Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…

XXXVII

"Riley!" Buffy was a bullet in motion- but there were actual bullets in the gun, and one zipped past her arm, a stinging sear that ripped the lycra of her clinging shirt and the skin under it.

"Don't move, Buffy. Sorry about the dramatics, everyone." Riley gave a sickly smile, something unbalanced in it, even though his words sounded sincere. "I figured out a few things while I was flat on my back- my heart getting operated on- and then cut open again." He scowled briefly at Buffy. The dark look evaporated. "Sorry, honey. I know it's not your fault."

"Riley. You need to leave," Giles said evenly. He moved slowly, but his thoughts were screaming at breakneck speed through a thousand different paths in his mind. If only Riley had arrived five seconds later, Buffy would have been escorted into the kitchen or upstairs, they could have gotten the drop on him. If Buffy knew what he'd been about to share, that she was immortal, maybe she would use different fighting moves, but who knew? If she knew that Spike wasn't likely anything beyond immortal, meaning likely to be killed by this madman- Oh no. He had to get Riley away from both of them, all of them. "Riley, you don't look well. Let me-"

The gun jumped alarmingly toward Giles' chest. "Stay there. I don't want anyone to get hurt," he said firmly. His eyes roved around the group he'd once considered friends. They were all enthralled, bespelled, duped by a vampire who'd learned to play niceley, a long game of pretend- thanks to him, thanks to Maggie's work. They made Maggie out to be such a monster, but really, here they all were- planning a party (from the second's snippet he'd overheard) with this mass-murderer, this unholy, undead thing. "I don't want to hurt anyone- but I'll do what I have to. Buffy-"

"Riley. You're sick. You shouldn't be here, you should be resting, getting better," Buffy's voice was the same slow, calming tone Giles' had attempted. She'd dealt with her fair share of wounded wild beasts before. Silence was preferable, but not when they have a gun pointed at your whole family. Warmth cloaked her with one thought. Spike would be okay. But- no, he wouldn't. Spike would not be okay if she died.

"I know, I know, I'm not in great shape." He looked at himself with a scornful laugh. "Certainly not as powerful as one of your undead toyboys."

Spike kept silent. He was waiting. Finn didn't see him as a threat. He was chipped. A blow toward a human would render him flat on his back. Captain Cardboard didn't know that he'd get back up a million times to protect his girl. My wife. That bastard shot my wife. My perfect, beautiful girl…

"We can settle this without any problems. I know you're sick. I know- I know you were trying to get help, that's all. They confused you. They made you desperate. Unstable."

"I didn't storm in here and shoot at people," Buffy retorted tightly as he approached her, eyes and gun sweeping.

"Spike. You just need to say a couple of words and we're all good. Then Buffy and I can leave and we'll figure out how to stop him, together." Riley addressed the vampire first, then turned his head to look at the gaping Slayer.

Everyone was exchanging the same sort of horrified and puzzled glances. Riley felt his temper tick up another notch from its barely held fury. "Stop looking at me like that!" he ground out.

"Like what?" Buffy whispered, rising slowly, walking toward him.

"Slayer-" Spike's voice was sharp and soft, meant for her ears. He had to speak. He didn't trust Finn, couldn't let her get closer to a madman, and there she was walking into the literal line of fire.

"Like I'm crazy. I'm not crazy! I don't need their drugs and their pills and their psycho-babble!" The gun jumped in twitchy hands.

"Funny thing for a psychology TA to say, don'tcha think, Riley?" Xander's voice asked, a higher, raspier version of his normal jovial bluff. He discreetly nudged Anya behind him.

"Demons. All of them. They manipulate and they kill, but I'm the one who's nuts for wanting you-" his arm shot out and snagged Buffy's wrist, twisting it with unexpected strength, "to stop associating with them?"

Fatal flaw, Xander thought cockily to himself, sure that any second Buffy would flip Mr. Cuckoo's Nest flat on his regulation rear.

Buffy didn't. The gun was aiming straight at Spike's head now, where he was frozen in mid-rise.

"Do you see?" Riley crowed in triumph. "Look! Look at her!"

"What are we supposed to be seeing?" Tara demanded in a hushed voice. Behind her, Willow's fingers were flexing. She could tell her girlfriend was ready to cast something, she just didn't know what- and she didn't know if it would be wise. Now Buffy was in his space. Whatever Willow intended to use had to be perfection, had to be surgically quick and clean.

Riley looked at her and Willow with newfound suspicion. "You're witches. Witches who dated a werewolf."

"Technically, just one of them did that," Xander spoke up, loudly. Riley's eyes didn't move toward him. Shit.

"I think you're all infected. Influenced. You can't see it. You'd do anything she tells you to, and she-" Riley looked worriedly at Buffy, "is under the vampire's spell. She could break my arm. Hell, she already broke a couple ribs. A heart. What's another limb, huh, baby?" When she didn't answer, he moved his finger more firmly onto the trigger. The safety was already off. "Spike won't even die if I put a bullet in his head." Buffy's chest started to fall and rise in double time. "But you don't attack me- because you're trying to figure out if you're faster than the bullet and-" he nudged her shot shoulder harder than he meant to, making her wince slightly, "we already found out that you're not."

"Then shoot me and get on with it," Spike stood up fast, waiting for him to fire, and that would give her the moment she needed, the time to attack, to throw him, whatever.

She didn't take the opening, watching in fright as the gun tracked him but didn't fire.

"If I shoot you, you can't say it. So, I don't need this for you, Spike," Riley waved the gun far too carelessly for a sane soldier, "I need it to stop her, because I know. I know how sick she is," his voice was almost pitying as his hand slowly began to release her arm. "I know that she'll stop me from doing it."

"Doing what?" Giles moved backward every time the man's eyes stopped roving. He was almost to the weapons' chest that sat by the entrance to his kitchen.

"Don't move anymore. Anyone. Everyone holds very still until Spike says Buffy is free."

"I am free!" Buffy spat out. "I'm not under Dracula's hold anymore, Riley, Spike cured me. Okay? Now, now- I'm not sick. So we can leave together and we can go hunt Dracula down. That's what you said we should do, and you were right."

Riley looked at her quizzically. "Wow."

"Hm?" Buffy took his hand now, gently trying to lead him back to the door.

"So sad. I can tell you're lying, just because you're agreeing with me."

A lot of things happened at once. Riley gave Buffy a deeply saddened stare, and then shoved her hard. Willow screeched something and a shot fired down, into the floor. Spike lunged and Finn got him under the chin with the hand holding the gun. As Spike was reeling from the zaps that cascaded in his brain, he was aware of his protective pendant ripping off and sliding, torn by the other man's broad arm. Then, the cold muzzle pressing right under his jaw. A bullet right there- close range- head might not be salvageable. Might be dust in minutes. He held still.

"No! Riley, please!" Buffy screamed as she scrambled to a sitting position.

"You beg for me not to hurt him. Wouldn't even kill him, but…" Finn shook his head again, puzzled. "It'll be okay, Buffy. I'm going to get you out of this."

"I am out of it! I'm out of this. Whatever I'm doing is my choice!"

Willow bent slowly and caught hold of the black cord, the sickening feeling of dread invading her further as she realized he didn't even have the protection of the pendant anymore. It wouldn't have stopped a bullet. Her spell had missed its mark as Riley moved and now there was a patch of frost on Giles' wall, totally useless. If only Spike didn't have his chip, he-

I could do the spell. It might hurt him.

Riley's definitely going to hurt him.

I'd have to do it without Tara.

Her nose began to drip.

Riley didn't notice. No one but Spike noticed. He looked up and met Willow's eyes and nodded as best he could, head ringing and the arm under his neck tightening, jabbing the gun in deeper.

"Your choice? Your choice to what?"

"Not- not to-" Buffy's lips spasmed. What was the right answer to give to such a wrong questioner? To say it was her choice not to be with him might send him over the edge- another one. He might start shooting at everyone, anyone, and she could save some of her friends- but she couldn't save them all.

He impatiently snarled, "Right. So much freewill you can't manage a simple sentence. Spike, you're going to let her go."

"Not the- one with- a gun -on her, mate," he managed to speak through Finn's choke hold and the gun preventing his mouth from opening all the way. He nodded more desperately at Willow. Come on, Red. Do whatever it is you wanna do.

"You're free from Dracula- but only because another vampire took over for him. This one, this 'chipped puppy', isn't that what you like to call him?"

Buffy's eyes flashed a tortured apology to her husband. "He's chipped and he can't hurt me. But you- killing something harmless, that hurts me. That hurts how I think of you. If you think I'll come back to you because I-"

"Right now, you can't possibly come back to me, I get that."

"You do?" Anya was startled into speaking.

"Of course she can't. Her brain is controlled by her "master." He owns her. Just like Dracula collects wives, Spike collects Slayers, right? Isn't that what you told me, Buffy?"

"That was- a long time ago. He's not -"

"-going to add you to his collection. No more vampires in your head. I'm going to make sure. Starting now. Spike. Let her go."

"Okay. Go. Run. Run, Slayer. Now." Spike meant every syllable. Get out of here and he'll follow you, or he won't. Doesn't matter. If he gets a hold of you… Oh God, please don't make me think about that…

"I'm not leaving. There. See? He's not my master or whatever you said." Buffy stood firm. "I don't obey him."

"He's not doing too well on the obeying, either."

"This shouldn't surprise you," Giles said brusquely, trying a new tactic, moving toward the unbalanced young man and his catch.

"Don't. You stay right where you are, no one moves. I know you would have let yourself become a vampire to save her. To 'service' her. You probably would do it anyway, just so she'd let you put your hands and your mouth where you've always wanted!" Riley snarled at Giles, gun flashing from Spike's face to aim at the older man and then tucking his arm back into the vampire's neck, this time at the base of his skull, the brainstem. "Decapitation by bullet. It can happen. Not usually with something of this caliber, but I have enough bullets left to do the job. So. Spike, unless you want me to get the chip out," he ignored Willow's sudden gasp, "along with the rest of your brain, let her go for real. Take it back. Whatever you did to undo Dracula's hold- you have the power to release her. If you can't, then it ends when you're dead. Maybe it's just safer to-"

"No. No, I- I'll do that. She's safe enough now. Right, Rupert?"

Giles hesitated. Had this ever happened before? Would ownership 'revert' to Dracula in some way? "I-" Was it safer to lie or tell the truth? There were enough of them here. They could surely overpower him. "I'm- I'm not sure what would happen. The hold was broken by Spike, but- if you killed Spike, it's entirely possible Buffy would revert to Dracula's control. Right now, the mental link between them is severed, but if you act rashly- you could undo Buffy's freedom."

"Free? You call this free? Look at her- she's not even hiding it." Riley shook his head in disgust, eyes flashing to Buffy's form, her tight lycra summer shirt and cropped jeans, bites - multiple ones- for all to see. "She's a chew toy. You don't even realize how warped this is. None of you do. You're all- tainted."

"Then you and I should go. Away." Buffy reached for his hand, but didn't move from her seat. Leave Spike. Leave him. Leave him. Leave him.

Riley hesitated. He wanted to believe her.

He realized he never would again. He realized he would never trust her, as long as Spike or Angel existed, just waiting to get their taste of the ultimate prize- a taste of Slayer. He looked at her pleading face with equal longing, regret and frustration slowly taking over when he realized the pleading wasn't for his benefit.

She just wants to save her precious monster.

The gun clicked. Giles lunged. Xander pushed Anya down into a crouch, his body over hers. Tara hissed "Somnus" and Buffy demanded Riley's attention with a hoarse shout of his name as her graceful body went airborne, leaping over the coffee table to reach his side.

Giles fell with a crash, apparently asleep. Riley's eyes fixed with seething hatred on Tara- but only for a second. Buffy was in his face, inches from it in fact, but she wasn't attacking him. Her eyes were wide and genuinely frightened. He'd never seen her look like that. Ever.

She never cared about herself, or even me, as much as she does for this monster.

"More gunshots are going to attract the neighbors. Come on, let's- let's get out of here, that's all you want, right? I'm free to go. Spike doesn't own me. He can give me all the orders he wants and I'd just laugh them off. But you don't look good, Baby. You're sick. You're sick and you were right all along." Her hand gently found the arm not attached to the hand holding the gun. "Come on. Leave with me and let's take care of this, together."

Spike knew she was playing Finn. Knew it absolutely, but her words made his heart contort in agony, demon raging to be free to get his mate and lover back, his Kindred, his precious. Any time, Red, any time...

Riley slowly let her hand come down to his- and then he shoved her down and back hard, the backs of her knees hitting the coffee table, her head cracking the corner of it with a flesh-muffled crack. She sat up slowly, the fear in her eyes magnified as he pushed Spike down and bent to stare at her. "I'm not someone you can thrall, Buffy. Come on. You like to gamble and if it doesn't work, it's just another vampire I have to exterminate later. Spike, tell her she's free. Say the words."

"Spike, no. Once you do that, he's going to kill you," Anya hissed, heart in her throat, but more scared to watch her new friend die than to face death herself.

"Maybe I should kill you, too, huh? Ex-demon? What makes you 'ex'? Your human shell? Spike looks pretty human, too."

Xander tried his best "talking down the bully voice. "Riley, listen-"

"And you. He controlled you, too. What did Spike promise you if you help him keep the Slayer, huh, Xander? Is he going to offer you immortality without a side of flies?" His once handsome face sneered, an ugly, mocking twist. "Say it, Spike. Now."

Spike spoke through clenched teeth, unwilling to be cowed, unwilling to risk the death of her loved ones, hell, his loved ones. "Not unless she tells me that's what she wants. You can shoot me full of holes, Finn, but you'll never really 'call the shots.' Eats you up, doesn't it?"

Riley began to depress the trigger and only stopped when Buffy's gasping voice hit his ear. "You can't kill him if he says it. You have to promise me. Promise me he doesn't get hurt." Buffy slithered from her semi-prone position to fall on her knees, moving forward to scoot next to Spike.

Willow's eyes moved from the horrifying tableau to the stack of books in the corner where they'd been practicing the "tar spell." They needed four to cast that, or Riley would have been stuck like a prehistoric bug in amber. Had Giles burned the ingredients to create the ash for the absence of sensation spell? It didn't matter. She couldn't go up and casually sprinkle the contents of an envelope around Spike. He kept cutting his eyes to her with mounting desperation and she hoped he could see the desperation was equal on her end.

If I get the chip out- it's going to ruin his face, maybe his brain. What the hell does he want me to do, what the hell am I supposed to do?

And now Buffy was squarely in the way of whatever attempt she was going to make, anyway.

"Why do you care?" Riley demanded suspiciously, but he knew the answer. She loves the monsters. The hot monsters, the tame vamps. Her pets to play with.

"He saved my life! If you kill the person who saved my life, I'll never forgive you. You- you'll be a monster, the thing you hate. He's helpless. It's not a fair fight, Riley!" Buffy concluded angrily.

What Riley did next surprised everyone, even himself. He brought the butt of the gun down hard on Spike's head in a split second and leveled it right at Buffy's forehead, right between the eyes before she could do more than gasp. As she sat frozen, he reached down and yanked her over. She could feel his limbs shaking with effort. Any minute now, he'd be weak enough or unfocused enough to take down. She just had to play for time.

"Is this fair? You're the strongest person on earth. Seems like I can have a little extra firepower on my side."

"You bastard," Spike sat up, rubbing his head where a lump was forming through split skin. He knew he should have been knocked out after a point-blank blow like that. True, he felt like the world was on a tilt-a-whirl, but it faded in seconds. Slayer blood. No. Slayer blood and Slayer mana. Recovery time was nothing. If he could have, he would have told Willow to make her play, painful and risky as it was. Only problem was, right now, he couldn't look away.

"You're pointing a gun at the person you said you love. No, it's not fair!" Xander tried to move forward, only to find Anya yanking him back.

"I shouldn't have to! It scares me to think this, but I have to," Riley spoke to the room at large, but he was looking at Buffy as if he were peeling off layers to see underneath. "I thought they controlled you. Is it the other way around. Is that why he can't say it? You have to break it? Could you have broken this thing with Dracula all along?" His voice was rising and his hand was visibly shaking now.

"Don't be ridiculous, why would I ever-"

"An excuse! To get rid of the normal guy, to go back to your Angel-clones, to get your twisted kinks out with someone who can't actually kill you. Well, I- I can. Say it. Say it! Tell Spike he's done, you don't need him. Set him free. And he's going to do the same, or one of you gets a little extra ventilation." I don't even know which one, right now. It was getting harder to stand, harder to think. The blood was rushing in his ears, so much louder than it should have, but it felt so muddled in the center of his chest, tight and loose and bubbly at once.

Buffy's throat closed over the words. My life. My love. You can't break this. I can't break this, lose half of myself. Her hand moved, slowly. Finn jerked the gun, but the hand wasn't coming for him. Reaching for the vampire's. Hands met.

She gasped, a tear trickling from each eye when blood bloomed around her ring finger, a thin circle. He in me and me in he. Our circle be unbroken…

He squeezed. "Harder," he mouthed soundlessly, voice taken away in grief. It'll be okay. We'll claim each other right back up. We'll choose to. We'll find a way to fix it.

Harder. Right. We did all the hard things- but this. No. I can't- I can't lie anymore. I can't say he's not mine. I love him and… maybe for the first time ever I feel like I can be loved all the way, too. "This is too hard," she protested weakly, still mindful of the weapon at her head.

He swallowed. Yeah, but for her… You can do the hardest things. The things that'll hurt you. Break you. Destroy you. All for a chance to be rebuilt later. "It's okay, Luv. I'll do it. You're free, Slayer."

She felt something slam into her, a body blow from the inside out. She doubled-up, but surprisingly, the pain fled almost at once. It's not enough to break a bond like ours. He didn't say specifically he released me or he set me free. Just that I'm free. Damn magic, always listening in… But maybe Riley won't know that.

Or maybe it's because I have to say it back to make it complete. "Thank you, Spike. For everything." She squeezed his hand harder, suppressing the urge to lean forward and kiss his pale, perfect lips, to stroke his worried face. "My Kindr-"

Buffy found herself hauled backward suddenly, voiced choked off by the force of Riley's maniacally strong hand suddenly in her hair, ripping her head back.

"You can say it in the car, and keep saying it over and over until we get where we're going." She can't help herself. Even after he says it, she can't break it, starts it all over again.

"No! No, you are not going anywhere." Tara put herself between the door and Riley's exit with a breathless scurry, her hands out and up, white mist flowing from them. This spell was ancient and powerful and not meant to be performed by someone like her. She needed more power, but it was worth any shot right now, anything to stop him. "Kali, Hera, Kronos, Thonic. Air like nectar, thick as onyx. Cassiel, by your second star-"

"Now, Red, do it now!" Spike screamed as pulled himself to his knees and into a crouch, ready to run- and knowing he was utterly useless with the chip in place. Willow squeaked, looked around frantically, and he let out a snarl, fanging up. Tara wasn't going to be able to hold that bugger off, good witch or no. That spell required more firepower and Finn might shoot her to stop her magic. Not hurting the boy. Saving the girls Saving my wife. Saving our sister. Not hurting the bastard. Maybe if he kept repeating it, he could fool the sodding chip. Or-

"Glacio!" Willow's eyes were black and blood dripped delicately over her upper lip as her face went white with effort.

"Spike!" Buffy screamed and fought Riley's arm, gun be damned. Spike had fallen like a hammer, but Willow hadn't stopped. Her hands were moving, pulling invisible strings, and whatever she was doing was seriously messing him up. The skin on his face cracked and blistered, eyes wide with a scream, then shut in silence.

He's not immortal. I can feel him dying. I'm- Something hot and searing went through the skin at her hip, but it didn't seem to matter that she was on fire. Her husband was freezing, turning to a convulsing mass on the floor.

"Libero corpus!" Willow gasped as she felt the final tug on her powers. A glistening stream of liquid, so cold it burned, passed through one nostril and re-solidified on the ground. She collapsed, head down, hands splayed on the floor, unable to catch her breath. If Spike isn't permanently a vegetable- I've just done him a serious favor.

"What did you do?" Buffy dropped beside the now-still body. "Baby?"

"Guy with a gun!" Xander shouted a reminder. He was shaken at how bad he felt- not about planning to totally shoot Riley if he got the chance, but about the way his guts tied themselves into a knot as Spike remained motionless, part of his face unrecognizable, a mass of black and burn.

"Tara, again!" Anya darted out, her hands up as well, "Kali, Hera, Kronos, Thonic. Air like nectar, thick as onyx. Cassiel, by your second star, hold mine victim as in tar."

This time- it worked.

Maybe because he was human.

Or already weak.

The two of them froze him to the spot, in mid-run, and the bullet that was exiting the gun aimed at Buffy's back, or perhaps Spike's head- froze with him.

Xander swallowed hard. "What happens if I reach my hand in there?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," Willow rose, unsteadily, looking between her two best friends, one kneeling in grief, one standing in rage.

Xander deliberately reached into the "thickened air", fingers slowly grasping around the bullet. "It's like really weird Jell-o. And this thing- ow." He dropped the burning hot bullet to the ground. "Still hurts. But a lot less than it does going through you."

Riley remained silent, struggling. He wasn't quite frozen, his arms and shoulders paddled endlessly, jerking and spasming in place, twisting to get free.

"Should we call the police?" Tara whispered, unable to look away or her concentration would be broken and he'd be loose.

"Not yet. I don't know how to explain the burnt-to-death undead guy. He's not dead, right, Buffy? Not more than usual?" Xander came to kneel beside her.

"Nope." It wasn't her voice that answered.

"Spike! Oh, God, oh, God, thank you." Buffy fell forward, head to his chest, partly to keep from looking at his face, half of which was - hey. Starting to look better already.

"I'm sorry," Willow wiped her eyes first and nose second. "I thought he wanted-"

"You did exactly right. I was jus' hoping I'd be able to do some good, not be flat on my back for days after. God, that hurt. Like snortin' liquid nitrogen." Spike slurred. He opened one eye- the other wouldn't quite work yet, and found Buffy's face, a mask of relief. Found Harris and Red's faces, too. Both shaky but smiling at him.

"That looks nasty," Xander murmured.

"I'm sorry, Spike. The pendant came off, too."

"It's good. It's all good. Tell them, Slayer."

She didn't tell them anything. "You are mine. My Kindred. Okay? Forever."

"You are free, Luv. Free to be with me if you want to be."

"I just said that, idiot." Buffy laughed weakly, wiping the tears off her cheeks. Stupid things. They kept coming, no matter what she was feeling.

"Be nice to him, part of his brain is freezer-burned," Willow hissed.

Buffy grabbed Willow's hand tightly before placing both hands on Spike's chest. "I almost lost you."

"I let you go, 'cause I knew we'd come back together, Pet. Don't you know I'll always find you?"

"Stalker," Riley spat from his prison.

Spike fixed their attacker with one good eye. "Pot. Kettle. Red? You got enough in you to put that rat to sleep?"

Tara blushed. "I meant to do that! Giles got in the-"

"What's happening?" Giles sat up abruptly, speech slurred and glasses askew. "Is everyone all right? Is everyone- good God, what did you do to my - what did you do to Spike?" Suddenly, painfully alert, Ripper also seemed to "wake up." Somehow, the words, "What did you do to my children" had been waiting to spring from his lips. He held those in, and decided to let everything else out. "You invade my home. You shot my daughter! You-"

"Somnus." Willow waved her hand and the body suspended in place suddenly sagged, still held in its magical prison.

"I wasn't done threatening him!" Giles turned to her with aggrieved eyes.

"Tara and Anya can't hold that spell forever, it takes a lot of energy."

"I don't know how effective that is. I'd feel better if he were properly unconscious." Spike tried to sit up, but found that half of his body didn't take orders.

"The vampire nervous system is fascinating," Anya said, lowering her hands. Riley crashed to the floor. Tara jumped back, but Anya walked forward. She picked up the gun and emptied it. "Let's search him for more weapons. Honey, do you want to help me? You can do the frisking part. For one, I have no desire to run my hands over a muscular male."

The world was beginning to move again. Tara and Willow kissed briefly, holding each other tightly, checking for injuries and exhaustion, their hands locked around each other's faces, connecting through a long, silent stare. Satisfied the damage could be dealt with, they collapsed on the couch, too tapped out to do much else.

Xander and Anya were removing things from Riley's pockets and belt.

Giles methodically called the police, calculating they had about ten minutes to concoct a unified story and get Spike off the floor.

As for Buffy and Spike? No one bothered them.

"I could feel something bad happening. Breaking. It hurt, but it stopped," she whispered, surveying his face.

"I chose my words carefully," Spike whispered. "Ask one of them to bring me some blood and a straw. No!" She began to rise and his hoarse shout stopped her. "You don't go get it, you stay with me."

"Kindred." It was a comforting word, a security. Her finger throbbed. She looked at his hands and noticed- "Hey. We have wedding rings."

"What's that, Slayer?"

"Look." She held up their hands. "It's not a cut. It's a- it's a -"

"Stigmata?" Willow offered.

Buffy squinted. "No, I think his eye is just messed up because you liquified the metal and passed it down through his sinuses."

"Strictly speaking, I transformed it- but um- yeah. Had to make it non-solid and um- sorry about the whole face thing."

"Better than melting it with fire. Flammable, here."

"Stigmata, not astigmatism, Buffy. Divine markings, usually associated with the Crucifiction of Christ," Giles supplied, hanging up the phone. "I see no reason they couldn't happen between lovers marked by destiny. Blood, Spike?"

"Ta."

The world left them alone for another minute.

"You could have died." Spike touched her bloodied shoulder, then saw the bright red blooming above her hip. Grazed her twice.

"You could have died. I- I don't know how this immortality thing works for sure," she whispered, leaning low, kissing his forehead, then the good side of his face. It wasn't fear of the mass of contused flesh that hindered her lips from tracing both sides. She was worried it would hurt him more.

"By rights, with a stunt like Red pulled," Spike spoked low, hoping the wicca wouldn't hear him and give herself any guilt trips, "I should be outta commission for days. Brain's still connected up to the body. Think that might be why half of me is feeling wonky. Sorta like a stroke? Only…" he twitched his fingers and felt the movement, felt her stingy skin gripping his palm. "I'm healin' pretty damn fast."

"She in thee. Kindred. Say it back, say it back and later… later, when you're better," she sniffed again, hastily wiping her blood-stained fingers under her overflowing eyes, "we're going to go back to basics, all over again, okay? Just in case you bent the bond without breaking it."

"Kindred. I'm so sorry, Baby. I wouldn't have. Not for anything…" His fingers made a connection now, skin, motion, sensation. "Mana."

"Hmm?"

"Special blood," he whispered, turning his head directly to her ear, loving the golden wisps tickling his face. "Like a - like a vaccine, I reckon. Helped me cope with the damages before they even arrived."

"Then more can help you heal. We'll get you out of here. Giles, I- I need to get Spike somewhere safe, where they can't find him or question him."

"We'll take care of him," Anya volunteered instantly. "Tara and Willow should stay. They look more beat up than we do. They can say- what are you going to say?"

"I-" Buffy froze. She didn't want to be here either, but she needed to be here. She was the ex-girlfriend, the object of the stalking sensation formerly known as Agent Finn.

"Hrm. I have an idea." Giles cleared his throat pointedly. "And as I've already formulated it and the call has been placed, I think mine is the winner."

Riley woke up to see Buffy leaning on Giles, his arm around her shoulders. The gesture to him read as overtly sexual, possessive. Poor, naive Buffy. She never even noticed it. "Get your hands off of her! Where's the vampire?"

Then he noticed the highly-polished pair of black shoes inches to either side of his head. Uniform boots.

Police.

"Like we said. Delirious. He broke in here, gun in hand, poster child for deranged ex." Buffy shivered and did her best to look helpless. It wasn't too hard when she thought about the choice Riley had dropped on her. Die, watch someone else die, or give up your one true love, sever the deepest bond you've ever known. Breaking her heart and shattering Spike's had seemed better than a bullet, but not by much.

"Mr. Riley Finn? You've been reported missing by your parents. They figured you'd head here and we've already been in touch. They are out of their minds with worry. Also, you just had massive surgery, according to your former girlfriend."

"He's very, very sick, and he needs to get to a hospital," Buffy said, hiding her disgust with an effort.

"You don't want to press charges?"

"Oh, I totally do! But I don't want him to-" No. No, for the first time, she understood the desire to see an "innocent" permanently removed from this world.

"We wish him to be able to stand trial. Miss Summers was shot twice. Simply grazed, but-"

"Excuse me?"

Giles stopped speaking and gazed at yet another unwelcome and unexpected stranger in their midst. Possibly a new neighbor, nosing about to see what guns and police were doing in their sleepy little burg. Ha. Poor sap, if only he knew.

"I'm Major General Finn. I need you to surrender the prisoner. He's to be taken back to a classified medical base for observation. His behavior is likely caused by a medication side effect. Here. It's all explained in these documents."

"Finn. As in Riley Finn? If you're related to the prisoner-"

Major General Finn's face didn't twitch. "He's not technically a prisoner and I seem to have arrived before you made an official arrest, which will save paperwork. He suffered severe adrenal overload and a cocktail of suppression medications were stopped too quickly, creating a psychotic episode where he believed the woman he loved was in danger."

"I was! From him. He had a gun. He had a-" Buffy struggled away from Giles, showing her bloodied shoulder, yanking up her top to show the slashed skin of her hip, already beginning to heal over.

"He had a perfect right to carry a firearm, under normal circumstances. I'm so sorry, Miss Summers. You can, of course, file charges, but Riley will not be staying here. He needs medical treatment."

"Right. Right, that's what you were saying," one flummoxed officer said, scratching his head while conferring with his partner over the sheaf of official looking forms. They had a ton of signatures on them, including one from the governor. "It's legit. He's to be surrendered to the military representative."

"This man is a danger," Giles protested, lips thin, arm tightening around Buffy's shoulders, silently praying she wouldn't do anything that would get her arrested as well.

"You have the word of the United State's Military that Riley Finn will be in a secured location." Something about the harsh tone and the suddenly narrowed eyes made Giles believe him- up to a point.

"Should he ever barge into my home again, I'll defend myself."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's simply a statement of fact," Giles said with a small, bitter smile.

"Let's get you up, Soldier," Major General Finn bent to pull Riley to his feet.

"Dad," he hissed. "One of those 'lab projects' had her. I had to."

"I know, son. We'll talk in the car," his father whispered back.

The helplessness she felt earlier doubled. He was just going to get away? He was going to get out in a few days and do it again.

She wouldn't stop this time. She wouldn't worry about who was caught in the crosshairs and Spike didn't need her to defend him anymore. "Riley. Before you go- I just want you to know that Spike had his operation, too. The brain surgery to correct that- that little 'cyst' in his brain? They got it out. He's going to be fine. Strong and healthy in no time." Buffy's face was unsmiling, frigid as the super-chilled elemental magic that sped through Spike's system, displacing heat and transforming the chip. "I know that if you come back, he'll be waiting for you. We both will."

The two officers exchanged a glance. Was that an invitation or a threat? Major Finn didn't seem to know, either, but Riley did. "With Giles and Xander, too, huh? All the old gang?"

"We move as a unit. I like to have my better half with me." She watched Riley's eyes widen and then slit as he scanned the room.

"Your keeper? Or do you hold the leash?" he spat.

"Riley! Keep a civil tongue in your head!" His father resisted the urge to shake his ill and injured son. The boy wasn't making this easier on himself. Thank God that doctor, Overheiser, had some good pull and was able to help him get this hushed up as a medical matter. Between his weight, the ex-Initiative coordinator's call from DC to Cali, and the Finn family's own status, Riley would get off with an extra week or two of observation. Wouldn't be a bad idea after what happened on the road. As for this fiasco- a good attorney could handle the civilian side of things, blame it on an overheated break up and a sense of danger, a perceived attacker… As long as it didn't cost the boy his career.

"I'll be-"

"Don't say another word," his father grunted sharply, then hauled him out of the apartment, none too gently.

"Miss? Those charges? You'll need to give us your formal statement"

Buffy drooped in exhaustion. "Right. Um. Well, I came over to see Giles'. My engagement party is this weekend and he's like my dad so-"

Riley faltered as his father goose-stepped him to the car and shoved him inside of it. "Engagement party! Engagement! Dad! She's - she's the crazy one, not me. She has a pet vampire, she has a thing for them, a kink for-"

"Then consider yourself lucky. You got out in time." His father strapped him in the backseat with a glower. "You are damn lucky you didn't get killed. Your mother and I were out of our minds. You could have had a heart attack or a cardiac issue on one of these big highways. And shooting a civilian!?"

"I was aiming at the vampire."

"You sound crazy."

"I'm not crazy!"

"Take your medicine." He thrust a bottle of pills in his direction, then opened three more in quick succession. "Take all of 'em. We found your empty bottles in the hotel trash can. I got Overheiser to get new prescriptions sent out. He said it's a miracle you hadn't dropped dead already, being off of everything cold turkey like that! Not to mention that little episode you just had! Yeah, I know you've been prescribed something for your head and normally, I don't hold with such nonsense, but you need it! When's the last time you took your meds for your heart? Your blood pressure? God, look at you, even a week later, bleeding through your…" Bleeding through his shirt. His incision had opened up. Over his heart surgery scar.

"What?" Riley asked, swallowing the pills dry, head falling back with a thump.

"Did you get hit in the chest, son?" his father's voice was gentler now, but still somehow urgent.

"Huh? I don't know." He'd gotten thrown. He'd been fighting that stupid spell for a few minutes and then… Maybe he'd been knocked out? One minute he'd been frozen in space, the next, waking up on a floor.

Wordlessly, Major Finn began to drive. "Riley. Keep talking to me, Soldier."

"I'm fine, Dad. I thought- I thought I could force the vampire to let her go. He did. Funny- he did. She wouldn't do it. Looks so sweet…" The car was getting so dark. Was it really that late at night? "She went Rambo on me when I tried to kill her little undead distraction."

"How's your chest feel?"

"Good. Fine. What did you give me?"

Belatedly, Major Finn looked at the bottles. Psych meds. Metoprolol. The blood thinner Riley had originally been prescribed. The one he'd been prescribed now, a stronger one.

They weren't supposed to be taken together.

He wasn't supposed to be overexerting himself.

He was supposed to be on light duty, lying down, resting.

In the rearview mirror, he saw the red stain spreading. His foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

Reclining in Joyce's house was nice, but it wasn't home. He had a home now, a home with his beautiful wife. He wanted to go there, but it felt wrong to have all of their family- yes, family- over for the first time without her.

"Keep drinking, it's helping," Tara soothed.

"Thanks, Pitbull," he whispered.

She blushed. "Not your best nickname, Spike."

"Guard dog, though, aren't you? You weren't gonna let him leave."

"No. Not gonna let him get away with it," Tara said quietly, pausing a moment to look into his one open eye, then to leave, hurrying away on gliding feet.

They all kept doing this. Coming in. Checking on him. Leaving again.

Don't know how to be around each other. Guess we'll learn.

"Did you see how manly Xander was?" Anya gushed at him as she unceremoniously shoved a straw between his lips and propped his chin shut to keep the blood from dribbling out the side of his mouth that was still raw and refusing to seal tight. He made a grunt of agreement, the best he could do while swallowing it down and having his mouth jammed shut. He hoped Joyce wouldn't come home and find him there, like this. He nudged his head back best he could, swallowing. "He was very protective."

"He would have done more but I was holding onto him." The smile fled. "Are you okay?"

No one had thought to ask that. They could see he wasn't okay, bits of him charred, bits of him needing propping and carrying. They didn't realize he was strung out and frantic inside, away from her, their bond feeling stretched and strained.

"No. I'm not."

Anya nodded gravely. She lightly touched his head as she rose. "Have you ever bitten her arm before?"

"What? No."

"Well, just don't let her put all her weight on your face when you feed. Are your fangs working?"

"Probably." He didn't want to try just then. It hurt to think about rearranging the bones under his blistered skin.

"Arm. Or ankle. Have you ever heard of the-"

"Ahn. Don't give Spike sex position advice now," Xander stepped in, this time bearing a beer.

"How did you know I was going to do that?"

"Because I know that you get him and he gets you. It scares me and it also makes me oddly happy. It feels good to have a buddy. But don't get him all revved up. He has serious healing to do before Saturday. I don't want to look better than the groom-to-be. Okay?" Xander put the beer in his hand and his fingers lingered long enough to wrap the vampire's tightly to the cold can. Longer still.

"As if you could, mate." Spike winked.

Mate. Friend. Yes. It was going to be good to have friends. William hadn't had much chance, sensitive, a loner.

But it'd be better to have his wife home safe. "Where the bloody hell is she?"

"Buffy, dear. Sweetheart. Sit."

"You don't call me that. Ever."

"Don't I?" Giles asked distractedly. He supposed he didn't.

"Nope." Not that she could really remember. It was too tender, too un-English, even for all they'd gone through. "It's a Spike nickname for me now." Her smile wobbled.

"Well, I shall use it in my fatherly capacity just once, then." His own smile was loose, couldn't be tightened up at the corners. "Tea?"

"No. Tell me. You- you wanted to talk to me alone before. Is that why your plan involved everyone else leaving?"

"Partially. Also, fewer conflicting details and Riley would be hardly likely to implicate himself further by calling more witnesses to testify that he held us all at gunpoint." Giles suddenly sat down. Demons and supernatural threats, yes, bring them to his table all day long. This had felt- far too inescapable and immediate, simple in its horror. A man with a gun. Just as deadly. Just as capable of killing her and taking away far more than she knew.

"Smart, Watcher-mine."

Immortal. If she were immortal, she wouldn't always be his. Perhaps Wesley, next? He was a good ten years his junior, maybe even more.

"Giles, you're staring at me like you're going to tell me something bad. Out with it."

"I'm not sure if you will think this is bad or good. Maybe it won't change anything to you at all."

"Freaking me out more. Is it about Spike?" Her hands found her knees and held onto them to stop them from trembling.

"No, no. Well, it will surely impact him. Buffy, Dracula wanted the Slayer to claim and sire, to take her immortal essence for his own, yes?"

"Yes. Jerk. He doesn't even want me for my mind," Buffy managed a weak joke. Spike told her she was smart all the time. No one had ever… "Go on. If- if Spike doesn't "sire" me, he's off the hook?"

"Essentially, yes, that's what we believe. Mind you the Council doesn't know everything. For one thing, they originally believed staking Dracula three times, or perhaps seven times, would be his undoing. But this new information is a mixture of Council knowledge and the Countess' knowledge, so…"

"Daniela. If she's playing Wesley, she's a reeeeally good actress." It takes a long time to crack a Watcher's shell…

"Yes. So. This information comes from her and I have no reason to believe it untrue and no way to test it but time." He rose and paced a few steps before sitting down again. "Buffy, Spike is immortal in the traditional way that vampire's are. Undying unless dispatched. He may now be an incredibly strong vampire. I observed how fast he was healing. It could be his bond with you or the recent addition to his diet." He ignored the blush and sudden squirm from his Slayer. "I know he's not feeding from you, dear. He told me after that first time, when he came to see me, that your blood was simply that strong in small doses." Giles reached over and patted her hand.

"Right. Small doses," Buffy repeated.

"You- you are also immortal in a similar way. Being a Slayer means that you will not die unless you are killed. Dispatched. If old age should find you- you won't necessarily go. Nor may it find you. Slayers don't seem to-" He got up suddenly.

"What are you doing?" What are you saying? Her mind reeled. Immortal? Me? Hello, let me introduce you to Faith, my lovely, evil Slayer-twin, made 'cause I died.

Well. Drowned.

Giles was rifling through the section of his bookcases which contained case files and Watcher Diaries. Normally fastidious, he was now plowing through them recklessly, tossing books over his shoulder with a huff of impatience when he couldn't find what he wanted. Then- "Ah-ha! You have grown and changed since the time I knew you, but I was wondering…" He hustled over and put two books in her lap.

Black and white photos. Some pretty girl with a Swedish-sounding name in a black and white photo, her hair in a bouffant style. And the same woman, different day.

"This is Eva Karlsson. She was called when she was twenty, one of the latest ever to begin her career. Usually in the teens," he muttered half to himself. "This is her at one year in. Twenty-one."

Buffy nodded, mind still in "humor him" mode.

"This is her at twenty-four, shortly before her death. When I compare the pictures, in four years of Slaying- not to mention the rough situations surrounding her life, shortly after the end of World War II- I see very little change."

"Women in their twenties don't seem to age much?" Buffy offered.

"No, I suppose they don't. My suspicion is that you might reach the age of physical significance, or it could even be simply after the Cruciamentum… and you'll cease to age, or age very slowly. I don't think you'll simply age without ceasing, for that would likely lead to the cellular decay that causes death from old-age. Must ask Wesley. Mustn't tell the Council, in case they don't know." He stopped his constant torrent of words and looked at Buffy, calmly flipping through the pages of the diary in her lap without actually looking at them. "You're taking this remarkably well."

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because I don't believe it. I'm going to die. I've already- for a second," Buffy looked up at him with suddenly moist eyes. "I've been… I've been expecting it to get me, Giles. I have a- all Slayers have a death wish. They want that look of peace," she echoed Spike's words, whispering their secret while looking into Giles' startled eyes. "We get hard. Empty. Cold. Tired of fighting and killing. Dark. We can't… it would be cruel to do this to someone forever!" Tears spilled over.

"And so, the Slayer fights the most dangerous beasts, takes the greatest risks, throws herself into battle on our behalf, so that her life is cut short. A mercy killing, in a way." His own eyes were unsurprisingly wet. "But if a woman had a partner- a lover who needed that nightly hunt, who was blessed with the skills and the drive…"

He's lonely, too. Looking for the way out, the exit from a life where he couldn't have love, couldn't be the person he wanted to be… "It's why he went after Slayers. He likes life, but it would be cruel to live forever if you didn't have love. Always a hunt and a kill. Like me. Like Slayers." Dracula had been right in a way. They were so much alike, they didn't even know how their darknesses were intertwined.

"But if that vampire had a partner, a wife who needn't die or fade away with years… you could both be happy. Whatever comes, you have a chance, Buffy. Please see it as that, a good thing," he whispered desperately.

A chance to live out a long life with Spike. Not to leave one another. Her cheeks bloomed into a sudden smile. "It's a complicated thing- but I'm used to that."

"True. Yes, wise, I suppose not to think of it as wholly a blessing, for there are-"

"Are you kidding me? It's totally a blessing! Okay, there are going to be some tricky parts and it's going to be sad in so many ways when things change and I don't but… Kindred." She touched the space surrounding her heart, a circle. "That one person gives you so much, Giles. I can't even explain it. The thought of forever with that person makes me okay. That's the blessing. That he and I- I mean, until that battle that you can't walk away from… Maybe we go out together, huh?"

He enfolded his brave girl in his arms. "I believe that for certain. He would be by your side on that last day. The only way death comes to you is if it first found its way through him."

"And vice versa." Buffy frowned into his shoulder. No way would he let that happen. Or would she let that happen. She and Spike were going to be together for a very, very long time.

"I can't wait to tell him. I can't wait to get home- to Mom's, that is. Come on, drive me there?"

"Of course, yes." He patted her back and let her go, taking a moment to grab his coat and keys, watching her picking up the books he'd flung with uncharacteristic disregard. "You know, it's unfortunate in the way it occurred, but Spike, while injured, is better in one way. The chip is removed. He can defend himself against-" Giles paused as the phone pealed. "Ten-to-one it's your frantic groom-to-be, frantic that you've been out of his sight for so long." He smiled and motioned for her to answer it.

"No bet," she chuckled. "You also told me I was never allowed to answer your phone again after I called it Rupert Giles' swinging bachelor pad," she teased and continued to put the last few books away as he answered.

From the way his face went from relaxed to cold and stern in seconds, she knew it wasn't Spike or one of her friends on the line. She hurried over, head cocked to hear.

"The police. They have- Yes, Miss Summers is still here as well. What do you mean, both charges must be dropped? Now, see here, I don't care what sort of pull that lad's idiot father has, the president himself cannot sweep away the fact that he- Oh."

Buffy heard the voice on the other end cut in, tinny and factual. "You can't bring charges against a deceased individual. He died at Sunnydale Memorial a few minutes ago. I shouldn't disclose details, but he'd just had major heart surgery and all that he put himself through, breaking in and attacking you and Miss Summers was a big mistake. He wasn't healed as good as he thought or there was some medical issue, but… I'm sorry to tell you he passed away and the case is closed, at least as far as criminal charges being brought against him. Mr. Giles? Are you there?"

"Yes. Yes, we're here." Buffy looked stricken, standing still beside him, her fingers clutching his elbow to stop her from swaying.

"You have your copy of the police report, but the case file is closed. I guess- well, I usually say, I'm sorry for your loss, but don't know if you're feeling sorry, considering what the guy did to you."

"Do you know if he- why he…?" Buffy asked, standing on tiptoe to speak into the mouthpiece.

"No, no details, just didn't survive the emergency surgery. Maybe he got there too late or the damage was too much. He was your ex, right?"

"One of them. But he- he used to be a very-" Buffy found her tongue struggling around words she didn't fully believe anymore. "I wish things were different." That much was the whole truth.

"Sorry. You've saved yourself the hassle of a trial. Look on the bright side?" the officer clumsily suggested.

Going home to tell her husband that he wasn't doomed to live forever without her. That neither of them were going to be forced to live alone, not by age or difference in their species. Going home to renew the bond that bullets couldn't break. "Thank you."

She was speaking to the universe.

To be continued…

Thank you for your patience on that long chapter!

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