a/n - as always, thank you for the wonderful reviews; they make my day much brighter : ) And a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, Kat, whose input and corrections are priceless to me.

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Chapter Five

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Dardiana, a volatile goddess at best, was eyeing Mahtiki with barely contained ire. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

Sliding a finger around the edge of Mahtiki’s cauldron, Dardiana’s voice was deceptively calm, “You have done something you shouldn’t have.”

Mahtiki stared at the goddess for a moment. When she only continued to stare at him passively he asked, “Which is?”

Dardiana huffed in irritation. “Don’t play coy, Tiki. It’s quite rude, really.”

Mahtiki raised a single eyebrow. “If you clarify the situation, maybe I can be of better help.”

Dardiana sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “You really take all the fun out of being an evasive and mysterious higher being, you know that Tiki?”

“You tell me that at least once every millennia,” Mahtiki said dryly.

Dardiana ignored his comment. She looked at him seriously. “You’ve done something terrible, Tiki. I don’t think you even realize the dire consequences.”

“Well, this sounds properly foreboding.”

Dardiana frowned. “You’re really quite uppity for a demigod, you know that?”

“Semantics,” Mahtiki said dismissively.

“Let me spell this out for you, Tiki. You’ve given out a soul that wasn’t yours to give. You’ve screwed up the timeline and the fates have been royally pissed off. We’re all in major kaka with the higher-ups.”

Mahtiki was silent for a long moment. “I did not realize that I, a god of souls, did not have authority over said souls.”

“Not when it screws with the fate of the world, Tiki.”

“Alright,” Mahtiki said calmly. “Of the three souls I have given I am going to assume it is my most recent. The one I gave to a vampire.”

“Yeah. The vampire. Otherwise known as the ‘Dark Knight’ in most of our prophecies, or whatever lame ass name the PTB came up with.”

“The vampire whose soul is the mate of the slayer’s.”

Dardiana rolled her eyes. “Don’t even get me started on that one.”

Mahtiki shrugged. “I fail to see the problem.”

“The problem is that this vampire was not supposed to get his soul back … at least not right now.”

Mahtiki raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Dardiana’s eyes narrowed. “Haven’t you been listening? Major consequences. Possibly world ending consequences.”

Mahtiki looked at the goddess curiously for a moment. “They don’t know?”

“What?”

“The PTB don’t know what the outcome will be?”

Dardiana bristled. “Of course they know!”

“But you said ‘possibly world ending consequences’.”

The goddess deflated slightly. “Okay, fine. They didn’t tell me exactly what would happen. But they of course know. They know everything.”

“I don’t know about that,” Mahtiki mused. “I remember a few instances where things did not progress how they said it would. Rome, for instance.”

“Well, it never really fell did it? It’s still there, isn’t it?” Dardiana’s brow scrunched. “I’m not here to argue with you about the PTB, Tiki. I’m here to ask you to remove the soul.”

“No.”

Dardiana gaped incredulously. “No?”

“Well, for one, I can’t. And even if I could, I don’t know that I would. So far everything you’ve told me is circumstantial. Mere possibilities and maybes don’t make a certainty, Dardi.”

The goddess sucked in a deep breath. “You … can’t … take back the soul?”

Mahtiki shrugged again. “Nope.

“Well, shit.”

--

He was gone. That was the only thing clear to her at that moment. They had been staring at each other, for how long Buffy truly didn’t know. Could’ve been a minute. Could’ve been forever.

In that moment she had been privy to something absolutely amazing. Staring into his eyes, absorbing his presence, just being near him felt so right. Something inside her clicked into place. She felt completely confused, exhilarated, thrilled, and so many other things that she was sure she was going to explode into a mess of indecipherable goo.

Then he was gone.

Where did he go?

Buffy was still staring dazedly off in the direction Spike had disappeared when she felt the hands gripping her shoulders tightening. Blinking stupidly, she turned to see the hands were attached to her Watcher. Giles’ face was pale and grim. Xander was saying something but Buffy only stared at him blankly.

“Quiet, Xander,” Giles said sending the teenager a sharp look. Looking back at Buffy he studied her carefully. “Buffy,” he said slowly as though he was teaching a child a new word. “Are you alright?”

Buffy stared at Giles for a moment, watching his lips form the question again. Glancing past him she saw Xander and Willow watching her with concern and confusion. Angel was standing a few steps away, his brow creased with confusion.

Xander stepped forward. “Buffy, what’s going on?”

Buffy lifted a hand and rubbed her forehead. “I … I don’t know,” she replied weakly.

“Give her some space,” Giles clipped tersely.

Xander’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see you giving her any space.” Xander shook off the restraining hand Willow placed on his forearm.

Giles glared at the teenager with a flinty eye. “Do not test me at this moment, Xander.”

“What are -”

All movement and talking abruptly halted when a loud snarl filled the room. Angel stalked forward, a hand outstretched to grasp Buffy’s arm, but before he touched her he ripped his hand back, a low angry growl emitting from his throat. Buffy looked up at him, still a bit befuddled. “Angel?”

“You … you …” Angel sputtered, disbelief and rage emitting from his every pore.

Tight lipped, Giles held up a hand as though to block the enraged vampire. “Angel, just stay calm -”

Angel looked at the Watcher and spat, “Calm! How the hell can I stay calm?”

Giles sent the vampire a warning look. “We mustn’t jump to conclusions.”

Angel laughed harshly. “You cannot possibly understand, Watcher. What I felt when he … it’s a claim.” He was breathing heavily, his eyes flashing gold. “It’s a goddamn claim!”

The three teenagers stared at Angel incomprehensively.

Buffy frowned. “I – what?”

Angel turned hard eyes on the vampire slayer. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now. God, I’ve been such a goddamned fool.”

Buffy moved her hand to place it on his arm, but Angel hissed and quickly moved away before she could touch him. Stung, Buffy fought back a rush of tears. “Angel?” she whispered. “I – I don’t understand … what’s happened?”

Angel snarled, “Like you don’t fucking know!”

“I don’t!” Buffy cried out, distressed at her boyfriend’s increasing hostility.

Giles quickly noticed the destructive glint in Angel’s eyes directed at his slayer. “Before we start making accusations, I think we need to get all the facts.”

“I’m not listening to this,” Angel growled, turning to stalk out of the library.

Buffy stepped towards the retreating vampire. “Angel, please!” she beseeched, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Angel paused, his back to her. Growling low in his throat he turned abruptly to face her. His eyes were hard with anger and pain. “Fine. Talk.”

“I don’t … I can’t …” Buffy looked up at her Watcher with large uncertain eyes. “Giles, what happened?”

“I think,” Giles began, directing his comment at Angel. “That anyone who knows Buffy knows she wouldn’t willingly mate herself to a vampire. Especially not a soulless one.”

Angel looked away from the Watcher’s hard gaze.

“Mate … what does that mean?”

Giles sighed, hating how vulnerable and confused Buffy looked. Willow and Xander waited for the Watcher’s answer with equal amounts of curiosity. “It’s a vampire ritual. An exchange of blood between two vampires, a few ceremonial words and then they’re basically bonded for the rest of their existence.”

Angel snorted softly. Giles glared at the vampire over Buffy’s head.

“But I … I’m not a vampire. Why would … how could I be a … mate?”

“The ritual can be done between a human and a vampire. It isn’t done often. I’ve only read of it once. But it’s possible.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “But I wouldn’t! Giles, you know I wouldn’t do that.”

Giles smiled gently. “I know, dear. I know you wouldn’t.”

Xander grimaced. “Of course you wouldn’t do that, Buff. Let a vamp drink from you and be bonded to them for life? Hell no.” He inwardly smiled at the brief look of hurt that passed over the Angel’s features.

“Spike.” The four humans turned to look at Angel. The vampire’s face was stony. “Spike did this.”

Giles sighed. “Angel …”

“He did!” The vampire hissed, his eyes jumping between yellow and brown. “That goddamned sonofabitch! I’ll kill him!” Angel ranted, now pacing. Vamping out he snarled, “I’ll kill him.” And with a burst of vampiric speed, he was gone.

--

Spike growled his way through another bag of O-negative. Bleedin’, buggerin’ Slayer. If he was of any right mind he’d be hightailing it for another state. Hell, if he was of any right mind he’d be well on his way to Europe. But he wasn’t. He was sitting on Angel’s couch, drinking Angel’s coagulated blood. Fuck.

Damn Slayer.

What the hell had she done to him?

After leaving the library Spike had no idea where he should go. Or what he should do. Thoughts and feelings, decipherable and indecipherable, ran through him at a dizzying rate. What had happened between him and the slayer in the library? Why did he feel that way when he looked at her? And why did he want to run back to her, grab hold of her and never let go?

It all came down to those damned Samduri demons and their damned curse. Somehow whatever they did implanted something inside him that made him feel certain things for a certain slayer. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Spike’s soul seemed to express disbelief at the vampire’s vehement denial, but Spike studiously ignored it.

Somehow, without knowing how he arrived, he found himself at Angel’s apartment. Stooping down Spike lifted the mat, and smirked when he found an extra key. Unimaginative blighter. Inside the apartment he was quick to follow his nose to the fridge and grab a couple bags of blood and warm them in the microwave. He blindly watched the blood turn round and round in the microwave. He couldn’t get her out of his head. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He could still smell her; picture her as she was in the library. Beautiful. Stunning. He’d never seen anything more gorgeous.

His brow furrowed. He tired to reconcile this magnificent picture with the slayer he’d met before. It was a given that she’d always interested him because of her slayer status. And in spite of her relationship with his poof of a sire, he had honestly been impressed with her. He’d studied her technique and found she was quite formidable, but not the best fighter he’d ever seen. However, after watching her he could see the undeniable talent that was straining against her young body. When she was older, and more experienced, he knew she’d surpass him, and every other demon. If she lived that long.

Why did the thought of her dying make his chest hurt?

Spike shook his head. What was happening to him? Did he actually care about the welfare of a slayer …? Taking the blood from the microwave he sat on Angel’s couch. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of her as a more than attractive girl when he first saw her at the Bronze. He’d be lying if he hadn’t been more than a little turned on by her shimmering hair, slim hips and suggestive dancing. She was beautiful. He realized that before, but in the library … when he looked at her … she was a goddess personified.

No. No, this wasn’t right. This was a mere flight of fancy. His goddess was Drusilla; he’d bled and sweated for her for over a hundred years – something like that couldn’t be tossed aside on a mere whim. He loved Drusilla, and she, well, cared for him after a fashion. It wasn’t her fault that half the time she wasn’t right in the head …

Angrily, Spike tossed a full bag of blood across the room. It landed with a satisfying smack against the wall, leaving behind a long blood trail as it slid to the floor. He couldn’t stand what he was feeling. Wanting to fuck the slayer, he could understand. Wanting to hold her was something he couldn’t accept. Standing, Spike began to prowl around Angel’s living room. He grabbed a vase and threw it to the floor. When the destruction didn’t relieve his rising aggressive tension he searched for something else to destroy.

Spike was delighting in breaking all Angel’s CD’s when someone crashed into the apartment. Spike wasn’t surprised. He’d felt him long before he made his entrance. Snapping one more CD in half, Spike rose to his feet with mock laziness. With a feral grin, Spike turned and came face-to-face with his grandsire.

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