Title: Secrets Don't Make Friends (Pt 9-Issues and Nakedness)
Author: DivaDelilah (divadelilah@aol.com)
Description: Set in late Season 4, after Faith has body switched and is in prison.
Adam isn't in play, Spike is working with the Scoobies reluctantly.
Disclaimer: I'm in college. The bank owns me. Joss, Mutant Enemy, and Fox own
all…I'm just daydreaming.
Distribution: Fanfiction.net, assorted lists, and anything I okay. (like you'd
want it!)
Feedback: Nothing gets me hotter than constructive criticism.
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Angel's vamp face morphed as he stared at his Childe pinning Buffy to the couch
and drinking from her. A great rumbling growl started in his chest, and Spike's
head shot up, his mouth smeared with blood. The crowd gathered behind Angel
in time to see him dive for Spike, who rolled himself and Buffy off the couch,
crouching in front of her protectively, ready to pounce if Angel came any closer.
His own territorial growl answered, uncaring that he was naked, that people
were staring as he glared at his Sire.
"Mine," he roared at Angel, who was approaching deceptively slowly.
"Look, Angelus, I don't know how you got out to bloody play, and how in
Lucifer's name you've got these people with you, but if you touch her, I will
kill every one of you." His body tensed for a fight and the yellow
eyes flashed in warning.
"This is going to be ugly, " Cordelia whispered. "Any of you
guys ever seen a vamp rumble? Like a real battle for territory? Just be glad
there are no axes in plain view."
Willow looked at Xander who looked at Giles. They didn't care about the rumble;
they were only concerned with Buffy, who was currently out cold on the carpet
behind Spike.
A small moan filtered up from behind Spike as Buffy blinked, stunned from the
sudden fall to the ground and slight blood loss. Her eyes tried to focus and
for a moment, she thought she had dreamed the whole episode with Spike, because
Angel was here. Then she realized…I'm naked! In front of everyone, including..Wesley!?!?
She scrambled for cover behind a chair, peeking over to see Angel charging toward
Spike full speed. "Wait!" she screamed, her head ringing for a second.
No one heard her in the fracas, the two vampires having form a mass of growling,
fang filled flesh in the center of the room. Clothing began ripping and the
smell of fresh blood permeated the air. The growls grew louder as the vampires
communicated animalistically.
To hell with what they see, she thought. Stomping up to the pile, she
grabbed Angel's shirt and yanked it away from Spike. "I said wait,
goddammit!" She tossed Angel toward the couch, and grabbed a blanket from
the chair, wrapping it around herself as she sat down on Spike's lap on the
other side of the room.
The jaws of everyone in the room dropped as Buffy wiped the blood from Spike
lips bringing her finger to his mouth to suck on, and hugging him, even in game
face, as he nuzzled at her neck. She held him close, listening to the soft,
possessive growls he was emitting unconciously, while he was calming down by
listening to her heartbeat. She raised her head and stared up at them defiantly,
her chin stuck out. "Just what the hell are you gaping at? And who do you
think you are, traipsing into my apartment, which was supposed to be
a secret," she glared at Angel, "and beating up on Spike?"
Spike finally lifted his head, his demon gone, and said, "Yeah! What the
bloody hell are you wankers doing here? Especially you, mate." He
glared hard at Angel, his eyes telegraphing his dislike.
Before anyone could answer, Angel was in front of Spike, crouching and glaring,
fangs and all. "Watch it, boy. She's mine, and always will be. And we just
stopped you from finally having that 'really good day', didn't we? I know all
the blood on your lips isn't from the fight, unlike the others. I can smell
it," he growled sotto voce.
Buffy pushed hard on Angel's chest, causing him to fall on his butt. Spike
buried his face in Buffy's shoulder, trying not laugh. "For your information,
Mr. Has No Right To Be So Overprotective, you're totally wrong…on both
accounts."
Angel's eyes met hers, then flickered to the fresh neck wound, feeling the
magick rise from it, smelling in the air what he should've known from Spike's
words. His Childe had claimed her! His Slayer. Spike had essentially
married Buffy in the vampire world. Angel stared at her in wonderment, and she
gave him a sort of lopsided smile as Spike grinned like an idiot. "You…you
… you let him. My god." He staggered backwards and slumped
against the couch, his hands covering his face.
"Excuse me? But the rest of us non-vampiric, non-mind reading sidekicks
would like to know what the hell is going on? Was Spike trying to kill
Buffy or not?" Xander asked impatiently.
The rest of the gang mumbled in agreement from behind Cordelia who had ushered
then all back at the beginning of the fight and was now watching Angel rub his
temples yet again.
"I know ! I know!" Anya said suddenly, waving her hand in the air.
"I know what's going on." Everyone stared her. "I told you I
hate when you do that," she mumbled self-consciously.
Xander patted her shoulder. "Come on honey, clue us in. I like dating
the smart girl."
"He claimed her. That's why Angel's pissed. Although, I'm fairly sure
you can't claim someone who's already claimed unless you do some big ceremony,
so I don't see how he did it unless… Well, she had to be consenting. But
it also means Angel couldn't have claimed her, because we can see he's
not exactly pleased with this," Anya rambled.
"He what?" the Watchers cried in unison.
"Why in the world would Spike claim Buffy? Whatever that is," Willow
piped up.
"Maybe because I bloody well love the chit, you nonces!" Spike burst
out in frustration. Why couldn't her damn friends and the poof stay out her
life for one brief, personal moment? They ruined the whole ritual for her.
Worse yet, there was a gnawing emptiness in Spike from the lack of a reciprocal
claim. And he was itching for fight because of it.
Buffy turned her head up to Spike, disbelief written all over her face. His
face softened, and he whispered something in her ear that only she could hear.
A bright grin flashed across her face and she burrowed into his embrace.
Angel raised his head at Spike. His eyes, still yellow, glared at his Childe.
"And what make you think I believe that for second? I remember what Angelus
told you about killing Buffy. You loved Dru for well over a century, and yet
you never made even a passing reference to claiming her. How do I know you're
not doing this just to get back at me or to get close to Buffy so you can kill
her?"
"If I wanted to kill her, I've had ample opportunity for the past six
months, you git!! I could have slit her throat in her sleep every single night
when I crept in after dark. Or drained her twice over in the past hour! Why
would I wait until everyone knew my intentions and draw a damn mob that would
hunt me until I died? And why would I even bother claiming her?"
"To thumb your nose in my face like you have since the day you were sired
Spike. I took Dru; you take Buffy. I know how you work, boy," Angel spat
out.
Buffy stared out Angel incredulously before grinding out, "Do you want
to know the worst thing about you, Angel? The very worst thing? Not that
you break hearts, or lose your soul, or leave. It's that you never stay gone.
You wanted me to have a normal life, all the trappings. News flash: I'm the
Slayer. I never get to have those things; I'm probably sterile anyway. Normal
men can't handle me or my job. And who wants a white picket fence if vamps are
going to tear it down every night? I can't even have a dog because God knows
what the whacko did to her last puppy… and she isn't even the sickest game
in town. What if normal doesn't work out? Should I be alone until some vamp
has his 'really good day'? I'm living on a deadline as it is."
The room stayed silent while Buffy caught her breath, tears falling copiously.
Spike wrapped in his arms, rocking her, whispering, "It's okay, baby. Spike
will take care of it. It'll all be okay." He stood up carrying her to the
armchair and curled up in it with her on his lap, clinging to his chest for
dear life. Then his gaze turned on Angel and the rest of them.
"I think, perhaps, we should continue this discussion later, yes? We'll
stay here until sundown tomorrow. You lot sod off until then. Find shelter,
Sire." His eyes caught the stake on the floor. "If she's hurt when
you come back, you can use it on me. I'll even stand still and let Harris do
it."
Angel sighed and looked at Giles, who shrugged. "I told you she does what
she damned well pleases. I certainly never taught her to let vampires bite her.
Even poisoned ones," he added.
The elder vampire's shoulder sagged, and he got up, placing the stake on the
table. "Tomorrow. Sundown. You'd better still be here, Childe," he
said sibilantly, getting up and stalking towards the door.
As they filed out quietly, Cordelia peeped her head back in and addressed Spike.
"Okay, so I'm really wishing I had told Angel about this vision now. But
tomorrow… could you guys have clothes on, Spike?" She flashed him
a smile, and darted out the door towards the rumbling engine outside.
Spike shook his head in surprise then grinned ear to ear. At least someone
believed him.
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