His Slayer

Disclaimer: Joss owns Btvs

A/N: Hi all. I'm still struggling to find the enthusiasm of writing Buffy and Spike. I'm sorry for the long delay; I wish I could say it wouldn't happen again but… At the moment I feel okay with Spike and Buffy and so I decided to give writing this chapter a try. Hope you enjoy and thanks to everyone for sticking with me. It means a lot to me. Skyz.

~*~

Chapter Twenty One:

Before the sun went down there had been a hint of hope, a sense of rightness that all would soon be right in the world. In fact the light of a new day had brought renewed spirits and a brighter outlook on what was to come. They talked amongst themselves while they huddled over their fallen leader and tried to talk about anything and everything but the facts. Anything but the fact that they felt responsible in a sense for what had happened to Buffy and her mother. That they had known that Joyce's plan was not the smartest or the most strategically mapped out. But none the less they had gone through with it and the casualties were irreplaceable.

So they talked about the weather, which just happened to be a cloudy sixty-seven degrees with a slight chance of showers through the afternoon. They talked about the fact that Xander hadn't yet gotten anyone to sign his cast; only to be reminded by Giles that he had dislocated shoulders thus did not require a cast. They talked about Principal Snyder and how he had pitched a fit when they had called off from school with help from Giles. They talked and talked. Everything coming out of their mouths meaningless and forgettable.

Until suddenly they couldn't speak anymore, words failed them and it was all they could do to remain in the same room with eachother. Their guilt and anger eating away at them. Making them uncomfortably aware that in part what had happened was each of their faults. That no matter what they said or rather didn't there was no escaping it.

So one by one they trickled out of Buffy's room with lingering looks at the strongest girl they'd ever known and guiltily gave huge sighs of relief to be free for just a moment of the huge weight on their shoulders. Not looking eachother in the eyes they dispersed each going their separate ways.

Only one remained and he had made a promise to look out for her and he intended to keep it even if it killed him. And the sense of hope that Buffy would wake and things would again begin to make a certain sense was there still, in the pit of his stomach and his faith in her was stronger than he could have ever imagined. As he had never gotten to work with his own Slayer he felt it was his duty to do his best, as he had felt a certain protectiveness and fondness for Spike, he felt he could watch over Spike's most prized possession and if needed be a pseudo Watcher.

And as the sun went down his hope was still lingering, but he could not help but let his head drop into his hands. He wanted her to wake up so he could help her, for he felt about as useless as he had since birth, he mused with a sad tight lipped smile that didn't register with his eyes.

He stiffened when he heard the door open scrapping slightly against the linoleum flooring, running over the small piece of cardboard Wesley had placed there to be alerted when someone entered the room. His head shot out of his hands and he jerked himself upright and out of the chair in a matter of seconds, his body between her bed and the door.

His stance was tense and defensive one that didn't change as he watched Angel slowly step into the room closing the door behind him.

His eyes swept over Wes dismissively and settled on Buffy.

"I'll stay with her now," he said flatly as he began to shrug out of his leather duster.

Wes shifted on his feet as he relaxed slightly.

"I'll stay." His tone was just as flat and cold as Angel's was. He had no intention of leaving Angel alone with Buffy. He had heard what Spike had said to Angel. Save Buffy by any means necessary. Which Wesley knew meant perhaps even turning her. He shuddered internally at the thought; he could not imagine what she would be like as a vampire. It had never been done and Wesley knew there had to be a good reason for that. So he had taken it upon himself to inform Giles of that fact and though he knew Giles resented his recent status in his Slayer's life he had agreed. The discussion with the rest of Buffy's friends had almost caused a mini riot, with Xander leading the charge to stake "Dead boy's sorry ass." His exact words. So it was decided Angel was not to be left alone with Buffy no matter what. They would take shifts. Wesley had taken the first one.

Angel sent him a narrowed look that told little of his thoughts.

"I want to talk to her," Angel said abruptly as he turned to face Buffy, reaching out to take one of her hands in his and grip it tightly.

"Well, I would suggest you go right ahead and do that. I will promise not to eavesdrop."

Wesley saw Angel stiffen and felt a glimmer of satisfaction. He had not yet made his mind up on whether he liked the older vampire or not. He guessed that part of his rather instant dislike of the vampire had been because he was encroaching on Spike and Buffy's tentative relationship. And as he was quite fond of the two he had taken offense.

Now he would have to make up the rest of his mind in regards to Angel.

"Please would you-"

"I am not leaving. It's not up for negotiation."

Wes reclaimed his seat on Buffy's right side and looked down at her peaceful face. Wishing once more that she would wake up and things could be made slightly less all consuming.

"You can trust me. You have to know that trusting Spike is like signing your own death warrant. He can not be trusted. I think-" Angel began his voice colored with frustration and contempt.

"Please. There's nothing you can tell me about Spike that could possibly be true. The Spike you knew is dead and you have no idea who or what he is about now. Please do not speak to me about Spike. Just talk to Buffy and be done with it."

Angel turned from Wes his mouth working with anger and a million things going through his mind. He had never thought this would have happened, that Spike would swoop in and take everything that meant a damn thing to him. Steal his woman, earn the respect of a Watcher and the loyalty of the Scoobs, and yet Spike had and here he was left out in the cold with a man he hardly knew watching him as he talked to the woman he loved.

Things were going to have to change and soon.

~*~

"Hush," she whispered with dread as the baby continued its wailing. She cradled the baby to her bosom and wished for the nth time that she had an inkling for maternal instinct. That she had been born with a nurturing nature instead of a commanding and domineering nature that precluded ever having children as she knew she would resent not having the control and domination she craved.

A part of her wanted to toss the baby aside and run for her life. She certainly knew that things had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting in the past forty-eight hours and she would be a wanted woman.

A small smile curled her mouth upwards as she thought of this as she paced the length of the dingy stained carpet of the motel room she and Tate were staying in at the moment. She knew through the thin walls the baby's wails could be heard clearly and from the pounding from the neighbors they weren't pleased. But she didn't give a damn about them and if they came to the door and threatened her she would shoot them. Perhaps not kill them but make them remember the name Maggie Walsh.

"Please little baby be quiet," she tried to sooth but failed.

Her anger growing with each cry she took a deep breath and gently but firmly placed the baby onto the middle of the bed surrounded by pillows and took a step back. Her head was pounding and her breath was coming in quick sharp gasps as anger began to over come her, and make her want to scream until her throat was raw.

"Think," she muttered aloud as she turned from the baby. She had to think of a way out of here. She had driven until she'd gotten to L.A and then she had gotten a cab to take her into Nevada, and had found this motel in the middle of nowhere about fifty miles from Reno. She'd bought a run down piece of crap and here they were. With a baby that was crying for only God knew what and she was on the verge of losing her mind. She had to get them out of here. She was sure that she could get far enough away from Spike and Buffy so that she could use some of her military contacts and go underground.

Her previous thoughts of capturing Buffy and Spike once more had fled her mind. When she had killed Joyce she had cemented her fate and had known she would never have Buffy or Spike even if she had Tate. Buffy--well the Slayer wouldn't kill her she was confident, but that didn't mean Spike would not find joy in ripping her throat out. So now she knew she was on her own with this, with no backing from the U.S., no more backup from the Initiative, no one would be watching her back. All she had was herself and that…well that's all she'd had for most of her life. She would rely on her own skill to get out this alive.

"Shut that fucking baby up," someone screamed from the other side of the wall and Maggie flinched slightly as she turned to glare at the offending pea green colored wall.

"Tate we have to get out of here," she muttered. It didn't matter that the baby was screaming or that she hadn't fed him, or that she would be running out on her bill, she had to get out of here now.

Turning sharply she hurried back to the bed and lifted Tate back up, and grabbing her small bag she headed for the door. Not caring about anything but getting out of there. Getting to a safe place so she could think properly and figure out what she had to do.

She got into her car and with a sputtering start placed it in reverse and roared out of the lot, Tate screaming all the while.

A shape emerged from the shadows that had fallen as the sun had made its descent and he leaned back against the wall, a cigarette dangling from the edge of his mouth. His cowboy hat shielding his face as he took a deep drag and then slowly exhaled.

He flicked the cigarette aside and turning on his booted heel he headed for the pay phone a few feet away. He dug around in his hip pocket for some change and jerked the phone up. He dialed a series of numbers and waited as the operator connected him long distance.

"Yeeeesssss…." The voice on the other end drew out the word and the caller could hear laughter from the other end and the clinking of glasses.

"Hello," he answered with a slight sniff, he wondered again why he'd decided to come down to the bloody west and have a grand old time. Play at being a cowboy for a while. Seemed all the fun was being had back home.

"Is that you Reginald?" the voice asked in surprise as it registered the caller's voice.

"Yep. It's me and I've got a little something to tell you. I assume you heard about the rumor…?" he asked leadingly as he fingered the buttons of the pay phone.

The silence was lengthy as Reginald heard his boss move away from the party and into a less crowded and loud room.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Well Lorenzo I think I just got it confirmed," Reginald said as he gave a toothy grin, fangs and all.

~*~

Spike kept his back to Rowan and the man she was currently deep in conversation with. He could not bring himself to talk to the man without giving way to his anger and vamping out and perhaps killing him. So he kept himself apart from them and wondered what they would do next. It hadn't been hard to follow Maggie's trail to L.A., and it hadn't been hard to imagine that she would get the hell out of there as soon as she could. The only problem was that her trail stopped cold and there was nothing left.

Nothing.

Spike felt a growl rumble at the base of his throat and instantly squashed it so that the man would not over hear it. With a grimace he pushed away from the wall and with his back still to them he clenched his hands into fists and stared off into the night.

"Thank you," Rowan said as she shook the man's hand and watched as he walked off and then turned to face Spike's back. "Well as you guessed there was nothing there. He said she'd just given him the keys and walked off. With Tate."

She paused as she waited for Spike to respond.

He wasn't inclined to speak at the moment, because he knew if he did he would lash out and make things worse. He didn't want to hurt her or alienate her so that she wouldn't help him. So he kept his moth closed and his back to her as he struggled for the control he was fast losing. He ducked his head and studied the tops of his boots, and then with a deep breath he released slowly, he turned.

"I figured he wouldn't know much. Seems we're at a dead end. I spent too much time in Sunnydale with Buffy. If I had left like she'd wanted I might have been able to catch up with them. Doesn't matter. S'not like she'll hurt him. Can't not if she wants to experiment on 'im. She'll treat him right. Has to. C'mon we can't find anymore tonight. I think once we're settled for the night I can think more clearly. Head on back to the room and I'll see you there."

Spike watched as Rowan opened her mouth to speak and another voice interrupted her.

"I'll stay with him and make sure he stays out of trouble."

Rowan sent Oz a look that held little confidence and more frustration than worry.

"I'm not afraid he'll get into trouble. It's what he's not doing that's worrisome." With that said she gave a brief nod and headed off in the opposite direction.

Spike headed off as well not waiting for Oz to trail after him. He didn't mind having the dog around him, and didn't care that he seemed to be having his own little crisis at the moment either. Oz had wanted to come along and had faced no opposition. Though Spike did wonder what the girl would think, the red head. Buffy had mentioned them and he could very well smell them on eachother. Not that he'd placed much thought in that because his focus was now solely on finding Tate. He didn't have time to think of anything else but his son and in a way he thought it was for the better. Because if he thought about Buffy he knew things would not be as focused for him at all.

"Where are we headed?"

Oz's question roused him briefly from his thoughts and he turned to glance at the boy.

"I'm off to feed and you're gonna mind your own business," he answered harshly as he strode a little faster. Heedless to the sounds and sights of the streets as he passed by. Not conscious that he was headed into the seedier part of town, and that had he looked around he would have noticed more than one vampire hanging on street corners. But he didn't and if he had he wouldn't have cared.

All he could think about was that Maggie was running.

That was obvious and from this point on he would look upon her as nothing more than a nuisance that he would kill as soon as he got a hold of her. It wasn't about revenge. It had stopped being about revenge once Maggie had taken Joyce's life and put Wes into the hospital. There would be no lingering death, there would be no torture and he would not waste his time by making her suffer. It would be quick and to the point. Bloody but short. Her death would be by his hands and he knew that if he didn't find his son with her then he would revise that plan and make her suffer like she had never suffered before. She would regret the day that she had allowed him to escape, and hadn't killed him when she'd had the chance.

Maggie was running and she had better not stop unless she wanted to die. Since he had spent all those months locked up under her supervision and torture he knew her. Knew the way her mind worked and it ate at him as he roamed the streets. He needed to find her, he had to find her. She was gone from L.A., but that didn't mean she'd left the States yet. He had a feeling she hadn't. She would want to do this on her own, but she would realize that she would need help. She would need the help of the government, if not them, then people she'd befriended or blackmailed to help her. She wasn't as ignorant to magic as she liked to pretend, he knew that. She would have to take precautions against Rowan but there wasn't a mage on earth who would help her once they realized whose baby she'd stolen. He might not remember his past but by the reaction he'd had from others he had been one badass.

He figured that she knew that tracing an aura in a crowd was difficult as auras blended and merged when interacting with others. So he knew she could have taken the train or the bus, but he knew she would never have put up with common people. She had the sense that she was better than everyone else, and couldn't be bothered to abide by rules meant for the common man. So he had knocked off trying to find any leads on her that way. Now as he hunted the streets for suitable prey he let his thoughts wander. If those forms of transportation were off limits then it meant that she had used another means in which to escape the city.

He watched with heightened alertness as a taxi zoomed by and with a certainty borne from his gut instincts he knew that was the way she had gotten out of town. He knew that it was the only possible way she could have gotten away. She wouldn't risk renting a car that they could trace. Plus they were cleaned on a regular basis and were easy to trail using magical means. A taxi was a different thing all together. While it did have a number of auras in it, they only left a marginal imprint and it would be easier to search out Maggie and Tate's auras.

A savage grin flashed quickly across his face as he realized that Maggie had made her first mistake, and if he was right he knew they'd be one step closer in finding her and his son.

~*~

"I…I have to help him find Tate. I can't stay here and do nothing," Oz had said his face stoic and impassible. His voice was calm and rational for the coming hysterics he'd feared were on their way.

Only they hadn't come, because there wasn't much Willow had been able to say. Her feelings and thoughts were torn in so many directions that she could hardly hear herself think straight. He had been able to see the struggle in her eyes as she nodded slowly.

A part of him had been angered that she couldn't tell by looking at him. That she could not see that he'd devoured a human last night, eaten flesh and blood and even now he craved the taste of man. He had been so angry in that moment that he had wanted to scream at her, to make her see what it was she loved. He was an animal and nothing more. This guise he wore hid his basic instincts and he might appear civilized to the world, but on the inside he was a raging beast.

Oz replayed his conversation with Willow over and over in his mind as he trailed Spike and wondered again why he hadn't stayed. At least there he would have been acknowledged. Felt as if he were doing something even if that was only helping Willow cope with the sudden lose of Buffy's mother. But he hadn't stayed there because he had been afraid that they would all be able to tell just by looking at him. See what he was becoming--no what he had become, what he had been since he'd been bitten.

His eyes scanned the streets and his senses stretched seeking signs of anything that would alert him to danger. He had come with Spike in part to get away, to sort out his thoughts, but to also help Spike find his son. Feeling slightly responsible in the boy's kidnapping as he had been in on Joyce's plan from the beginning. He had wondered if they had been doing the right thing by implementing the plan that had holes as big as his head in it, but had gone along; thinking that if someone would say something then it would be Faith. As the only Slayer in sight and the person Buffy would no doubt blame if things went wrong since Giles was gone, they had all assumed Faith would step up and say this plan sucked and wouldn't work and it was a no go. Only she hadn't and Joyce was dead and they were all regretting letting Joyce have her way.

When Spike stopped to feed at last Oz moved as far away as he could without leaving Spike's back open to any possible dangers. But the fresh scent of blood assaulted his nose and made his mouth dry as hunger gripped him in knots and had him growling. He had known the taste of human flesh would not be easily assuaged by human food. But he refused to give into his instincts to maim and kill.

So he studiously blocked out the sounds of feeding and ignored the appetizing whiff of spilled blood, and was startled when he felt a hand clamp down hard onto his shoulder.

"Thought you were gonna watch m'back?"  Spike asked as he spun Oz around so that they faced eachother. Oz took an involuntary step back as he met Spike's golden eyes and saw the blood trickling down the side of his mouth.

His eyes flickered away and then back briefly.

"I was," Oz said his voice coming out hoarse.

He resisted the urge to squirm as Spike studied him with an intensity that was frightening. Oz wasn't scared he assured himself; more accurately put he was cautious of the danger Spike represented at the moment.

"Don't worry mate," Spike told him nonchalantly, "dog blood doesn't appeal in the least. But I can tell by the non look on your face that you're feelin' a bit peckish. Have at it. I don't rightly give a fuck whatcha do as long as you don't get in my way," he finished with a grin.

Oz felt intensely uncomfortable as he watched Spike step back and glance at his victim who was leaning drunkenly against the alley wall. The thought that he could actually reach the man in three seconds and rip his throat out entered Oz's mind. That he could be eating the man within five had him turning his back to the man. The fact that he wanted to, that everything inside of him was screaming that he do it had him running as fast as he could out of the alley and away from temptation. Not noticing when Spike fell into step beside him.

Abruptly he stopped and flattened himself against a near by wall and gripped his hands tightly together to keep them from shaking.

I can't kill anyone, he kept thinking as he stared sightlessly into space and breathed in deeply, trying to center himself and get a hold of himself.

"What's wrong with you?" Spike asked curiously as he planted himself in front of Oz. Not invading his space but close enough to reach out, and grab Oz if he decided to bolt again.

Oz heard him and abruptly looked him in the eyes, meeting the golden gaze and seeing something he certainly did not want to see. A connection between them, the same urge that drove Spike also drove him, and it scared him shitless. He did not want to be a killer or an animal and yet that's exactly what he was turning into it seemed.

"I…I can't… I don't want to--" he couldn't say anymore as he felt his heart begin to pound, and he felt as if he would keel over and pass out any minute. A part of his mind told him that he was having an anxiety attack, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Oh! For bloody fucks sake snap out of it," Spike growled as he reached forward and grabbed Oz by the front of his shirt and shook him. Making sure the boy's brain rattled around in his skull for good measure.

Oz felt his head snap back and felt a moment of whiplash as his eyeballs rolled and his breath hitched and he felt his stomach heave.

"Stop it," Oz snapped out through gritted teeth and when he felt his feet touch ground again he stumbled back as Spike released him.

"There we go. Got a little color in you. Have to say you sure did get my mind off of Tate. Freakin' out and running 'round like a chicken with its head chopped clean off. Now do you wanna tell me what's gotten into you?" Spike demanded feeling slightly concerned despite himself.

Oz finally nodded and shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

"The blood," Oz whispered faintly. "I smelled the blood and for a minute I wanted to kill. To murder… I'm not like that. I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer. I am not a killer. I am not a killer. I am not a killer."

Spike's brows rose and shaking his head he wondered how to get through to Oz. He certainly hadn't counted on dealing with the boy's problems as well as trying to find Tate and Maggie. If he was going to freak out every time he smelled blood well then they had a problem. Because this game they were playing was a dangerous one and blood was going to be spilt. A lot of blood and there was a good chance it could be any one of theirs.

"C'mon let's get you back to the motel," Spike muttered that as he grabbed Oz by the arm and began to walk half carrying the werewolf down the street.

Spike figured he would have to help the boy now that he knew he had a problem. Wouldn't do to have something happen to him, not while Oz was on his watch. Buffy would hate him if he let the boy go off and kill innocent folks while he watched on. So with his mind on something other than Tate and Buffy for the first time in what seemed like forever he relaxed a tiny little bit, and allowed a small flicker of hope to lighten his mood.

They might just make it out of this alive or rather undead, he thought wonderingly.

~*~

Lorenzo Giancarlo listened to his childe and settled more comfortably into his wide backed leather chair, settling his handmade Italian leather shoes onto the matching ottoman. 

"You're certain?" he demanded lowly staring at his manicured nails and listening carefully.

Reginald answered yes and Lorenzo released a long drawn out sigh that held a number of meanings.

"Can you follow?" he asked curiously.

"She's not too far gone but I can only travel during the night as you know. I think if I were to put feelers out we could find her soon enough."

"Do it and keep in touch with me every second. Reginald?" Lorenzo asked.

"Yes, Lorenzo?" Reginald asked with a slight measure of fear.

"Thank you," Lorenzo said warmly before he hung up and placed his cell phone on a near by table and clasped his hands together. His thoughts were turned towards what it was he had heard recently. In the last forty-eight hours he and he supposed the rest of the vampire world had been made aware of the fact that there was a vampire baby out there. A baby that had come from two vampires, born of their flesh and blood.

And it was something he had a very keen interest in. It was something he had never thought could ever happen.

"So this is where you ran off to," his mate's voice reached him and he glanced up as she strolled towards him.

He reached out his hand to her and when she reached him she took it and he pulled her down onto his lap. She looped an arm around his neck and gave him a small slightly mocking smile.

"What took you away?" she asked as her fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Reginald called and I was hesitant to tell you this as it was not confirmed. But now…" He trailed off his deep voice going soft and slightly dreamy. It had always been a dream of his and it was something he had given up hope for centuries ago. Given up the dream of ever having children with his bella mia. And now it might be possible!

She stared at him the look on her face wary and slightly curious. Though she was his partner in every sense of the word there were some things she kept out of and that was certainly true with his minions and progeny, as he kept out her business with hers. So she was slightly surprised that Lorenzo wanted to speak to her about Reginald.

 As she had been out of the country the past few days, and the fact that she had been in seclusion she hadn't had time to hear any juicy gossip.

"Now what…?" She demanded a little too sharply as concern began to creep its way inside of her.

"Now Regi called and confirmed it for me. I heard an interesting rumor just the other day. That there was a woman…who had somehow created a baby. A baby by two vampires. Created from two vampires. From what I understood there was a lab but it was destroyed. But the baby is alive and this mad scientist has him."

He paused to gauge her mood.

"A baby?" she asked her voice a whisper. She could not quite believe what she was hearing. She shook her head slightly as she met his eyes.

"Yes," he answered his lips curling upwards and his arms tightening around her waist. "Yes Samantha can you imagine? We could have our own baby. A child that could have the same longevity as us, our blood and perhaps our very own powers."

They were both silent letting the wonder of it sink in.

"Who are the baby's parents?" Samantha asked abruptly, as it occurred to her that this all seemed a little too perfect.

She watched as her lover's face tautened slightly in reaction to her question. And felt more than a bit of worry as she watched his eyes narrow and then felt his non-existent breath ease out of him.

"Well that's the thing." He began with a touch of trepidation. "Since this woman's lab was destroyed and she stole the baby from its father well… It's going to be a bit difficult finding her alive. And we want her alive, because we need her to help us make our baby."

Narrowing her eyes Samantha disentangled herself from his hold and got to her feet.

"You didn't answer my question," she retorted sharply. "Who are the baby's parents?"

"William the Bloody and his sire Drusilla."

She laughed hollowly at that and then turned cold gray eyes to Lorenzo's dark green gaze, speaking without words as years together had made them accustomed to one another's thoughts and emotions.

But Samantha couldn't leave the words unspoken.

"Well in that case we will just have to keep the baby for our very own."

Lorenzo's grin was all the answer she needed as he rose and embraced her in a long and hard hug.

"And if they try to stop us?" Lorenzo asked curiously.

"We will kill them," Samantha replied wickedly.

Lorenzo shook his head and lowered his head so that their lips touched.

"I knew there was a reason why I loved you," he drawled out affectionately as he kissed her. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, and he pulled her closer as the kiss deepened and they sealed their fates.