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...

Dedicated to: Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, DarkenedHrt101, TibiaOK, Kit-Cat 99, and the kind guest reviewers.

Part XVI

The afternoon was spent curled up on his bed, finding new places to explore, new ways to enjoy.

"I'm gonna make you feel so much better, later," Spike hissed in pleasure, just watching her. She was arching down, breasts to rumpled sheets, hips up, legs open, parted around his hand. His fingers dove and pounded, splitting her as his other hand took turns between wrapping around himself and wrapping around her sweet cheeks.

"This … feels… pretty good now!" Buffy collapsed, knees sliding out as she came.

Doesn't miss a beat, Spike thought in a haze as she turned onto her back, yanked him forward, and they reversed, him supine and her having the power over his pleasure. She sank her mouth over him, but kept his hands busy, twined with hers. When he thought he would lose himself in her sweet, glorious softness, her loving, lapping tongue- she would dart up like lightning, biting him and nipping him at his bite, then on the other side of his neck as if she was marking him for herself, and a dozen places where little red welts started to bloom and fade by the time she did it again.

"Where- the hell - did you learn to make love to a vamp?" Spike asked, eyes shuddering closed as he felt the moment coming, that blissful, near-painful second where he would erupt in spite of any intentions to the contrary.

Buffy paused and looked at him, running her tongue over her slightly swollen lips. She leaned over him as if to embrace him with her mouth once more, and instead rubbed him to the feverish place where he'd bitten her, licking him slowly and then rubbing him from the bite, over her chest, over one breast. "Only from you. From instinct," she purred as he exploded with a high-pitched curse. She laughed gently, pleased with herself, with him. We're so good together.

She's perfect for me, Spike thought it a haze.

"I didn't learn to make love to a vamp. I learned to make love to you." Buffy smiled.


"You brought Spike?" Giles held open the door and watched Buffy slide inside, hand firmly entrenched in the vampire's.

"I'm going to help research. We have to switch tactics. We're endin' the soddin' hold, now how do we end him?" Spike pushed through as if he owned the place, then paused. "Mind if I use your microwave?" he asked in the most civil voice Giles had ever heard issue from his lips.

"Of course," he was startled into replying with equal politeness.

"And I really, really want to get some kind of a timeframe on his royal pain in my ass-ness. Does he do the obsessive broody thing where he's going to stalk me? Try to get me back? Get revenge?" Buffy flopped down on the couch, head tipped back in exhaustion.

Giles yelped as he saw the exposed, obvious bite. "Buffy! Your neck!"

"Oh, come on! You knew he was-"

"You're not covering it up!" Giles hissed.

"Your scarf, Luv!" Spike called.

"It's in your coat pocket!"

Giles swiveled his head as if watching a tennis match. The affectionate, easy resonance in their voices was making his eyes narrow worriedly. The microwave beeped in the kitchen and Spike remerged, a black silk scarf held in one hand, a mug of blood in the other.

"The guys are going to think it's weird," Buffy huffed as she draped the silk lovingly across her throat and then undid her hair and smoothed down over her shoulders.

"You look gorgeous. No one'll question that. It's your usual look." Spike winked. "Tell her, Rupes. She looks a treat in that."

Giles looked at the white sleeveless shirt and black gauzy overshirt, now topped off with the scarf. "Why, yes. Uh- that is- yes. You look lovely."

"What did you hear from the Council?" Buffy abandoned worrying about her appearance and scooted to the left side of the couch, making room for Spike to join her.

"Ah." Giles rose and paced. "They're coming over."

'Who?"

"The Council."

"What, all of 'em?" Spike looked as if he were about to bolt. "Hell, that'll be a delegation for the ages. Los Angeles International will be drownin' in tweed."

"Do shut up. No, not all of them. But- Travers himself and a few of his select little yes-men, I should imagine."

"Why? Oh my God! They're not bringing a vampire with them to 'fix' me, are they? Because I'm pretty sure I'm fixed. 99% fixed, and in a few days, I bet it'll be even better!" Buffy babbled. "I'm going to kill that vamp. I'm going to kill the vamp that started this whole damn mess. Spike!"

"What, Slayer?"

"I- I need to kill something!"

"Well, don't look at me!"

"After this- so much patrol. You in?"

He looked at her frustrated face- and detected a little smirk underneath it. Ah. Another excuse for the sake of the delicate Watcher's ears- who already probably has a guess at what's happenin'. "In for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well tag along and finish up some business with you before we split up."

"Patrol must come second. I think we've narrowed the field of our research. Has Dracula ever willingly broken a hold, not on one of his brides, one that he didn't successfully - well-"

"One he didn't bed and turn, or turn and bed as the case more likely is?" Spike snorted. "All right, what else?"

"How to keep him in place. How to kill him in a permanent manner." Giles raised a second and third finger. "Buffy had a very good point earlier. Dracula disappears without warning, unlike other vampires. This is believed to be due to magic use, magic use that he's had over five centuries to practice."

"Willow's a crazy good wicca. Maybe she could-"

"Not alone, but we have a triad. Actually… we have four corners."

"Say what?" Buffy looked puzzled.

Spike looked knowing, satisfied. "Ah, Demon Gal. That's right, she was a witch in her human days, wasn't she?"

"Back to 'say what?' Anya?"

"A triad is an extremely strong force in the magical world. Tara and Willow are powerful wiccas. Not to brag, but over the years, I've learned a bit and-"

"You rock the dusty spellbooks?" Buffy grinned.

"I am a weaker leg, but still a third. However, in magics, a calling circle of four, known as 'four corners', is incredibly powerful. D'Hoffryn noticed Anya's great powers as a witch, offering to make her one of the lower beings, the same with Willow. We can assume that at least initially they were near the same level of magic. Anya is rusty, but not weak. I think we…" Giles turned abruptly and went to a leather satchel on the back of his desk chair, "can find something useful- in this." He pulled out a book bound in cracking black reptilian skin.

Spike let out a low whistle. "Where the hell'd you find that, Rupes?"

Giles coughed. "Hm. I had- a friend of a friend of an enemy dig it up for me." He set it aside.

Buffy gave her Watcher a long look. His eyes were underscored by dark patches. His hair looked grayer than just a few days ago, and he had his silver stud in one lobe. Giles is exhausted. He let Ripper come to the party. "I'm sorry you have to go through this with me," she whispered.

"I wouldn't have you go through it without me." He smiled in return. "Now then… the Council. Nothing new to share. Travers shall descend upon us-"

"Like a plague of tight-assed locusts," Spike muttered, flipping through the book of dark magic.

"Have we heard any more from Angel?" Buffy asked.

Spike slammed the book with a hiss, eyes suddenly yellow.

"What?" Buffy rushed to his side, ignoring the startled look Giles sent after her.

Spike turned from her, forcing himself back to calm and collected. No good to act like the controlling, possessive wanker Finn turned out to be, or that Angelus could be, and certainly not the king of possessive, Drac himself. Gotta keep up appearances in front of the Watcher, all her little mates who'll probably burst in any second.

Buffy turned with him, hands on his elbows, peering up at him. "Spike?"

"No, Luv, nothing. Just uh- some powerful spells in there. Just the old bloodlust, y'know?" he remarked with a shrug.

Buffy squinted at him. No. Not that. "Well, bloodlust is good, when it comes to killing Dracula, so I guess you'd better keep it handy. We need a little bit of dark with our good sometimes, right, Giles?"

"Hm? Oh, uh- yes. Yes, in this case."

Spike waited for her to step back to the other man in the room, but she didn't. She slid close to his chest, back to him, close enough to touch, for him to feel her heat, for him to find his nostrils flaring and his ears perking at the scent of her and the rush of blood. Blood that's mine. Woman that's mine. Kindred.

Want to leave now. Want to mark her up again, all kinds of ways, in so many places, so no one else'll ever think she's theirs for the taking.

Which probably makes me sound like the possessing, controlling git she would hate.

Buffy subtly shifted her hips back into his and he slid a hand to her shoulder as if to steady her. She left it there, unmoving. She turned her head over so slightly, and he read something in her eye.

Dark gleam. She ran one finger slowly over the scarf at her throat. He knew the spots she was touching. Likes being marked, but only by me, because it's out of respect, partnership, out of love. Likes being loved. Me lovin' her and wantin' to hold onto her so bloody much'd be a problem, if she didn't want to return the favor.

Giles watched a thirty second scene that told a tale of days and nights spent together. Dear God… He's loyal to her, now. Look at that, that's pure adoration in his eyes, complete devotion. Never saw that, not even with Angel. All the love was always marred by so much self-loathing, so much of him trying to prevent himself from loving her. Spike is utterly hers.

"I did hear from Wesley and Angel today," Giles interjected.

"Hm?" Buffy didn't even turn her head at the mention of her first love.

Oh no. She's his as well.

But- wait. Oh no, I've set her on this path. No, Dracula did. He deserves to die three times, maybe more for good measure.

"Giles, what did you say? Giles?"

But if Spike would be loyal… Would be hers, and love her as his- Good Lord. Could that be something right in the midst of this hell? An equal chance to love and not be left, to not be hurt, to-

"Rupert!" Spike and Buffy were in front of him now, and they shook him as one. "You been readin' that new book? Can mess with your head, that deep dark stuff."

"No. Ah, forgive me, lost in thought. Buffy, why don't you sit down and I'll try to fill you both in on-"

"We're not late, we're functional!" Anya loudly proclaimed as she entered the flat. "We picked up Tara and Willow. See? Multi-tasking."

"And multi-painful. Xander didn't want to be late, so he drove 'extra fast' after picking us up. Hi, Buffy. Hi, Spike," Willow greeted her friend and her friend's- helper? Assistant? Threatening threat-removal?

"Spike?" Xander sounded shocked, then thrilled. "Hey! Are you helping? That's awesome! Wait- is Riley here?"

"And straight to the horrible part of the evening. Sit, guys," Buffy hugged Xander and sat down beside him on the couch, Spike squished by the arm to appear as if he wanted to keep a safe distance.

"We told him we saw you, but- the car ride and the jaw-clenching ruined the rest of the conversation," Willow hissed, beelining for the book that was now in Giles' hands.

"Where do I start? Would you like the good news, the bad news, or the really crappy news?" Buffy sank back with a tired smile.


"Heart surgery! At his age? That's crazy. I mean, in his line of work, you'd think the demons and vamps or stray bullets would - I'm not helping, am I?"

Spike growled at Xander, who ignored him. "So Riley's definitely out?"

"Yes. I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want him."

"But you're in some weird mental state. And he's on wacky loads of meds. Couldn't that affect your thinking and decision making? Or his?"

"Mhmm. But, it shouldn't affect how he treats me. Sick or not, there are ways you treat people. You put them first. You take risks for them, risks that mean something. Riley… I don't want him. He doesn't want me to go see Angel or any other vampire. He doesn't want me to get any kind of 'cure' until he can watch my back in about a month."

"He does realize that by that time Dracula will be back to full power after your stake-fest and you'll be more fully under his control, right? You could have a hold get weaker, if the vampire stayed away, or you could have it double in strength, or worse, especially if he comes back. That's like telling a cancer patient to just wait and see what the tumor decides to do," Anya pointed out, voice rising. "Oooh! I wish I had my powers back! I would gladly give you a two-for-one special, Riley and Dracula!"

"I would take you up on it," Buffy laughed weakly. "But Spike is willing to - play ball. Help break it. We can't tell Riley though. I have to swear you to secrecy. Like- a literal swearing, some sort of secret-keeping spell would be advisable, 'cause he's going to FLIP on anyone he thinks is on the 'vampire's side', even if that's also my side."

"Ooh! Wiccan oath! We can lead a group one!"

"Sign me up as an honorary wicca. Warlock? Male witch? What's the right term?" Xander rubbed his hands together. Then he looked at Spike. "What do you get out of this?"

"Your respect."

"Not likely. But… okay, marginally likely."

"He's saving my life," Buffy pointed out.

"Which is a head scratcher."

"I've lived a long time, boy. You learn to keep you friends close and your enemies closer." Spike absently reached for Buffy's hand and she easily clasped it. "Maybe turn 'em into your friends." If you're lucky, somethin' more. My kindred. He wanted to pull her close, hold her tight. The pain of not doing it when she was so close made him burn and his insides twitch. Bloody hell, she owns me now.

Buffy leaned against him casually, helping both of them deal with the physical urge to touch. "When Spike is on your side, it's a very, very good thing."

"I think the wiccan oath is easily managed. Tara, I'll leave you to arrange that?" Giles asked and she nodded eagerly. "The rest of us should begin researching. As I was about to mention earlier- several times- I do have a lead from Angel."

"Can I ask a question first?" Xander raised his hand. Giles nodded. "Do you eat fruit?" He looked at Spike.

"I eat 'people food', I'm part 'people'," Spike snarked, but then his face softened. "She told me you wanted to bring 'round a fruit basket if I helped. No need. This is not a payin' job. Doin' it to stick it to Drac and get my girl free." Shit! Spike realized too late how he had referred to her.

If Xander noticed, he let it go with nothing more than a slight narrowing of the eyes. "Apples and pineapples and oranges? Standard fruit basket stuff?"

"Yeah, thanks,"

"Welcome."

Buffy impulsively leaned over to Xander and hugged him. "You're the best, you know that?"

He blinked in surprise. "Why, for not being an ass to the guy saving my best friend's life? Even if he's an evil bastard?"

"Formerly evil bastard. Well, the bastard bit. Well, technically-"

"Shh, Spike. We'll take light on the evil bastard-iness."

"Oooh! Spike's not evil. Not bad evil! Show him your thing!" Willow flapped her hand excitedly toward Spike, who sat back and raised one eyebrow slowly, hand straying mischievously to hook in his belt.

"Didn't think that was your viewing pleasure, Red."

Buffy elbowed him, Giles took off his glasses, and Xander rolled his eyes.

"Not that! The pendant! The protection pendant!" Willow's cheeks went a few shades lighter than her hair.

"Ah, this little piece of mojo." Spike deftly lifted it out from under his collar.

"It's still whole. See, it's for the demon who uses his powers for good, to help. If he ever harms an innocent or stops helping, it'll shatter. Painfully," Willow reminded him with a quick glare.

"So, it's not just protection, it's like an early-warning evil alarm? Nifty, Wills. And Tara."

"He could just take it off," Anya pointed out.

"Not gonna. Not every bloke has a trinket from the two best witches in the world. Gonna be worth money someday." Spike winked.

"Giles, where are you going?" Buffy suddenly realized her pacing Watcher was pacing himself out the door.

"I ordered the Chinese, but at the rate I think I might as well walk to the take away myself instead of waiting for the delivery to arrive. Are you quite finished? Not that it isn't important, but-"

"But you're about to blow one of your bookworm veins from holdin' in research-related news?" Spike got up and went to the Watcher's sideboard where several bottles of liquor sat, all of them open and a few of them quite low. "Get this in you, it'll help," Spike poured Giles a glass of Scotch and jerked his head to the desk.

"Thank you," Giles sighed and wearily sat back down. The center of attention once again, he decided to speak quickly. "Angel has been trying to help. Wesley as well, all of their team. Dracula has one, and only one surviving 'ex-wife' of any standing. Countess Ana-Maria Elena Daniela Dracul was his bride for roughly four centuries."

"Whoa! Whoa, wait!" Buffy leaned forward, panic in her voice. Everyone else leaned forward as well, looking at her anxiously. "Dracul? His name is Dracula Dracul? Or is Dracula a nickname? What's his first name? Shouldn't he have told me that if he was going to offer me undead bliss? Also, if he won, I'd be Buffy Dracul. I just bet he makes all of his turned brides take his last name, the sneaky sexist jerk! No. Just no!"

"Women's equalities and surnames aside," Giles drained his glass as everyone sat back with a groan, "the Countess is the only wife who he released without any- without any stipulations, shall we say."

"Say more. What does he usually do?"

Spike snorted. "Gives his pretties away. To favored blokes and powerful beings in his circle that he wants to impress, usually ones he turned, made his own 'sons'- but only if he has another girl waiting in the wings." He retold the heart-rending tale of the vampire bride he'd watched Dracula hand off, only to see the girl stake herself in her grief.

"Breaking a bond, one that was wanted, one that lasted for years- must be incredibly painful," Giles murmured quietly.

"Not to him. He doesn't let 'em have any power. He's the master of one-sided ownership. Oh, he'll have them use the token words to make it binding, but he'll make sure he always holds most of the power. And he always leads it, marks first. Gypsy bastard," Spike snarled.

"His brides are never disloyal, or so it would seem. But hrm- there are records of him casting them into the daylight. Very few, but-"

"So he not only breaks their hearts, he kills them? Again? God, I hate this guy!" Buffy bounced from her seat and paced. "Tell me how to make him dusty in the permanent sense already!"

For that, I believe we need the Countess. She was his longest serving wife, and records say that she grew jealous of his rotating trio of brides. It seems that Dracula had enough respect for her or admiration for her that he broke the hold and let her go willingly, without giving her to another or enforcing some other act of loyalty. Giving his brides to one of the men he turned, as Spike mentioned, makes sense. In this way, he ensures she is still related to him and in his 'family' under his control, full of family loyalty, even if more distantly removed. As for the Countess, I imagine she still has some loyalty to him. That's where Angel comes in. He's going to find her and bring her to us, or communicate with us when he has her." And he will make her talk. Torture her if need be. I know intimately well that he can make a person talk against their will.

Spike snorted, "Tell 'im to make sure he leaves her tongue intact. We'll need that bit to get anything useful."

"Hey, hey, hang on. She could tell us anything. How would we know if it's true?" Xander pointed out.

Giles had already considered that. "Willow, Tara, Anya- you'll need to find a truth spell that will work on demons. She is our best source of information on how to defeat him permanently. We're going to ask her what it takes to finally end his unlife."

"What if she doesn't know?"

"We have to hope she can at least put us on the right path. Travers may have other information, as well. Between our two dubious allies, I hope we can get something."

"The real trick is getting him to hold still. He kept poofing and reforming," Buffy muttered as she kicked the sofa in frustration.

"In the book I purchased today, there are powerful spells. One of them should incapacitate him for at least a few minutes, hopefully allowing you to finish the job. But it is dark magic. Very dark. One witch should not attempt them alone, but we have four corners."

"Who's the fourth?" Tara asked, putting a bunch of herbs and a brass bowl down on the center of the floor. "Can we roll up your rug?"

"Oh yes, sacred circle." Giles got to his feet, but Spike and Xander were already moving the furniture for him. "Anya, would you be our fourth?"

"Me? Yes! Of course! It's been so long since I- oh, wow." Anya's eyes gleamed. "I love this plan."

"This isn't going to put you in touch with your vengeance-y side is it?" Xander asked warily.

"Let her aim it at Drac," Spike chuckled darkly and Xander smiled in spite of himself.

"I'll do the circle, and then we can do the secret-keeping wiccan oath, and then-"

There was a knock at the door. "Dinner!" Buffy realized she was starving. "Oath, then dinner, then more discussions of dusty Dracula?"

"All in favor?" Giles grinned and his guests yelled, "Aye!"


"Angel finds the ex-Mrs. Drac. Wiccas bespell the ex-Mrs. Mrs. Blabs. Council verifies blabbing or adds a load of tosh with a few kernels of pertinent information. Four corners hold Drac in place- Slayer serves him with a load of permanent divorce papers. Two problems," Spike summed up things an hour or so later. He was amazed how much he had suddenly found himself liking these people. But they made Buffy happy, which made him feel unaccountably happy, therefore, he found himself enjoying their company. Still, they talked in circles. He and Rupes wanted to get on with it, the librarian in his pompous Oxfordian summation way and him with the barebones facts.

"How do we get Dracula to come here, or how do we make sure I go to him and he doesn't vanish right when I ring the doorbell? Do you suppose the castle has a doorbell? Is it a real castle? What about plumbing? Or electricity?"

"Focus, Pet," Spike squeezed her shoulder supportively. "You'll never have to live with him, so don't you worry' bout it." No one said a word about the gesture, but he saw the glances shift his way and then away again.

"That is one thing we must work on, but without the method of killing him with any sort of finality, getting him here is useless. Yes, that's one problem. What's the other problem?"

"Timeframe. We better do this before Finn gets out of hospital, or at least before he's done recuperating. He wants to charge in and save the day. He's going to muck it up."

"He wouldn't do that," Buffy said. "He doesn't like Dracula anymore than the rest of us!"

"I don't think he means Riley would side with the vampire, I think he means his interference would cause problems in our plans," Willow said quietly.

"Probably," Buffy sighed. "I have a question that doesn't relate to the death end of things. It's the wedding thing. Vampires don't get married in a ceremony, do they?"

"They can. Dracula has had a few lavish ceremonies from what we read in the Histoire La Trois Mairee, the History of the Three Brides. Some were small and traditional affairs, some were huge."

"So- I couldn't be his vampire bride unless I did the church thing?"

"No. Hrm," Giles polished and gave Spike a look, but the vampire seemed just as interested, no hidden knowledge under his serious gaze. "Sometimes, it seems he just did the necessary action." Blank faces stared at him. Spike's face tilted downward, brows knitting. Spike might not fully understand, but he had at least an inkling. Giles stumbled on, "Vampires - uh- should they bond and exchange blood, and say the significant words the next step to performing a wedding, or sorts, is to- erm. Yes. Presumably they would- hrm- mate."

"What?" Mate?

"Physically. The act of-"

"They have to have sex, intercourse," Anya supplied. "The act of two flesh becoming one with an exchange of blood and the appropriate ritualistic vows and terms of possession. Spike, don't you know this?"

"Nope. Never was around anyone who hitched up. Darla and Angelus were never 'mated' for all their years of shagging."

"So, Buffy has to sleep with him, or else this bride stuff doesn't count?" Willow looked relieved.

"Dracula turns first- then weds. He doesn't seem to have done it the other way around. Once a woman was turned, already bound to him, he would then be her sire and she would feel immense loyalty to him. The bond would strengthen a hundredfold. Any access to her- to her mind or body- would be granted to Dracula as a matter of course."

Tara yelped as the book in her lap suddenly sparked and acrid smoke curled from its pages, white flares dotting her fingertips. "I'm sorry! S-sorry, Giles."

"Baby!" Willow pulled her girlfriend's hands to her lips and blew, putting out the tiny flames.

"So, she can't even say no? He can make her? Force her, and she doesn't have a choice anymore?" Tara's pale face paled further.

"We're not going to let anything happen to Buffy," Giles reassured.

"Swear it on my unbeatin' heart and my shiny new bauble," Spike vowed, dangling the little pendant with a waggish smile to try to ease the tension in the room.

"It's okay, Tara. Spike and I are going to break the bond, and then Dracula won't have any loyalty to call on, anyway. It's all going to work out just fine," Buffy spoke the soothing words to herself as well.

Spike's hand found hers again. "What if the woman was already married?"

"He kills the husband first, making her technically a widow and free to wed."

"If the hubby won't kick it? Say he's after another vampire who has a vampire groom? Never heard of any besides him, but there must be."

"Yes, perhaps there are. Something we can look into, when it's less pressing. I'm sure Dracula would have no objection to killing a vampire who stood as rival between him and the woman he wished to wed. However, in all the stories that we've found, he only takes and turns a human, usually young and beautiful, and then they have a ritualistic wedding or the more primal sort, a - a copulation."

"It's the copulation that seals the deal. Vampires don't go in for holy sacraments. It's about an act of mating and marking. Giles, do you think the Council hires consultants?" Anya sat up eagerly. "They seriously should let me teach a couple of courses- for a modest fee, of course. But I'm a living history book, much more accurate than some of the stuff you have on your shelves. And more attractive."

"Gotta say, if I'd had to study under you or the big, dusty textbooks-" Xander pulled Anya to his knee and she giggled.

"We'll run it past them." Giles gave a wan smile. "We need to continue to read the Histoire. Something in there might give us a clue. Tara, Willow, Anya- you look for the truth spells and any binding spell you think might work to keep him in place. Xander, take the English copy, I'll take the French."

"What do we do?" Buffy asked.

"Well, the sooner you two begin breaking this hold, the better. I believe you also mentioned patrol." Giles beckoned Buffy, and by extension her leather-clad shadow over to the weapons chest by the front door. He spoke in a soft voice. "Has Dracula made himself known today in any form?"

"No. Actually…" Buffy looked to Spike. This was private. The way he pledged himself to her had made the dreams stop, and she hadn't been awake to hear the words, but the intimacy of him giving himself to her felt incredibly special.

"You may as well tell me," Giles forced the sigh out of his voice and tried to smile. "I know that whatever it is, it was a mutually agreed upon -uh- countermeasure."

"She was asleep at the time, but it felt like the right thing to do," Spike began cautiously. He found himself with a crossbow leveled at him and the ice in Giles' voice was present in the single phrase,

"Speak quickly."

"Oh, really? Outside? Show me!" Buffy said in a loud, falsely cheery voice and pulled both of the men so dear to her outside and shut the door firmly. "Giles! Put that down!"

"Steady on! I'm not Drac! I never- I never 'forced' my attentions on Slayer."

"I'm sorry, I lost my head."

"You almost made me lose mine!" Spike yelped accusatorily.

"Let me try again. Spike stood guard over me last night, afraid what Drac might do in my dreams. I was asleep, but Spike said something- special. I don't know if you need to know or not, but- but I-" she gave Spike a helpless look that seemed to say, "I don't want to share, but lucky me, I'm the Slayer. All my special, personal stuff ends up involving everyone." Riley couldn't take that. He hated that.

Spike instead seemed to puff up a bit as he slid his arm around Buffy's waist. "Challenged any claim or hold another has on her. Pledged my strength to her, my protection to her."

"He didn't just take, like Dracula. He gives. We're equals in this." Buffy leaned her head on Spike's chest with a tired smile.

Giles stared. They seemed more than comfortable, more than affectionate, more than loving, even. He couldn't quite place this odd glow between the two of them.

Pride?

Yes. Yes, he is genuinely proud to help her, and she is genuinely proud to have him on her side. Oh God.

Oh … good? Yes, that is certainly- odd. But good. "That's wonderful. Noble. I'm glad." Giles steadied himself on the wrought iron rail by his steps.

"Wonderful?" Buffy looked incredulous.

"Noble?" Spike looked pleased, then tried to hide it under a scoffing shrug.

"I'm so glad you two- you two are partners, not possessions. Was there anything else?"

I'm going to take her away in under twenty four hours and ravish her in the most tender way possible- and then as hard as we can go, provided we're both up to it. Going to fill her up and bite her, spill in her, claim her, make her mine and now we know why it's a wedding night. Spike set his jaw to to hide the smirk.

I'm going to get married tomorrow night. Private ceremony. I bought a white nightie. I even bought a garter. I felt silly and now I feel smart. I was right. Going to take my groom and make him mine, permanently mine. Feel- what's that word? Giddy! Yes, giddy, like I can't sit still, but in a good way. Buffy tried to turn down the excitement humming through her skin and shining out of her eyes.

"Spike? Buffy?" Giles asked as the silence went on between them.

"Nothing else," both of them said as one.


"So… he's pretty messed up," Xander and Buffy carried overflowing bags of take out cartons and empty liquor bottles out of Giles' flat before Buffy and Spike prepared to depart.

"Spike? I guess. But, he has a lot of humanity under all the snarls and swaggering, Xan."

"No, not him. Also- okay, he's in the benefit of the doubt club right now. But, Dracula. He- he made me turn you over to him. He made me put Anya in a closet, lock her up. He made me eat spiders, Buffy. Creepy, icky, eight-legged demons masquerading as insects. And I liked them. He's sick."

"He likes control," Buffy said simply. All these men in my life, they love control. They love controlling me- because I'm the ultimate power. Having me gives them power. Is that all I am to them? She gave a sigh as the dark, hollowed-out feeling that made her so tired, so desperately hungry for the intangible things, like love and peace, welled up inside her.

"I was reading some of that book- the history of the brides book? Dracula? Not a nice person. The Halloween costume people make it seem like he's so romantic and mysterious. He just has good PR."

Buffy looked intently at her usually goofy friend. Under the quips, he looked genuinely freaked out. "I know he's a monster. I'm sorry I- I'm sorry I got bit."

"No! Buff, not your fault! He can do that to a person, he can erase your thoughts, control them. Control a- a person."

"Hey- he's not going to- ooof!" Buffy found herself crushed in a sudden hug. "Xander!"

"I almost gave you to him. God, Buffy, what if you hadn't fought back? What if he- he convinced you it was all some little dream, just come along and get bit, get turned, let me use you and keep you until I get bored." I would have been an accessory to the kidnapping, murder, and rape of my best friend. His sesame chicken attempted an abrupt reversal in digestion. "Buff, I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault! It's not our fault. I'm already guilt-tripping, you don't need to."

"Yes, I do!"

"Or- we could both get off the guilt train. I'll get better. Spike will help. You'll help."

"Anything. Tell me. Short of learning Latin. That's a lost cause. But I'll kidnap a translator or something."

Buffy laughed softly. "Just don't pull a Riley."

"I promise not to grow a ruggedly determined chin and large, perfect teeth?"

"He cares more about control than me. He'd rather I get better on his terms than get better."

"Well, that's kinda dumb," Xander rolled his eyes, making another burst of laughter escape her, much louder this time. "No, seriously! What the hell is the point of giving you rules on how you can get rid of the creepy vamp who wants to brainwash you and turn you into his sex slave? Just get rid of him! If I could bite you and make him go away- I'd say, pass the ketchup. Ew. No. I wouldn't say that. I'm sorry, that sounded so much cooler in my head. The point is-I'd do anything you needed to help you. I'm always Team Buffy."

"Firstly, yes, so much ew. Secondly- thank you. Third- I love you, Xander Harris. You are officially on my very short list of men I like and don't feel a desire to stake. Or kick in a soft, dangly area."

"Amen. Love you, too."


"Hey."

"Hey." Spike puffed on his cigarette as Buffy finished hugging the wiccas and the Watcher. The boy was beside him, tensed up.

"You have to break Dracula's hold on her?"

"That's the idea." Where is this going to go? Prob'ly somewhere unpleasant.

"He made her do things she didn't want."

"Aware of that- hence me bein' here."

"If you ever tried to do that to her-"

"Do what?" Spike took a long drag and then threw it away. The pain in the brunette's voice was evident. It would have been delicious, if it hadn't been a shared pain. Shared fear. Fear that someone would break that beautiful, brave woman standing in the lamplight, laughing with her friends. Fear that she'd be the one shattered, someone's toy to pull apart.

"Try to hurt her, make her do things because you'll have this power-"

"I won't have that kind of power, first off. She didn't even wanna get bit, he used his mojo on her, parlor tricks and conjures. I don't have that. Even if I did, I don't want power over her. She can have power over me, share it equally. A partnership, not like that git forced her into. She wants this. I want this. I won't hurt her, she won't hurt me." Spike hesitated. "Uh-shake on it?"

Xander looked startled. "Do we do that?"

"Would it help?"

"I don't know."

"She's all right, the Slayer. She's treated me beyond decent all these months. I'll do whatever she needs me to. I'm hers." Blue eyes looked away in panic, cover blown. "I'm hers for the asking. For this situation. You get me?"

"I'm super concerned that I do. Probably means I'm slowly going insane. I think you're saying you and Buffy are on friendly terms, and no force is involved?"

She is my friend now. A friend is the one you light up around, the one you laugh with, play with, joke with. Huh. How 'bout that. She's friend and lover. Family. Kindred.

Damn. She's my everything. "Friendly terms. Extends to you and the rest of the white hats, of course. It'd have to, for her to be happy."

Xander paused. For her to be happy. He hadn't seen her happy in so long. He couldn't remember even a single solid week when something ugly didn't rear its head to hurt her, make her fight for her life. "If you make her better- and keep her happy- that does make me happy, in a very nauseated way. Not the happy part, the you doing it part."

"I got that, you daft idiot." Spike hesitated, took his hand out of his pocket, winced a bit, put it down, and then held it out with a grimace. "Shake on it. To protect she who needs no protection, to guard her happiness, brothers in arms." Soddin', flippin' flamin' bloody buggerin' HELL. Fancy-ass language and big words now? Now? With the annoyin' idiot boy? What the-

"Geez, Spike, in this century we just say 'deal', but yeah," Xander shook Spike's hand with the same sort of painful grimace.

Pulled apart with a shock. Something warm seemed to flicker in their palms, like a pulse of heat and light. "Oh fuck," Spike muttered.

"What was that?" Xander pulled his hand back quizzically.

"I have no idea. Ever since I agreed to help Buffy, strange words keep poppin' into my head and findin' their inconvenient way outta my mouth," Spike groaned quietly.

"It's okay. It was- kinda poetic. Nice. I mean, it makes sense. If we're fighting on the same side- brothers in arms. That's a military thing. Kinda cool," Xander smiled at Spike. Then went cross-eyed, trying to peer down and see his own mouth. Had he just smiled at Spike? Had he just complimented Spike? What was worse- had he just meant it? "Ow!" Xander rubbed his temples viciously.

"I know the feeling," Spike muttered.

"Okay, patrol time!" Buffy bounced over to stand between Spike and Xander, feeling curiously energetic.

"Two minutes, Luv. Watcher? With me." Spike jerked his head to the front door and Giles shuffled over with a longing look toward his comfy chair.


"I think I messed up somehow. Don't stake me!"

"What? Messed up how? When? Everything seemed quite- quite satisfactory a few minutes ago," Giles gave the nervously pacing vampire a flummoxed look.

"Earlier today, had a thought. Mystical little words, popped in my brain. Blood of my blood is blood to me."

"Regarding?" Giles' puzzled expression deepened.

"Well, that's her now. Buffy. Kindred to me, blood to me. And when I saw the wicca set earlier today, I was happy to see them. Happy when we had a moment together, talkin' nicely, not tradin' barbs. I always liked Red. Like Tara, too. Love Demon Gal, she's the only ruddy one of you I understand half the time."

Giles' face turned mildly impatient. "You dragged me out here to tell me you enjoy spending time with three charming young women? Well, one of them is a bit blunt, but I suppose she has charms of a sort. I see no surprise."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. I suppose I do." Spike treated us as conveniences. We treated him in a similar fashion. Prior to that, we treated each other as enemies, then uneasy partners in a truce. "Well, it's not a problem, treating an ally better than a mere fixture, a pawn."

"You don't understand! These words keep coming up, comin' into my head, out of my mouth. I think it's the bond. I -just now- uh- called Xander a brother in arms, and we shook on it, and it felt tingly. Don't give me that look!"

"He's a very handsome man. Lots of heavy lifting these days, rippling musculature." Giles allowed himself a muted smirk at the irritated vampire.

"I'm sure he's a real looker, but my tastes run more to the feminine and lethal these days." Spike jerked his head toward the interior. Shit. Again!

Did he just admit he has an attraction to Buffy? Well, that was no secret to me, but he's rather outed himself now. And he looks concerned and miserable. "I doubt the words are harmful. What were they again?"

"Blood of my blood is blood to me. Then, lemme think, with Xander I said, 'To protect she who needs no protection, to guard her happiness, brothers in arms.' Then we shook on it. It felt like a throb. A tingle on the skin."

Giles tilted his head. "Blood of my blood… Hang on. I need the King James."

"He's a bit passed on, Rupert. You're a few centuries late, but we could raise his ghost if you needed a quick word."

"The Bible! King James Version of the- never mind." Giles darted into the house and went to a shelf where religious literature nestled among prophecies. They often had similar weight in the supernatural world. On a hunch, he grabbed another book as well, a worn leatherbound novel.

"Can we go? Why the big book rush? Should I be reading something?" Buffy looked at her Watcher and Spike curiously.

"Checking on- er- something," Giles disappeared back outside. "Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh… Genesis," he muttered once he settled against the railing. "Adam's words to Eve, as they became husband and wife, family."

"I didn't say-"

"Wait for it-" Giles hushed the impatient peroxide vamp. He flipped the novel open and ran his hand over a few pages. "Ah. 'And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin.'"

"What book is that?"

"Bram Stoker's Dracula."

"Bloody hell."

"Spike, this is considered a work of fiction. To an extent, I'm sure the story is fictional. But, we know that Dracula boasts and reveals many vampiric secrets. I believe the words he used here are not just made up by the author, but were probably words Dracula has used when claiming and turning a victim. It means- well, family. Kindred. We already knew you and Buffy would have to exchange some term of possession, ownership."

"Partnership," Spike insisted. "Don't own her unless it's mutual."

"Very well. The point being, you seem to have taken Buffy very firmly as your family. The vampiric variation can be taken two ways, as you calling Buffy family, the demonic equivalent of bone of my bone, since you use blood to bond, not other physical properties. She is blood of your blood. And then you said blood of my blood is blood to me- you claimed her family as your family."

"I'm not gonna go around bitin' all of you!" Spike looked sickened. "No! That's- that's not on. Donated in a bag, maybe, but-"

"Do shut up. Buffy sees us as her family, brother, sisters, father. It's a mutual feeling," Giles knew that feeling very intimately. The feeling of being a father with no right to call himself one, but that had never stopped him from embracing her as a daughter, or her from returning the gesture. "You seem to know her extraordinarily well, in a very short time."

"Bond'll do that. But keep it down, all of 'em don't know we've been at this already." Spike cast an anxious look inside.

"Quite. I wouldn't worry, Spike. You claiming to care for Buffy's family is simply a perk for her. A nice sentiment."

"Sentiments don't make you feel like you grabbed a lightbulb," Spike insisted.

Giles considered. "No. They don't. Have these words come out other times as well? Last night when you challenged Dracula's claim, that was an episode of 'mystical little words'?"

"Happened a few times. Think it's happened with Buffy, too."

"Extraordinary. It's something innate. Vampires bite, but this goes beyond that. There is something that metaphysically binds you, some unknown force, unseen chains. I think you and she are experiencing that. It doesn't seem to be harmful."

"I'll never be able to let her go at this rate." Spike rubbed his chest in a tight circle, heart feeling full and painful. "So bound up with her. Even her family. I pledged myself to her, I'll never…"

"Never let her go?" Giles' voice was quiet and sharp. Spike gave him a sudden glance. A scared glance.

One word from pale lips. "Please."

Giles grasped his books tighter. Knowledge contained in them was proving sadly inadequate. Please? Please what? Please let him keep this bond, when we specifically agreed he would let her go- but that was before so much passed between them, so quickly.

"Please?" Giles repeated softly.

"Please don't hurt her," Spike breathed out.

The graying man felt his insides tighten and his heart spasmed. "What have you done?"

Spike shrugged. "I don't even know. I never tried to do anything wrong. For her, for her family, I could be right."

Buffy pushed the door open, smiling as she said, "Do British people tell time differently than Americans? 'Cause your two minutes turned into ten. Spike, we should- what's wrong? Giles? What's wrong?" Buffy emerged completely, closing the door firmly behind her.

Spike said nothing, just held out his hand, and she took it automatically. "You're hurting," Buffy stated. She could feel it. A faint throbbing, a dull pain in her ribs. "Giles, why does he hurt?"

"Because he gave himself to you too fully. He bound himself to you too tightly, and it'll hurt to release you. It will likely hurt you both." Giles answered gently, eyes never leaving the pair of faces before them. Spike looked aggrieved, and her face went hard.

"He doesn't need to release me any time soon."

"The longer it lasts, the harder it will be to undo," he reminded her.

"That's the point."

"Slayer-"

"We promised we wouldn't hurt each other. This arrangement was not about pain, it was about ending pain." Buffy took Giles hand in her free one. "You're both family to me. Family sticks together." Buffy felt a surge on one side of her, and a broken sparking on the other. Her head tilted. It was like she could hear something faintly whispering way in the back of her mind, reminding her that she knew the thing to say to fix it. "Family protects each other. I protect you. You protect me. We protect." She swallowed. No. Words weren't done. "We protect. Strength for strength," she gripped Giles' hand hard, "blood for blood," she gave Spike's hand an answering grip.

Giles' eyes flared open wide as he felt the single weak current of heat in his hand. "What was…"

"Told you," Spike said smugly.

"Did you guys just have a weird burst of static electricity?" Buffy looked at her black gauzy overshirt accusingly. "I need to use dryer sheets. Mom says dryer sheets help with static cling."

"It's static from the ethereal plane, Luv," Spike put his arm around Buffy's shoulders and rested his jaw on her hair.

"Huh?"

"The local outlaw is now the in-law," Spike chuckled, no longer as worried and now rather enjoying Rupert's discomfiture.

"And I repeat, huh?"

"You and Spike have a very, very strong bond," Giles gasped. "It seems to encompass a feeling of love -or loyalty, yes, loyalty and protectiveness to your family."

"Like - when a couple gets married, they extend their family?"

"Quite."

"But it's not bad? It just means you have someone loyal to you and who wants to keep you safe?"

How could he say, "But I don't want to be kept safe by a vampire?" when he was in essence asking Spike to keep his most precious thing, his heart's child, safe? Hypocrisy was a stock-in-trade of Watchers. He had never been more proud to be fired as he was able to place a kiss on her forehead and reply, "You're right. It's perfectly fine. Loyalty- unbreaking loyalty is a very good thing in this very bad world."

To be continued...

So, I ended up writing a sexy little vampire piece called Vampire in Vegas and then the rollercoaster of vampire-y smut took over and I wrote a SECOND piece called Vampire in Vegas: Quartet. Both are on Amazon under the name S.C. Principale. And there's a whole spuffy-inspired series called CrossRealms, also under S.C. Principale and if you like erotica with a "bite", I hope you'll try it!

Thanks, Sweet