area. Lost in the onset of an epic brood compounded by self-delusion, Angel took an embarrassingly long time before noticing the presence behind him. He visibly startled when the ancient deity sniffed imperiously. He turned, glowering at Illyria, who had slipped into the room after him. She spared him scornful glance and raised her eyebrow in condemnation. “The One ordered you to leave. You should listen, lesser being.” Angel huffed. “The One? Who? And, wait a minute! Lesser being?!” He drew himself up, offended and wrapping as much dignity around himself as he could muster. “Now listen—” “She holds a place of importance, and you will not impede upon her path with her chosen mate. Leave this place.” When Angel didn’t move, Illyria’s open palm struck his chest, lifting and sending him flying. Dawn, who had been silent during the exchange, watched as his body struck the wall in the hallway, head snapping back to hit the wall. He fell to the floor with a small rain of plaster. She turned back to the blue skinned woman, a light of respect in her eyes, and allowed a wide grin to cross her lips. “That? Was. Awesome! Did you see his face?” She began chortling, barely able to hold herself up. Spotting the ancient god watching her with bemusement, she tried to control herself, motioning behind her. “I’ll just make sure he doesn’t come back, shall I?” Still grinning, she entered the hallway, and the remaining occupants could hear her laughing again, berating Angel for his stupidity as she pushed and prodded him away from the room. “Bloodthirsty little thing, my bit,” Spike muttered. Buffy distractedly nodded in agreement, watching Illyria with interest, while Spike absent mindedly patted the bedding, looking for cigarettes before realizing that of course he didn’t have them and rolling his eyes at himself. “Blue?” Spike grumbled. “Wha’sit?” Buffy shot him a look, no longer afraid of his feelings towards the strange woman, but still surprised that he was almost polite, rather than telling her to ‘bugger off’ or some other Britishism. Illyria, however, completely ignored the vampire, instead focusing her disconcerting gaze on the slayer next to him. “You are fortunate, One.” Buffy overlooked the odd title and inclined her head, mutely requesting Illyria to continue. “You have love such as that which Wesley held for the shell.” Illyria closed her eyes against the foreign prickle of tears. “I tire of this world.” The being once again swung her laser stare towards Buffy, who felt that her soul was being dissected. She wondered what Illyria was looking for, and if she were satisfied by what she found. “You are The One,” Illyria stated again. “What’s that mean, then?” Spike swung puzzled eyes between his mate and Illyria. Buffy shrugged slightly, conveying her ignorance. “You are worthy. You have begun to receive the gifts of your position. As time goes on, you will receive more. Soon, you will be able to share your gifts. Be careful, One, upon whom you bestow your favors. Not all are worthy.” She paused allowing Buffy to absorb and acknowledge her. “As The One, I will allow you the honor of escorting me to the Deeper Well until such a time that I may rise again to unleash my true power.” Buffy’s eyes boggled. “Uh, thanks?” “You are welcome, One. We leave shortly.” She spun on her heel, but stopped before she left the doorway. “You will take care of my pet. He is… unique, and I would be… highly displeased if he were to meet an ill fate.” She strode from the room without looking back or waiting for a response. Spike blew out a breath, wiping his face. “Well. That was, er, unexpected.” “You’re blushing!” “’M not.” “Yeah, yeah you are! She made you blush!” Buffy was starting to giggle. Spike tried to glower, but his lips twitched at Buffy’s mirth. “Love you, pet.” Instantly sobering, Buffy leaned into his side. “Love you.” “Sounds like you may not be so alone after all.” “Well, I have you. I won’t be alone ever again, will I?” He smiled against her hair. “No, not gonna happen. I’m thinking that we can keep the Bit, too.” Her face glowed as she grasped the possibilities. “Oh, oh god Spike. Can you believe it? I think I need to be pinched.” He nipped at her bottom lip, slipped his tongue into her mouth and breathed her in. Leaning his forehead against hers, he said, “What do ya say, luv? Once more into the breach?” With a huff of laughter, she brought her hands up to his cheeks, tracing the knife edge lines of his face. Their lives lay before them, intertwined. They would have each other forever, and they would only grow closer as time went on. She could envision nights stalking prey through graveyards, working together every spring to ward off another apocalypse. They would twist their bodies together throughout time. There would be tenderness and fierce desire, delicate kisses and moments that they missed the bed. She was complete, and so was he. Grinning, she agreed, “Once more into the breach.” Fin
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