Chapter 8

Neville reminded me of Giles. He was all researchy and fond of long words. Of course, Giles didn't have small marble-like eyes that stuck out on short stalks from his scaly face. And Giles wouldn't have been seen dead in purple jogging pants and a shiny green shell jacket. But then with a long scaly tail I guess you dress for comfort.

Spike explained what had happened to us and some of the background while Neville busied himself making a pot of tea. It seems Spike had met Neville in a demon coffee shop renowned for its range of teas! Go figure!

Neville handed me a mug of sweet smelling tea.

"Touch of honey. Manuka if you can get it. Makes all the difference if you don't over do it," he informed me.

We were sitting in a room lined with bookcases and display cabinets that reminded me of the Magic Shop back in the day.

"So," Neville began, "you're the original Slayer, then? I'm honoured to have you in my home."

"Thank you. But I'm not exactly the 'original' Slayer 'cause she'd be like a bazillion years old by now. But I was the only Slayer, before all the others were called ten years ago."

"Yes, I'm sorry. How very imprecise of me. I should have said that you are the longest lived slayer in history. And did you know that you are the only slayer, in all the history of slayers, not to have carried out her duties alone? I mean before you conjured up a whole army of slayers. You had friends to support you. No slayer before you had ever done that." His eyeballs wobbled as he dipped their stalks towards me. Ew! "You are talked about in awe throughout the demon world, you know. And of course you are most beautiful, my dear, if my eyes don't deceive me, which they never do." He waggled his eyes some more.

"Really?" I grinned trying hard not to look at his bobbing eyes.

"Aw, don't tell her that Nev. Her head's big enough already!"

"Spike, you know I always give credit where it's due. And besides, this lovely lady deserves the compliment. Brains, brawn and beauty; a rare combination! Now, my dears, to business; you want to know what has happened to the both of you?"

"Yep. Please." I answered.

"Of course, my dear. When Spike telephoned to say you were coming over I took the liberty of checking my sources. Incorrect or incomplete data can cause untold difficulties, even fatalities, as demon history tells us time and again. I was certain I knew the answer but I do like to ensure total accuracy in matters of this importance."

Neville looked pointedly at the both of us to underline the gravity of what he was saying. Unfortunately one eye looked at me while the other swivelled on its stalk to fix on Spike. It was all kinds of unnerving!

"So you know what's happened to Buffy and me?"

"Well, yes. But Spike, I have to say I'm surprised that you wouldn't know about this. You are an intelligent vampire with years of experience and you are well-versed in the morphology and physiology of slayers."

"Ew!"

Neville gave me a strange look, fortunately with both eyes this time.

"Yes, a-hem, well, as I was saying," he continued. Giles much? "Perhaps, Spike, you neglected the study of the haemoneurology of slayers as it relates to demon neurophysiology?"

"Maybe I did, Nev, if I knew what you were talkin' about." Spike's leg was twitching with frustration but he managed to grace his friend with a smile.

"You ignore research at your peril, Spike, my friend. Remember when you thought Xizarb venom couldn't harm you? I had to send away to Nepal for the anti-venom. You owe your unlife to UPS, you do realise that?"

"Yeah, so you told me several dozen times. Just didn' plan on the bastard getting' close enough to bite me. But can we just cut to the chase, mate? What's this reflection malarkey?"

Neville nodded and declared, "Biohaematology!" He attempted to come across as triumphant, but with his eyes looking in two different directions at once, it was a tough look to pull off.

"Um, Neville, sweetie, I'm not up with the 'ologies' and stuff. Could you 'splainy in words a slayer could understand?" I looked suitably apologetic.

"Of course, my dear, forgive me. It is just to do with your blood. The blood of both of you."

"How so, mate?" Spike asked. "I mean, blood and vampires, kinda goes with the territory, so what gives?"

"It's quite simple. As part of the siring process you exchanged blood, yes?"

We both nodded. I wanted to say, 'well, duh!' but that seemed impolite. He was trying to help after all.

"Well, with you both having special powers, which incidentally herald from the same root source, which if you trace the Mitochondrial DNA back into Neolithic times you can see where the …"

"Nev?" Spike bought him back to the point.

"Ah yes, well, your blood, that's the blood of you both, carries the DNA for those uncommon powers. Spike, when you imbibed the Slayer's blood in it's entirety with her willing co-operation, you absorbed some of her attributes, such as her strength and her ability to see herself in mirrors, go out in the sun, and so forth."

"He can go out in proper sun, like in California?" I had to know.

"Yes, yes, of course." My heart leapt to hear that.

"Now, to continue: When this lovely young lady drank your blood, Spike, as part of her siring, she absorbed some of your attributes; vampire strength, heighten senses, fangs and so forth, as you might expect with any siring.

"Now usually a sired mortal would also acquire a fatal reaction to sunshine, a lack of reflection, and all the usual vampire encumbrances. But having such a quantity of slayer blood in your system, Spike, you acted as a filter, as it were, so that those aspects of your existence that would be negative for a slayer where not transmitted to her. In effect, the slayer blood has mixed with your blood and only the positive elements have been retained. It's quite a common process in nature; retaining good traits while losing unhelpful ones, although, of course, it usually takes generations to accomplish. You know, Darwin and so forth.

"I should stress that this cannot occur if the siring is an act of domination by the vampire. This enhanced transference of skills and attributes only happens when the exchange of preternaturally enriched blood is desired by both parties." He gave a knowing look with each eye which made me feel all kinds of queasy.

Spike ran his hands through his hair, straightening the tiny curls that had started to form. I smiled to myself; he was incredibly handsome, despite his furrowed brow. I knew his concern was for me, not for himself.

"I had no idea, Nev. This isn't what I expected. I just thought Buffy would become a bog standard vampire. Well no, she couldn't be 'bog standard' anything but I thought she would be a vampire and just still be essentially herself, her being the Slayer, an' all. Well, I hoped that would be the case. I guess I had faith in Buffy's insistence that her personality wouldn't change. I trusted her faith and my knowledge of just how stubborn she can be when she wants to be."

He shot me a grin then turned back to the shell-suited Giles.

"Nev, mate. What does this mean? For us? I've no experience of this. Hell, I had no idea this could happen."

"Well, it does lead to a very powerful Slayer / Vampire tag team, so to speak." Neville smiled, displaying teeth that really needed veneers. "This, of course, is why such couplings are so frowned upon, even in today's enlightened times. Other vampires are wary of the creation of this powerful, um, hybrid, if you will. It is rare to find references to this phenomenon even in the ancient literature. It's as if they wanted to bury the very notion. Oh, and of course, a vampire and a Slayer? Hardly firm friends in the normal scheme of things!

"You needn't worry though Spike. And you, young lady," his eyes swayed in my direction; my stomach swayed with them. "You do not need to be concerned. All is well with you both. But let me caution you: This is not something to be taken lightly. This brings responsibilities, my friends. You must wield your powers with care and discretion. But I know you will, my dears. Yes, you will, of that I am certain."

Neville folded his thin arms and his tail across his shiny green top and looked very pleased with himself, his eyes swinging backwards and forwards between Spike and me, causing me for one, to feel more than slightly bilious. I presumed Spike was used to this wobbly eyeball thing.

As Neville's words sunk in, we just stared back in, well, confusion and amazement just doesn't seem to cover it really.

Neville continued, "And should you two decide to make it official and, you know, erm, claim one another," did he really blush? Blushing scales? Is that even possible? "Well then, you two would be pretty much invincible; even greater physical strength, mental links between the two of you and a degree of ESP, emotion-reading of others as it were. Yes, formidable!"

He winked; one eye at me, one at Spike.

"Er, Nev, mate? Is this shindig a permanent thing or will we lose this over time?"

"Oh quite permanent, Spike, everything I have read is quite clear about that. Can't be reversed. You won't feel the full effects for a few days as the DNA imprints itself but there's no going back. Oh, and if you should go the whole hog with claiming each other you will, of course, become even more difficult to kill. Beheading would be the only way really, and they're doing great things with microsurgery these days so …"

To punctuate his statement, Neville spread his hands and tail, and his eyes too.

I felt a bit giddy, and not just from Neville's divergent eyeballs. This was a lot to take in and I was getting really hungry again.

"Spike, my friend," Neville began again. "Why don't you take Miss Buffy home? I daresay I have given you quite a lot of food for thought and I believe your young lady is hungry. Oooh, a pun!" He chuckled at his unintentional joke. At least his broad toothy smile afterwards suggested that the metallic grating noise he had made was his version of a laugh.

He continued, "Oh, yes, I see your childe is very hungry indeed."

At my raised eyebrows, Neville smiled and explained, "I'm part Empath Demon, my dear." Then he winked in that disconcerting way of his.

Back at Spike's apartment we both raided his fridge for the food from yesterday's aborted dinner. I felt badly that I had been so dismissive last night of the trouble he had gone to with the meal, but I had been so nervous I doubt I could have eaten anything then. Now I couldn't understand what my problem had been.

The food was yummy, even though it was cold and I realised that the tasty food at The Lodge was Spike's doing. I savoured every mouthful and told Spike exactly how grateful I was to him for making such an effort just for me.

When we had both eaten our fill, we adjourned, me to the sofa, Spike to the easy chair, with mugs of fresh coffee.

"I'll try to keep my drink in the cup this time", I joked.

"You spill anything and it'll be you on your hands and knees cleaning up."

"Mmmm, hands and knees: sounds interesting! But, cleaning up: not so much!"

"You offering, pet, 'cause I gotta tell you, you're playing with fire, little girl."

I shot him a flirty smile and sipped my coffee with exaggerated elegance.

A contented silence stretched between us. I was sure Spike was mulling over the last 24 hours just the same as I was. Both our lives had been turned around and I hadn't expected Spike to be so drawn into my problem other than as the agent for my change.

"Spike", I began, "I'm sorry, truly sorry."

"Hey, pet, s'okay. The Napoleon cleaned up, no problem. No stain, not even a mark to show anything was spilt."

"Um, n-no, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I honestly didn't think that turning me would affect you too. Otherwise I would never have asked you. I feel so bad about this, Spike. I'm so, so sorry."

Suddenly he was beside me on the sofa. He reached out, placed my coffee mug on the floor and took my hands in his.

"Buffy, you didn't know. Neither of us did. But if you think I regret this in any way then you're crazier than Elwood P Dowd on a bender during the full moon."

"Who?"

"I can't believe you said that! How can you, an American bought up in the age of video and wall-to-wall cable, not know 'Harvey'?"

"Oh, what, um, who? The guy who cleaned up in 'Pulp Fiction'?"

"I can see I'm gonna have to educate you in your own culture, pet!" Spike smirked and I suddenly felt eager to study for the first time in my life.

Seriously though, luv," he continued, holding my gaze with those wickedly blue eyes, "neither of us expected this. Maybe I should have. Like Neville said, I thought I was an expert on all things Slayer. Looks like I didn't know shit when the chips were down. But I wouldn't change a thing, well, except for you having the big 'C', an' dying an' what have you. But this change that has happened to us, well, I can't regret that, Buffy."

I was blushing, but I was pretty sure it didn't show.

"You're not mad at me for turning your life upside down?"

I knew he wasn't, but I still had a great lump of guilt balled up inside my stomach. I had blown into Spike's life like a Kansas hurricane, bringing mayhem and turmoil in my wake. And while being able to go out in the sun of the non-Arctic variety might be a welcome side-effect, Spike never had a say in the matter; it was forced on him, like the Initiative's chip or falling out of a sparkly gem in Angel's office. I didn't want to be responsible for imposing something else on him. I knew only too well how it felt to be powerless when some big change gets thrown at you whether you want it or not. Being the Chosen One: a case in point!

Spike was staring deep into my eyes, like he was trying to see my toes from the inside. He squeezed my hands and took a deep breath. 'Note to self: need to ask Spike how to breathe.'

"Buffy, you always turned my life upside down, from the first moment I saw you in the Bronze. An' yeah, there've been things you've done that I could have wished you hadn't. 'M sure you think the same 'bout me. But this? No, I'm not mad at you. How could I be? This is a gift, luv. Not for me so much. I've lived in darkness for over a century. I'm used to it. But you? When you told me what you planned I grieved for you. You belong in the sunshine, pet, not the dark. For you to have to live an eternity in the shadows, well….. that was almost more than I could bear. So, no, luv, I'm not mad at you. Could never be."

I smiled at him. I wanted to tell him how much his words meant to me; how grateful I was to him. For everything. For helping me when no-one else could. But I couldn't find my voice.

Panic rose in me. I needed to show my gratitude yet my power of speech had fled like Cordelia at a garage sale. So I did the only thing I could: I leant across and kissed him.

Pulling my hands gently away from his, I hugged him to me, hoping to pour all my gratefulness, all my love for him, into my embrace.

"Buffy, luv? I know. I can feel your feelings, pet. Don't need thanks. Just need you."

Our lips touched again briefly before I broke contact reluctantly to satisfy my curiosity.

"You can feel my feelings?"

"Well, er, yeah, the really strong ones. You should be able to feel mine too, with practise. It's part of the siring deal. Not as strong as a claim but powerful feelings can make themselves known right enough."

"Oh! Um, okaaay! So you know I'm sorry for the way things were between us before and I'm sorry I got you involved in all this, that you had this kinda imposed, and I'm really grateful to you and … "

"It's okay, Buffy. I know." He cut me off.

But I needed to finish. "And that I'm not sorry how this has turned out. That if I had a choice of a cancer-free living kinda life, or an undead life with you, then this is where, how, I'd want to be."

"You would?" For all he said he knew my feelings, his hesitant, questioning look told me he was struggling to believe me. I couldn't blame him.

"Spike," I began softly, idly making patterns on his arm with a finger while I forced myself to hold his gaze. "I love you Spike. Never stopped loving you even when I was sure you were dust; not even when I heard you were back and wanted nothing to do with me. But I'm not the same person I was before. That girl died in Sunnydale and is buried along with the ghost of your ashes in the crater there. The woman before you loves you unconditionally. All of you. Can only exist with you. Well, kinda literally as it happens, but you get my drift. I LOVE YOU, William, Spike, The Bloody! Deal!"

For a moment he looked, well, stunned. Then a broad smile brightened his face and he chuckled.

"Buffy, luv, you do an old man's unbeatin' heart good, do'you know that?"

I beamed back at him. It was now or never.

"Um, Spike?"

He fixed me with a stare. "Y-y-yes?"

"Do me another favour?" I batted my eyelashes, in what I hoped was a seductive way but which may have come over as comic because Spike chuckled again.

"What now, Slayer?" he asked, laughter twinkling behind eyes that reminded me of the sea off Naples in the winter sun.

"Claim me?"

"Eh?"

"Claim me? I repeated, in a more serious tone.

"Wha…. Why? Why would you ask that? The laughter had vanished as if the sun had slipped behind a rain cloud.

I'd misread everything! Oh God! When I said before about preferring to be undead with him, he didn't say anything against it. I guess I suck at reading signals. Hey, I suck at relationships. I felt foolish and bereft all at once. "I, um, I thought you wouldn't mind spending the rest of your unlife with me. I'm sorry, my bad. I just assumed tha…."

His lips met mine and stopped my frantic retreat. I lost the thread of what I had been saying as my brain went into free fall to the mantra of "Lips of Spike".

Then he had stopped kissing me and was staring at me with that 'I can see your toes' look again.

"Why do you want to be claimed, luv?"

I waited for my toes to reply but when they didn't I murmured tentatively, "Because I love you? Because I don't want to ever be apart from you again?"

"You asking, or telling, luv?"

"Well, I'm telling, of course!" I heard myself snap. I reigned in my insecurity and tried again. "I do love you, but I don't want you to feel pressured or anything. And it sounded like you weren't too keen on the idea – and that's okay 'cause I mean I turn up here and throw all this at you and …."

He sighed and turned his head away from me. That was it. I'd pushed too far, too soon. God, I'd ruined it again.

"Buffy, don't do this." His voice was chillingly quiet.

"Wha…. Do what?" I was confused, hurt, oh, and did I mention, confused?

He shifted away from me to the other end of the sofa. Now his whole body was turned away. Didn't have to be a linguistics expert in body language to interpret that. This was a signal even I couldn't misread.

His voice sounded very far away. "Don' say something you don' mean, or you think I want to hear, or you think sounds a good idea in the euphoria of your reprieve from your illness."

I couldn't reply because I was still processing his words.

He continued, "Even in my wildest dreams, those dreams where I drowned in your sunshine, I never held out any hope that we would become claimed partners. It's as rare as hen's teeth and it's the ultimate declaration of a couple's love for one another. Claimed vampires are bound to one another for eternity. You, being my childe, you can still go where you like, do what you want, when you want. We'll always be connected, but as sire and childe, nothing more.

"When I daydreamed about you, about us, it was never about an eternity together. Not even for your lifetime as a regular couple. I knew that if you ever came to regard me with anything but distain you would never be able to really love me, to see beyond my being a vampire, beyond my past.

"And as much as it may seem a fun idea to you now, in the morning you will regret it and it will be too late. This is just the effect of being sired, Buffy. You'll think differently once you have had a chance to think seriously about this. "

Well, that made me find my voice. I jumped up and in one swift movement I was standing in front of him, my hand stinging from the slap I had given him across his cheek. 'Way to go, girl. Thought you promised yourself you'd never hit him again.'

"Spike, you don't get to make my decisions for me, or make assumptions about how I feel. As far as you being a vampire, well, hey, guess what? So am I now! And, no, this has nothing to do with being sired. It hasn't changed who I am; how I think. The only difference that you siring me has made is," I started counting on my fingers, "1) I don't have cancer anymore; 2) I feel a deep link to you, which, FYI, I'm kinda enjoying, 3) I feel happy like I've never been before, 4) um, well there's no 4 but…"

"You're happy? You don't mind being linked to me?" His incredulity was heartbreakingly palpable. I felt it inside me and I found myself sending out, I don't know quite how to explain but, comforting vibes, I guess.

"Don't interrupt!" I barked, more forcefully than I intended.

"And as for your past," I continued, "Yours died with you in Sunnydale. I'm still trying to atone for mine where you're concerned. And yeah, before you say it, slapping you – not so much of the good on the 'making amends' front. But in my defence I was mad that you think that you know what I think. If you see what I mean."

He was looking at me with that lop-sided look of his but I couldn't make out if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"So, I'll make it as clear as I can, Spike. I love you! And the only way I won't get all claimy with you is if you don't want to. I can wait if you aren't sure and you want time to think it over. I know this is a big deal for vampires and I know you and Drusi..…, well, I know you've never claimed anyone before. I don't want to pressure you but I need you to know that I want this. It's not a spur of the moment thing. It's not because I'm confused or because I've only just become a vampire and the novelty hasn't worn off. I may not have lived as long as you but I do know my own mind. I've had 10 years to think about who I really am without having to do the slayery thing. And cancer has a way of focusing the mind perfectly, believe me. So I know what I'm asking. I know what I want."

Spike was shaking his head. "I don't doubt that you genuinely want this, Buffy. But I don't know if you fully understand what claiming actually means, how irreversible it is. If we claim each other, Buffy, we will be bound together forever. Or at least until one of us kicks the bucket, then the other will shuffle off too. There is no divorce with this, luv. It's a 'one time only' deal. No going back. You really want that?"

Now I could read his expression, and I could hear it in his voice. I could feel it somewhere in my mind, or somewhere in my gut. I wasn't sure which. I suddenly felt all insightful: It was his insecurity showing; insecurity that I had had a part in causing.

"I'm not a child, Spike. I know exactly what a claim entails. I know I've never been much of a researchy girl, but some things you just have to learn as a Slayer. You couldn't be around Giles and not be lectured on vampire law, demonology and all that stuff. It doesn't scare me. Actually the idea thrills me. These years since Sunnydale have been the worst of my life because you weren't with me. I love you. I don't want to spend another moment without you. In fact, an eternity with you doesn't sound nearly long enough.

"Now if you don't want to be tied to a flaky ex-Slayer, with poor impulse control and a shoe collection in four major world cities, then I can respect that. But don't decide on the basis of what you think is best for me. 'Cause if you do, so help me, I'll call you 'Angel'!"

His answer was to pull me down onto his lap and soundly kiss me!

"You sure?" he asked as our lips parted.

"Yes, Spike. I want to spend eternity with you, if you'll have me."

"Do you have to ask, luv? I love you so much and to be linked to you through a claim is more than I could ever have hoped for. More than I deserve."

"Okay. Mister! No more talk of deserving. I think it's time we just did what feels right to us – what's right for us."

"Yeah, pet, I get that. So d'you wanna do this then?"

"You betcha!" I'm sure my face looked just as goofy as his. I was happy. For the first time in my existence I felt truly happy. Not just content but heart-burstingly happy!

Spike lifted me up in his arms as he stood and moved towards his bedroom.

"'S'now okay for you, pet?"

"Can you make it sooner?"

FIN

Hope you enjoyed this little story. Thank you for reading and a big sloppy kiss to those who have reviewed. xxx