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Dawn led Buffy out of the kitchen, shooting daggers at both men. Spike
looked helplessly at the Watcher as Buffy’s sobs continued from the living
room unabated.

Spike heard Dawn trying to comfort her sister. “C’mon, Buffy. Don’t cry.
Spike can’t bite you ‘cause of the chip--the thing in his head that keeps
from going all ‘grrrr’ on people. Buffy, don’t...I mean, I’m sure he wants
to bite you!”

The sobbing lessened a bit.

Giles, with a look towards the living room, pulled out the Watcher’s Journal
he’d brought in earlier and began scanning the index.

Spike got up and reheated the remains of his breakfast, grabbing a Weetabix
biscuit from the ceramic jar on the counter. As he sat down and began to
distractedly dip the biscuit into the blood, Giles made a distinct sound of
disgust but said nothing. He was, unfortunately, quite used to the
vampire’s foibles.

As he popped the last bit of Weetabix into his mouth, Spike realized the
sobbing had turned into sniffling. He got up and stuck his head into the
living room.

“Bit? Is she okay now?”

Buffy jumped up and approached Spike, baring her neck hopefully.

Spike sighed and shook his head sadly, frustrated for the both of them.

“No, pet. I can’t.” I won’t, he corrected silently.

Buffy’s eyes filled again and in an instant she was back on the couch,
sobbing her heart out in Dawn’s arms.

Spike went back into the kitchen and flung himself into the chair across
from Giles.

“The sodding waterworks are on again.”

Giles flipped through the journal again. He was sure he’d seen a reference to
primal Slayer behavior in one of these volumes.

Spike continued, not noticing that he was being studiously ignored.

“I mean, last night she was all happy Buffy, and now she can’t even see me
without crying?”

Giles finally looked up from his book and frowned.

“Perhaps if you went downstairs for awhile, she would forget about the
biting nonsense.”

Spike snorted. “Giles, it’s not as if she’s got a whole lot on her mind
right now.”

But he got up and rinsed his mug out, then used his vampire stealth to sneak
into the basement without a sound, although he doubted he could be heard
over Buffy’s noisy sniffling.

He turned his cd player on and adjusted the volume so that the Sex Pistols
weren’t blaring too loudly and then flopped down onto his cot. He replayed
the events of the past day in his head with wonder, trying to make sense of
the situation.

After awhile, it occurred to Spike that he was brooding.

‘Well, that’s unacceptable’ he thought as he sat up and reached for his boots. Maybe he’d go to Willy’s and see if there was any information on the swirly vortex thingy that had spit Buffy out. Maybe there had a been an attempt at opening the Hellmouth again or something.

Cheered at the prospect of actually doing something to try and help Buffy,
he grabbed his ‘travel’ blanket and started up the stairs when heard a loud
crash from the kitchen. He was up the stairs in an instant.

“Buffy!” Giles admonished, grabbing the broom and starting to sweep up the
remains of the glass she’d apparently thrown across the room.

Dawn saw Spike in the doorway and gestured to the glass. “I tried to make
her drink some water. She just keeps crying and rubbing her neck.”

Giles finished sweeping up the mess and dumped the contents of the dustpan
into the trash.

“Dawn, why don’t you and I take Buffy to the Magic Box and Spike can
stay here for the day. Perhaps being out of his vicinity will calm her
down.”

Dawn nodded reluctantly and grabbed Buffy’s hand.

“C’mon, Buffy.”

Buffy turned and held her hand out to Spike. “Spike.”

Spike took her hand and kissed it, then said “No, pet. Go with Dawn and I’ll
see you later.”

Slinging his blanket over his shoulder, he tried to pull his hand out of
hers, and that failing, propelled Buffy towards Dawn.

“Spike.” Buffy repeated mulishly as Spike gently pried her fingers from his
own.

Giles gestured to the basement door.

“Perhaps if you...” Spike nodded and turned to do as Giles suggested when he
felt himself effectively immobilized by the firm grasp of a very determined
Slayer.

“Spike. Mine.”

She spun him around and pulled him into a desperate embrace, fresh sobs
wracking her body as she ran trembling fingers over the old scars on her
neck.

Giles almost growled in aggravation, and made a decision.

“Hell and damnation, Spike, we’re not going to get anything done if she’s
not cooperating. She’s stronger than all of us!” He adjusted his glasses and
met Spike’s questioning look.

“Spike, just use your blunt teeth and bite her, the way she bit you, so we
can get on with it.”

Dawn nodded with approval and a smirk on her face, folding her arms as if in
anticipation of an interesting show.

Spike merely stared at the Watcher in shock as the blanket slipped off his
shoulder and onto the floor, unnoticed.

Dawn noticed Spike’s reaction. “I’d bite her if it would help,” she offered
brightly.

“Giles, Dawn, you can’t be serious? I-”

Dawn cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Just don’t vamp out! No big, right?”

Spike snorted and turned to face her as best he could with the Slayer still
clinging to him fiercely.

“A vampire claiming a mate is a ‘big’, Nibblet. I don’t think I can...I
don’t think I can do it the way you say. You don’t understand what it
means.” He was almost pleading at this point.

“Buffy bit you,” Dawn pointed out reasonably.

“Buffy’s not a vampire, pet.”

Dawn shrugged. “She knew what it meant, though.”

Giles watched the exchange with interest, noting how perceptive the teen
could be, then cleared his throat.

“Spike, we’ll be here to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand. And, I really
don’t think Buffy, even in her present state, would allow you to actually
harm her.”

Spike swallowed as instinct warred with reason. It was against his
nature--at least, his former nature--to resist what was being offered to
him. But as much as he wanted to cover those old marks, specifically
Angel’s, with his own claim, he knew it would bring him nothing but grief
from Buffy’s friends, with the possible exception of Willow. He’d worked so
hard to become accepted by the Scoobies, and was loathe to give up that
acceptance, no matter how reluctantly it was given. And if he wanted to be
with Buffy, he knew it was important to get along with her friends; they
were also her family, after all.

But reason flew out the window as the woman he loved clung to him, begging him to claim her. He looked at Giles.

“Are you sure?” Spike half-hoped the Watcher had changed his mind, but Giles
nodded, his face set in resignation.

Spike glanced at Dawn, who nodded encouragingly, then looked down at the
Slayer.

“Buffy?”

“Spike” she sniffled.

“Do you still want me to--bite you?”

She looked up at him and nodded so vigorously he had to choke back a laugh.
He tucked a golden strand of hair behind her ear.

“I love you, Buffy. I always will. You’re *mine*.” His eyes flashed golden for
a second but he retained his human features as Buffy eagerly bared her neck.

Spike placed his teeth exactly over the old scars. Just as he was
about to break the flesh as swiftly and gently as he could, Buffy ground her
pelvis into his groin and moaned. The musky scent of her arousal flooded his
senses and he pulled away.

“Uh, Buffy...” She reached up and encircled his neck with her arms, cutting off his words with a kiss. She then pulled back and bared her neck again.

He shot a nervous look at the Watcher, wondering if he was suffering from performance anxiety.

“Hold still, pet.” He mumbled into her neck as he replaced his teeth on the old scars.

Instead of holding still, Buffy sighed and molded herself to his body. The smell of her arousal, of her hair and her skin, the very presence of her, was simply too much combined with her tender flesh under his teeth. Before Spike could control the demon, his game face rippled and his fangs descended and sunk into her neck.

Buffy stiffened slightly at the pain, then murmured in pleasure as she relaxed into his grasp. Spike’s golden eyes shot open in surprise, and before he could even swallow any of the elixir that was Slayer blood, he quickly withdrew his fangs. Trembling, he pushed her away as he shook off his game face, then wiped her blood off his mouth with a shaky hand.

Although Giles had lunged forward when Spike had vamped out and Dawn had
started in surprise, they both held back as they realized that Buffy was not
in the least upset that he’d bitten her with his fangs.

In fact, Buffy seemed miffed that Spike had pulled away, although she had a
pleased smile on her face as she held a hand to her neck, staunching the
blood flow.

Spike stared at her with guilt and shame written plainly on his face for a
few seconds before scooping up his blanket off the floor.

“Buffy, I--I told you, I--I’m sorry!” He threw the blanket over his head,
turned without another word and ran out the front door into the sunlight.
Dawn ran after him, but by the time she got to the door he had disappeared,
presumably into the sewer tunnels.

Dawn shut the door and turned to Giles, who had followed her into the living
room with Buffy in tow.

“I hope you don’t think that was Spike’s fault,” she said, crossing her arms
as she automatically defended her best friend.

Giles started to speak but Dawn added, “You saw what she did.”

The Watcher nodded uncomfortably. “Actually, I’m surprised that he was
able to pull away on his own, and so quickly.”

Dawn retrieved a clean dish towel from the kitchen and folded it, then had
Buffy press it to her neck. Before covering the puncture wounds, though,
Dawn noted with a strange sense of satisfaction that Spike had covered the
old scars almost exactly.

She wondered if she’d been hanging out with the undead for too long, that
she’d be proud that her vampire friend had done a good job biting her
sister.

“How weird is our life,” she muttered.

Buffy stared at Dawn as if she had no idea what she was talking about,
then removed the towel and examined the blood it had absorbed with a grin.

Dawn shook her head as she glanced at Giles, who was looking at Buffy’s
towel with much the same look he afforded Spike’s Weetabix. As she moved
Buffy’s hand with the towel back to the wound, she said,

“Giles, you better tell Xander and the others that we told Spike to bite
Buffy.”

Giles began gathering up the books he wanted to bring with him to the shop.

“Xander can--” He glanced up at Dawn, who was smirking at him. “They can all
simply accept it. We did what we needed to do to keep Buffy calm. No real
harm was done, and now she’s happy. Come, let’s get going.”

As they were getting into Giles’ car, Dawn glanced around worriedly.

“I wonder where Spike went off to.”

Hitting the Books