Chapter One

Rome. City of romance, of emperors, of beauty. The city where victors marched triumphantly through the streets being cheered by the crowds, conquering heroes returning. The two vampires both sighed heavily as they made their way back to the hotel, resignation and disappointment predominating their thoughts. Angel's shoulders were hunched, his almost perpetual pouting frown firmly in place, Spike noticed. His own hands were clenched in his pockets, fingernails drawing just a little blood. A little physical pain to accompany the heartbreak of discovering he'd been right all along.

"How about raiding the mini bar?" Angel's sullen voice cut through the mist of despair swamping Spike's mind.

The blonde looked up, held Angel's gaze. "Maybe when we get back to the office, mate. Think I'm just gonna go for a walk and a smoke, you know?" Angel sighed again and Spike was forced to suppress a growl of irritation.

"Yeah, I get you. Don't...don't stay out too late, okay, William?" Spike was surprised to hear the concern in his companion's voice, and his eyebrow lifted, a smirk curling his lips.

"Don't fret, Peaches. I'll be back before dawn to tuck you in!"

Annoyance clouded Angel's swarthy features and Spike grinned to himself for the merest of moments before heading out into to night.

Wandering through the near deserted streets, Spike allowed himself to fall headlong into the abyss of self pity. Angel was such an idiot. Buffy's running around with the Immortal was no damned slight to the self torturing vampire, far from it. Nope, the Slayer was simply trying to replace her first lover every time she hooked up with another of the legion of the undead, and Spike had always known it. He'd fooled himself for a while, held out hope that she would see him for just...him, Spike, William the Bloody, the one who loved her for everything she was and could be, not an ideal, a goddess on a pedestal. He'd even cherished her last words to him, wrapped them around him as a ghost of her, wanting to believe it was true even when he denied it to her face. Dracula, Spike and now the Immortal. No wonder it had been so hard to get that bloody demon head - the Immortal must on some level realise that he might have Buffy, but some part of the Slayer would always want Angel, would always be trying to recapture the magic she'd found with his grandsire. And that would rankle. Spike grinned in spite of himself - well, in some small way it was a comfort to know that the Immortal didn't always get quite what he wanted.

The waves of misery poured over him once again soon enough, however. There was no satisfaction for him knowing he'd been nothing more than a substitute for the walking sulk that was his grandsire, even if a small part of him knew that wasn't strictly true. Dawn had never liked Angel, never been friends and hung out with Angel like she did with Spike. Dawn had become like his sister over the years and that was something he'd have that was all his own. Time spent with Dawn.

Spike stopped, half smoked cigarette dropping to the cobbles. How stupid was he? The sulk and he had legged it all this way just because of Buffy, and here Spike had never even asked Andrew about the Bit! Well there was a way to fix that at least, he decided, breaking into a run.

He knew Andrew had gone out, they'd seen him leave, so he knew there might not be anyone in the apartment. He deliberately squashed the thought that the Immortal and Buffy might be in there with the lights out, not really wanting to contemplate his gorgeous girl in the arms of that smug, pompous, overbearing bastard. He concentrated hard, trying to sense whether anyone was home, unable to stop himself. The compulsion to see her was overwhelming, just one more glimpse, maybe just to watch her face while she slept. His fists clenched again in frustration: he could feel himself taking on more and more of Angel's woebegone habits. He sensed someone, alone in the third floor apartment and decided to take his chances, circling round to the back of the building to find a way up.

Dawn woke suddenly, unsure what had interrupted her dreams of being adored by the latest boy band, but reached under her pillow for the long dagger she kept there. She'd been training with Buffy again even though they were under the Immortal's protection in Rome, because you just never knew what was coming next. She reached out with her senses, trying to find out what had disturbed her rest and knew there was someone in her room.

"Buffy?" She whispered, hoping her sister was just watching over her. A low chuckle she'd never thought to hear again rewarded her.

"Not quite, pet."

Dawn's heart was in her mouth. Spike was dead. She knew he was, Buffy had told her everything that happened, and when the Hellmouth collapsed dragging Sunnydale with it, she knew he'd been buried along with everything else she'd once held dear. Keeping a firm grip on the knife in her hand, she cleared her throat.

"Spike? Are..are you a ghost? Have the Powers sent you? Oh my god, you're the First again, aren't you?" Dawn's voice and breathing elevated to dangerous levels as her mind raced. The First, in Rome, in her room. And Buffy was out somewhere and she was all on her own....The light suddenly came on and she was startled, blinking, forced to raise an arm to shield her eyes. In the next second the knife dropped to the floor and she threw herself across the room, engulfing the solemn looking vampire in a huge bear hug.

Spike tried to brace himself as he caught the girl, who'd certainly grown even taller since he'd seen her last. His arms went to her shoulders and patted them awkwardly. He heard Dawn's frantically beating heart and her mumbled words, "Ohmigod it's you it's really you!" His arms curved round her a little more and he gingerly returned the hug, feeling shudders rippling through her slight frame.

"You bastard!" He was unprepared for the slap that connected with his cheekbone, rocking his head back. Dawn had jumped back from him, tears streaming down her face, a look of anguish filling her eyes.

"Ow! Bloody hell, what's that for?" He shouted, lifting his hand to his bruised jaw. He noticed that Dawn was packing quite a punch these days.

"Where have you been? I thought you were dead! I've spent months crying about you, missing you, knowing I didn't get to say goodbye! And now you just turn up?"

"Calm down, Bit, it's a long story. And yeah, I was dead...for a while. Listen, just sit down and I can tell you, right?"

"How do I know it's you, huh? You could just be some trick..." Dawn squeaked as Spike's hand covered her mouth. His skin was cool to the touch as it always had been, and he smelled of leather, nicotine and just, well, Spike. She reached up and poked him in the ribs with one finger, causing him to twitch and shy away. Hmm. Still ticklish in the same spot then.

"Oi! That's not fair!" He exclaimed, and began tickling her until she was breathless and hoarse from shrieking.

"Okay, okay!" She panted. "I believe it's you! But you still haven't answered my question about where you've been," she pointed out, eyes narrowing.

Spike sat back and lounged on the end of her bed. "Not sure this is really a good bedtime story, but you did ask for it."

When he got to the part about the insane Slayer in LA, he glossed over his personal torment by the deranged bint, and just mentioned how he and Angel had found the girl and were going to look after her when Andrew had turned up.

"What do you mean, Andrew turned up?" Dawn asked him sharply.

"Just that, Bit. Andrew turned up with a squad of slayerettes just as Angel and I had found the girl at the docks, and he gave us a tongue lashing and took her away," Spike explained, wondering what he'd said wrong. Dawn threw her pillow across the room as she got up, shouting.

"I don't believe that guy!" She spun round, trapping his blue eyes in a steely gaze. "He's known all this time that you were alive and didn't say one word! Not one word to me or to" she broke off. "I am so gonna kick his ass," she muttered.

Spike looked down, unsure how to take that bit of news. He'd figured Andrew would have reported everything to the Slayer, filled in all the little details, regardless of the little chat they’d had. But here was the nibblet saying that she didn't know, that Buffy didn't know....He shook his head. There was no way Buffy wouldn't know he was alive. The Immortal knew, and he'd....Oh no, the Immortal wouldn't say one word, would he? That would give the Slayer options, something else to think about, maybe?

Dawn sat down closer to Spike and reached her hand out to rest on his arm.

"We're going to have to tell Buffy, Spike. I just, I mean....I'm not sure how she's going to take it."

"Heya Dawnie, how was school? Still enjoying it?" Buffy was smiling as her younger sister entered the apartment. Dawn grinned back.

"Yeah, it's still weird doing math in Italian, but I don't think the language is what makes calculus incomprehensible."

"Still up for our training date tonight?" The older Summers loved the fact that she could share her Slayer side with Dawn, something that had only been made possible by Willow's spell. With so many other Slayers out there, she had finally been able to relax; the sole responsibility for keeping the forces of darkness at bay was a burden she had happily relinquished.

"Oh yeah. I've been practicing, I am so gonna trash you," Dawn teased.

"Sounds like you've been dreaming, not practicing," Buffy retorted dryly.

Dawn took a deep breath. She and Spike had been trying to figure out a way for Buffy to meet him, and now was the time put their plan in action.

"How about we do a run through Cimitero Protestante? Maybe some of the catacombs? It's been a while since we did any field practice, and I saw in the paper that there've been quite a few burials there recently," Dawn knew she was talking too quickly, in imminent danger of babbling but she was riding a nervous high.

"Hmmm, well you know that there's not much point given the Immortal takes care of that sort of thing, but I guess it couldn't hurt. If nothing else, I can pretend to be a big nasty monster for you to take care of," Buffy smiled indulgently. Dawn jumped up and down inwardly. So far, so good.

"Cool! Just let me go change and we can warm up." The tall teenager ran to her room, slamming the door and grabbing her cell phone. Diving into the closet and closing the door behind her, she flicked through her phone's address book and pushed the button to call Spike.

"Hullo?" the grumpy British voice sounded husky.

"Spike, it's me. I woke you up didn't I?"

"Umm, yeah, Bit, but it doesn't matter. What's up?"

"I've managed to talk Buffy into taking me out on patrol tonight. Can you get to the Cimitero Protestante? We'll swing through there at some point. There should be enough cover for you to lurk, and umm, well, it's kinda pretty," Dawn finished lamely, hating the fact that she was no good at this romantic stuff.

In his hotel room, Spike was already on his feet, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair.

"Uh, sure, Nibblet. I'll find it. Address?" He grabbed the complimentary stationery and a pen, scribbling while Dawn rattled the location off.

"Umm, Spike?"

"Yeah, Bit?"

"Don't wear your jacket. Just wear a t-shirt, and umm, maybe a red shirt. Maybe some cologne too."

Spike's eyebrows drew together. The Bit was giving him instructions on how to dress for Buffy? Bloody bossy Summers women!

"Yeah, right. I'd best get going if we're meeting up later, alright?"

"Sure thing. Ciao!"

Dawn rang off before risking discovery, her heart thumping. She couldn't shake the nerves that accompanied her excitement at reuniting Buffy and Spike. Her sister had been a mess for months after the battle with the First, often letting Dawn sleep in her bed as they comforted each other in their grief. Even though Buffy was dating the Immortal, Dawn knew her older sister was holding him at arms length, unwilling to let yet another man in and risk him causing her heartache. Dawn wasn't sure how involved Buffy was with the Immortal, and like she was going to ask. Nope, she didn't really want to hear about her sister's sex life, thank you very much. Sisterly closeness only went so far.

A couple of hours later the pair had wandered out into the warm Italian night. Dawn had bitten her tongue to restrain from suggesting an outfit and maybe some more make-up to Buffy - that would so totally get her suspicious. She snuck a look at her sister, the legendary Slayer. Her golden hair was down, back to the shoulder length that Spike had preferred, and she was wearing brown leather pants teamed with a cream wraparound top that set her tan off wonderfully. Okay, her sister was always going to look gorgeous. Dawn sighed. Why hadn't she gotten the blonde hair and the tan genes? Those monks had so much to answer for if she ever ran into them.

The girls made their way to the nearest entrance to the catacombs. Dawn shrugged off the brief sense of unease she felt upon descending the steps and feeling the earth close around her. Ever since she'd been underground with Buffy when Willow had lost control of her magic, confined spaces had felt uncomfortable. However, she figured it must be worse for Buffy so saying anything just seemed selfish and pathetic. Resolutely, the brunette suppressed her shiver and took point, leading the way through the underground tombs.

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Spike pulled out another cigarette and crumpled the now empty pack in his fist. His nerves were on a knife-edge as he hid behind a mausoleum waiting for Dawn to turn up with big sis in tow. How in hell did he let himself get talked into this? He still had no idea what he was going to say to Buffy when he did see her - assuming of course that he didn't turn into his usual idiot self at the sight of her and say something stupid.

After an hour or so, his senses tingled, warning him of the approach of something supernatural, Bracing himself, Spike peered around the corner of the granite edifice, hoping for a glimpse of his golden goddess. For a long moment, he couldn't see anything, until he unleashed his demon to enhance his vision. Across the cemetery he saw a flicker of movement, and a moment later he felt a brief rumbling of the earth. What the bloody hell was going on? Stealthily he moved closer to the new arrivals, senses wide open to catch any clues. He caught one scent that caused him to suppress a growl. The Immortal. Now what could he be doing creeping around graveyards? Voices, too low for him to make out, drifted though the still night air. He inched ever closer, intrigued.

"I still require three. Carlinian, Harendil and Aurelian. I need them within the next two weeks. I don't care what you have to do or how much it costs," The Immortal was telling an unseen companion.

Spike's ears pricked up. Aurelian? What did the Immortal want with the line of Aurelius? The other party replied in a murmur, and the earth rumbled again. Spike caught the faintest whiff of ozone, a sure sign that a dimensional portal had been opened. He didn't like this. The blond vampire carefully watched as his rival strode from the cemetery and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, half tempted to follow and investigate further. But Buffy intruded into his considerations. No, plenty of time to find out what the eternal wanker was up to. He had one thought on his mind tonight, and she'd waited long enough.

"That was really good, Dawnie," Buffy praised her sibling, who smiled, panting.

"When did this place start attracting Jo'hirg demons?" Dawn asked, wiping her hands on her pants. They were definitely going to the dry cleaners first thing tomorrow.

"I have no idea. Seems a bit weird since the Immortal keeps track of everything in Rome. Wonder how he missed it? Not that I'm sorry, I was starting to feel a bit redundant what with all the quiet on the evil front," Buffy admitted. "Come on, let's do that lap of the Garden of Peace and we can go home so you can shower."

Dawn nodded agreement, butterflies leaping in her belly. She crossed her fingers as they emerged in one of the small cobbled streets near where she'd told Spike to meet them.

'I hope this is gonna be alright. God, I hope Buffy doesn't stake him by accident!' Dawn hurried to catch up with her sister.

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Spike felt her approach as tendrils running up his spine. She was here. He felt the panic overtake him. He couldn't do this, couldn't look into her eyes and see his hopes and dreams crushed by her unconcern, or even worse, her discomfort. She may have told him at the last that she loved him, said the words he'd been longing to hear ever since he'd confessed his love to her. Part of him was still convinced that it was only the knowledge that he was sacrificing everything that had made her say it. That she'd felt obligated to give him something to make it worthwhile. He didn't want to gaze into her clear hazel eyes and see the burden of that obligation. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea. She was close now, though, and he couldn't resist taking the opportunity to see her. She didn't have to see him.

'Now you really are starting to sound like Peaches,' he mocked himself. It was the spur he needed to push him into action, and he had a wicked idea. Doubling round behind the two young women, he began to stalk them.

Dawn looked around, wondering just where the blond vampire had hidden. Was he still there? Had he gotten tired of waiting and just left? Uncertainty slowed her steps and Buffy looked back.

"What's wrong, Dawn? You see something?"

Dawn shook her head, and Buffy stilled to reach out with her Slayer sense to discover what her sister might have picked up. There it was. Vampire. Motioning to Dawn to stay where she was, the Slayer hunkered down behind a headstone and began to move towards the threat, focussing on the presence she'd identified. There. Not a hundred yards away, behind that raised tomb. Inhaling, she sprang onto the stone, stake raised and on the downstroke when a strong hand caught her wrist and held her arm immobile. Buffy twisted in an attempt to kick the creature holding her when a second arm caught her round the waist and turned her. Now at her back, the vampire pulled her in close, preparing for the killing stroke.

Spike could hardly contain his elation at holding Buffy in his arms again. God, it had been too long. Too long since he'd felt her powerful little frame against his. Too long since he'd been able to breathe in her fragrance and revel in the knowledge that she was his. His body's reaction was instant, and Buffy felt it. She went completely still for just a moment, then started to struggle harder as his erection pressed into her lower back.

"It's not a stake in my pocket, love, I'm just pleased to see you," he murmured into her ear.

Cara Mia - Chapter Three

Spike could hardly contain his elation at holding Buffy in his arms again. God, it had been too long. Too long since he'd felt her powerful little frame against his. Too long since he'd been able to breathe in her fragrance and revel in the knowledge that she was his. His body's reaction was instant, and Buffy felt it. She went completely still for just a moment, then started to struggle harder as his erection pressed into her lower back.

"It's not a stake in my pocket, love, I'm just pleased to see you," he murmured into her ear.
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Buffy froze when she heard Spike's chuckle, the stake tumbling from her suddenly nerveless fingers. That voice. She never thought she'd hear that accent again, on this side of the grave or otherwise. She inhaled deeply, almost tasting the familiar scent of him, overlaid as always with leather and smoke. For one shining moment, Buffy's heart sang with joy at the thought that Spike had survived and forgiven her immeasurable cruelty, causing a sob to catch in her throat. But the next second, harsh reality asserted itself, her mind's eye reliving the last moments they spent together.

Beyond them the sounds of battle raged, the newly empowered slayers holding back the First's forces while they retreated to the surface. The amulet on Spike's chest began to glow brighter and brighter and the earth began to shake. The vampire's face contorted in a grimace of pain and Buffy's body was gripped by a chilling fear she'd not experienced even when facing the Turok-Han. They'd won, Willow's spell had worked: surely the Powers would have mercy on them. That hope was shortlived, however, when the amulet's glow grew more intense and Spike gasped, telling her his soul was stinging. Buffy fought back tears as she tried to pull him from the Hellmouth, trying to put everything she should have said into the touch of their hands, hanging on even as they combusted and she felt her skin charring. She tried to make him see, tried so hard to make him understand what he meant to her, but he'd been in no shape to listen, even as he sacrificed himself for her and everything she held dear. The one time she wished he would use his unerring insight to know what was inside her, and he'd been blind.

Buffy's eyes were wide as she struggled to contain her tears in this Italian graveyard. Spike was gone, burned to ashes for a higher purpose. Whatever mimicked his voice and wore his body was a malevolent and cruel being indeed, and she was going to destroy it utterly. The Slayer relaxed against the creature holding her and felt an answering loosening of its grip. In one fluid motion she crouched, coiling into herself, and somersaulted onto the tomb in front of her to land in a fighting stance. Her glare took in how completely this thing mirrored her dusted lover, even down to the scarred eyebrow and the self-assured way he held himself. Her eyes narrowed, outrage strengthening her determination to wipe this abomination from the earth, and she launched her attack.
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Spike had always believed that the Slayer was at her best when she was in action, a being who was only wholly alive in the thrill of battle, and seeing her tonight erased any doubt in his mind. Even when they had made love it was a fight, a contest of wills and prowess, and her ferocious passion had been captivating. God, she was awe-inspiring when her power was upon her, and right now she was practically glowing. He could smell her on his skin, the brief moment he'd just held her creating a disorienting sensory memory, which is perhaps the reason he failed the see the killing instinct in her hazel eyes.

The slight blonde sprang at the vampire, her hands landing on his shoulders as she pushed into a handstand and vaulted over him, using every ounce of strength she possessed to throw Spike across the cemetary. He landed hard, smashing into a headstone which disintegrated under the impact, and he lay stunned as Buffy advanced on him.

Dawn saw Spike wrap his arms around her sister and smiled. At last it was all going to be okay. Her sister would find the happiness that she deserved, a happiness she been trying to achieve when she'd started dating the Immortal. Dawn would have her big brother back, and the three of them would be a family again. The tall brunette chanted,

"Please, please, please," under her breath, praying that Buffy wouldn't overreact at the surprise of finding Spike alive. Well, as alive as he ever managed, anyway. The thought echoed in her mind for a couple of seconds before she realised what she was saying. Buffy not overreact? Oh God.... Dawn was running over to the couple even as Buffy broke away from the vampire, panic rising when her sister leaped through the air.

"Stop it! Buffy! Stop!" Dawn screamed shrilly, sprinting to place herself between the Slayer and the vampire. Buffy's eyes flashed green as she turned to her younger sister.

"Dawn, that's not Spike. Get out of the way. Whatever it is, it's going to die for this," she vowed, moving closer. Spike struggled to one knee, too groggy to make sense of the confrontation between the two Summers girls.

"No! Buffy, no. It's Spike. He's back," Dawn pleaded with Buffy. The blonde turned to Dawn, her anger lapsing to show the raw emotional pain on her face.

"No, Dawnie. Spike's gone, sweetie. This... thing, it's just trying to get close to us. It's trying to trick us. Move away," Buffy begged, watching as Spike began to recover.

"I won't," Dawn shook her head, her jaw set in a stubborn line.

"Dawn. Move. Now," Buffy ordered, desperate to finish off her foe, terrified that Dawn would fall victim to this monster. Spike was now on his feet, raising his chin to lock darkened blue eyes on the girls. Buffy wavered in a moment of indecision. Her rage screamed at her to obliterate the creature that defiled the memory of the man she loved, but her sister's safety was more important. Grabbing Dawn's wrist, Buffy fled from the cemetary, leaving a battered and bewildered Spike staring after them.

"What did I say?"

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"Are you alright, Dawnie?" Back at the apartment, Buffy's adrenaline overload was slowly leeching from her system. Her sister had been screaming at her to let her go, that it was Spike, he was back, and he loved them both. Dawn's face was a study of misery, tears streaming from her eyes, her skin blotchy.

"No! You just dragged me away from Spike. I barely stopped you from kicking the crap out of him! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Buffy sighed. This was going to be a long night. The blonde stepped closer to the brunette, raising a hand to stroke the younger girl's hair.

"Dawn, that wasn't Spike. You...you weren't there when he.... You didn't see it. There is no way that Spike made it, believe me. No one wishes he was here more than me," she said softly. Dawn backed away.

"How would you know? You're so wrapped up trying to make it work with that loser the Immortal that you have no idea what's going on any more. Spike's back, and he's here, and he wants to be with us both like it was before. But you're wrecking it, just like you did at home. I hate you!" The teenager spun on her heel and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. Buffy took a deep breath and picked up the phone, dialled, and waited while it rang.

"Buffy?" The cultured British accent was clipped.

"Wow. How'd you know it was me, Giles?" Buffy was impressed.

"Because only you would call me at 3 o'clock in the morning without a second thought, or indeed, a call to the emergency line. I take it something's wrong?" Giles' sarcasm was strangely comforting, and in spite of herself, Buffy smiled.

"A world of wrong, Giles. Do you know of any shapeshifting demons? Or demons that use camouflage spells?" The Slayer side of Buffy took over, the need to get down to business asserting itself.

"Er...well, there might be a few species that can change shape, or even use magic to hide their presence...." Giles sounded faint for a moment, and Buffy imagined him reaching for a book. She wondered if that was simply habit, or if it helped him think.

"Why do you ask? Have you found something in Rome? I thought the Immortal protected the city," Giles continued. She heard pages being turned in the background.

"He does. Giles... tonight on patrol Dawn and I ran into something that looked like Spike," Buffy told her former Watcher quickly, in the vain hope that it would lessen the pain.

"Oh, Buffy. I'm sorry, I know that must have been very difficult for you. What can you tell me about your encounter? Did this creature attack you or Dawn? Was it trying to feed in some way? Did it want something from you?" Giles's sympathy, coupled with his customary curiosity about new demons, sent a sharp pang of loneliness through Buffy's stomach. She missed her old friends so much - even though they had often united to stop the apocalypse, there were so many times when they had just spent time together. Most of all, they had cared for each other and provided a sense of family Buffy had not known since before her parents had started fighting.

"Buffy? Are you still there?" Giles' concern renewed the tears she had suppressed earlier in the cemetary, and her voiced trembled.

"Yeah, I'm still here, Giles. It didn't attack us, it just stalked us. I started fighting it, and it blocked me. It... It talked to me, Giles. It sounded just like him. I mean, exactly like him, exactly like something he'd say," even in her distress, she blushed and hoped the stuffy englishman wouldn't make her repeat the phrase the doppelganger had breathed into her ear.

"I see," was the only reply. "I'll do some research and see what I can find, Buffy. It may take a few days before I have anything, though. It sounds like this creature, whatever it is, is just biding its time, trying to get close to you, rather than attack you outright. If you're careful, you should be able to avoid it until I have some information," the Watcher advised.

"Thanks, Giles. I think the hard part is going to be making sure Dawn doesn't go after it alone. She really believes it's Spike," Buffy confessed her fear.

"I can imagine, she did get rather attached to him. If you can prevent her patrolling I think you'll be alright. I'll call as soon as I find anything, I promise."

"I know. Just...Giles, please, hurry. I need to know what this thing is so I can kill it," Buffy's tone grew hard.

"I understand, Buffy. Try to get some sleep."

"Goodnight, Giles," Buffy replaced the handset and decided to seek the solace of a bath, in the hopes that afterwards she would be tired enough to sleep without dreaming of cool hands and lips, and sapphire eyes that could read her soul.

Cara Mia - Chapter Four

Spike dusted himself down and watched the two young women tear from the graveyard, a heartfelt sigh heaving from his chest. He should have known it wasn't going to be simple or easy; nothing between him and Buffy ever had been.

Gods, though, it had been worth it. For all the pain, the torture, the times when she'd treated him like a personal punch bag, it had still been worth it just to hold her in his arms and pretend that she was his and that they belonged together. He was aware of the irony of his words to the soldier boy years before.

"To be that close to her and not have her. To be all alone even when you're holding her...."

Somehow, he didn't think that even soldier boy would find his current situation amusing though, as much as 'Hostile 17's' suffering had seemed to be Finn's raison d'etre for months.

'But you did get to hold her and have her,' he remembered. 'She was right there with you, giving as well as taking.'

During those fraught last days leading up to the final moments of Sunnydale, Buffy had finally opened up to him, letting him see all of her, not just the hurt and the anger. The hopelessness of their predicament had proven to be the catalyst which allowed her to show the full range of her thoughts and emotions, crumbling the wall that she had constructed out of guilt, shame and confusion.

The night before the destruction of the Hellmouth and the town that stood on it, it had felt as though she had finally exorcised the ghost of Angel and given herself permission to love again. To love him; to love Spike. The blond vampire hadn't questioned her about the kiss he'd seen Buffy share with Angel because despite anything the First might have whispered, he knew the truth. Buffy had been bidding farewell to her first love at long last, and Spike had hoped that she had done it as much for him as for herself.

'Till you decided to go out in a blaze of glory. Literally,' he thought ruefully. The blonde vampire pulled out his cigarettes and lit one as he tried to figure out how he was going to get close enough to an extremely volatile Slayer to find out if she still wanted him.

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Dawn's tears coursed down her face as she stripped her demon-soiled clothing from her body. How could Buffy be so stupid? It was as though she didn't want Spike to be back, although the younger girl knew that wasn't the case. Dawn had heard her sister's grief-wracked sobs late at night, even though Buffy had gone to great lengths to hide the loneliness Spike's death had caused.

The teenager had resented the blonde's self-imposed isolation - Buffy didn't seem to realize that Dawn too missed the vampire who'd been the closest person to a father she'd ever really known. Not like Hank, who honestly hadn't given a damn, even after their mother's death. Spike had been the only one who understood what she was going through the summer after Glory, the only one who knew how alone she'd felt without Buffy, because he felt exactly the same way.

The anger and anguish ebbed from her body as she crawled onto her bed, reaching for a pillow to wrap her arms around before sleep overtook her.

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Buffy was faring little better than her sister. Lowering herself into the bath and lying back, all she could think about was the sensation of the shape shifter's arms around her, holding her so tight that its excitement had pressed into her lower back. That moment had been so reminiscent of her fights with Spike she had truly believed the Powers That Be had granted the wish she carried in her heart wherever she went; the wish that she could have more time with the vampire who had waited so patiently for her to be ready to love him.

Buffy pursed her lips, compressing them into a tight line as she attempted to master her emotions.

'Stop having lusty thoughts for this weird, face stealing demon,' she told herself. 'It's not Spike, no matter how much you might want it to be.'

Disobediently, her body ignored her. It didn't seem to care that it hadn't really been the platinum blond vampire in the graveyard tonight,; it simply reacted to the promise of him. He'd always had that effect upon her, sometimes just the knowledge that he was nearby was enough for desire to rush through her and override all other considerations until her lust was slaked.

Predictably after the encounter tonight, her nipples were swollen and hard, her lower body wet and throbbing in anticipation, and Buffy's frustration was nearly unbearable.

It wasn't just a physical need, however. Since Willow had ripped her from eternal rest, Spike's arms had been the only place where she had found enough peace to sleep restfully, his steadfast love and care for her allowing her simply to be herself, not the Slayer, not a big sister, not a general. For Spike, just Buffy was enough.

Tears began to fall from her eyes, tracing a path down her cheeks to drip into the bubbles floating on the cooling water.

Not a day went by when she didn't miss him, didn't think of something she wanted to share with him.

She had tried to fill the void in her life and heart with the Immortal who took her to fun clubs and restaurants, showed her beautiful galleries and museums and told her fascinating stories of his past. In the small hours of the night, however she knew she was kidding herself, just like she had been kidding herself with Riley. She was marking time with a man she didn't really want because she wasn't strong enough to admit the truth. She knew she would always be in love with Spike, and there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the city, the Immortal stood in a candlelit room, examining the components he'd been able to assemble so far, his storm grey eyes narrowed in thought. He was so close to his goal, but time was running out. Before him, set on a small mahogany table, were nine jars, each holding the heart of a vampire of different lineage, and to one side, an athame carved from obsidian.

His fingertips traced the runes inscribed along the blade and handle as he contemplated the ritual he was preparing. His dalliance with the Slayer had almost served its purpose, but he was alarmed by the fact that the two vampires possessed of souls had come to Rome. It had been foolish to toy with them, he supposed, but he had been unable to stop himself.

Having asserted his superiority over them decades ago, he should have let them retrieve the head they had been here to collect, and allowed them to leave as suddenly as they'd arrived. When they had nearly run into him with Buffy Summers, however, he simply couldn't resist flaunting his conquest of the young woman - perhaps a less than wise impulse. Even though he was confident he could best them both, nevertheless it simply wouldn't do for the girl to reunite with an old lover at this late stage in the proceedings, .

His agents reported that Angelus had flown back to America that evening, but had made no mention of William the Bloody, which was of somewhat greater concern. The Immortal knew that Spike still held sway over the Slayer's heart, and if she discovered he was walking this world once again, it could cause complications. He would have to ensure that the girl's attention was otherwise engaged, and fortunately, he knew all manner of ways to accomplish that.

A/N: You've read it, now please take just a little time to tell me what you think. It's free, and the nicest thing you can do for me ;)

Cara Mia - Chapter Five


Spike had returned to the hotel after the incident in the cemetery only to have the receptionist hand him an envelope. He recognised the handwriting as Angel's, and decided to postpone opening the letter until after he'd investigated the scotch in his room's minibar, as it was likely anything Angel had to say would not be good. Three small bottles later, the vampire lay on the bed and unfolded the message his grandsire had left.

William,
I know you're not ready to come back to LA yet, and I can't blame you. I know how hard it is to stand on the outside looking in, and also how hard it is to resist the temptation to see her just one more time. Do what you have to do to move on. But William, remember this: she has the chance at a long and happy life now, and it must be her choice who she shares that with. Neither you nor I have the right to expect anything from her, especially if she has found her happiness. It sticks in my throat that it could be with the Immortal, but if you love her, you can't interfere.

Be careful. Not just with her, but with yourself.

Angel

Spike swallowed round the lump in his throat, his fists clenching instinctively. Just because Angel didn't have the guts to fight for Buffy, the nancy boy expected Spike to roll with it.

'You never knew me very well at all, did you, Angelus?' Spike mused.

Granted, since his return to land of the flesh having, Spike had been determined to let Buffy get on with her life. But he didn't try to fool himself into thinking it was for any altruistic reason.

'You haven't gone to her before now because you were afraid. Afraid to see that in the time you were gone, she found someone else and forgot you. Bloody good work, Spike. If she wasn't with the Immortal, would you have ever fought for her?' he taunted himself. The blond vampire gripped his head in both hands. He was such an idiot. He'd not gone to Buffy because he couldn't face the idea of another rejection, especially after her last words to him. If she took them back, didn't want him after all this time, he'd have nothing to hold onto.

"Wanker!" Spike yelled as he threw himself off the bed to pace the room. If he'd told Buffy as soon as he'd reappeared in the Wolfram and Hart offices, there was every chance she wouldn't be with that bastard now. Didn't she say she would always come for him? The blond was so angry he knew he'd have to find something to hurt or he'd never be able to spend the day cooped up inside, so he grabbed his duster and headed back down to the lobby. In the two hours left before sunrise, he was sure he'd be able to find something unsavoury to beat the living hell out of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn heard the telephone ringing, drawing her out of an exhausted slumber, and stumbled blearily into the hallway.

"Pronto?" She yawned into the receiver.

"Dawn? It's Rupert Giles," the Watcher added unnecessarily, given the girl would recognise his voice anywhere.

"Hey Giles. What's up?"

"I've some information for Buffy about the...err...creature you ran into last night. Is Buffy there?"

Dawn felt her blood pressure rising.

"Giles, I don't know what Buffy's told you, but it was Spike. Spike's alive. Well, as alive as he ever gets," Dawn qualified.

"I know you miss him, Dawn, and I know his death was hard on you - " Giles started reasonably.

"It was him, Giles. It really was. God, why won't anyone believe me? He says Andrew knew but didn't tell anyone because he made him promise not to. He's been back for months!" Dawn's voice rose uncontrollably, rousing Buffy. Her older sister rushed into the hall.

"Who is it, Dawnie?"

"Giles. Did you call him last night and tell him Spike was some kind of demon thing?" the teenager demanded.

Buffy sighed. "Yes, I called him. Whatever's pretending to be Spike needs to be made to stop, and I asked Giles to do some research so I know what I'm up against," she held her hand out for the phone.

"I just don't believe you!" Dawn yelled in exasperation and thrust the handset into her sister's outstretched palm, before storming back to her room and slamming the door. Pulling out clothes for the day, she wondered how she was going to stop Buffy from hunting and killing Spike, and how she was going to make her sister see that it really was the vampire they both loved.

'Andrew. Andrew knew....' Of course. The answer had been staring her right in the face. With a look of determination on her features that was uncannily like that of the Slayer, Dawn hurried to the bathroom and made ready to go out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike's energy was fading fast, along with his control of his temper. He'd been in the catacombs under the city for a good hour or so, and there was neither hide nor hair of vampires, demons or even ne'er-do-wells. In another few minutes he was going to say sod it and get back to the hotel before daybreak, probably to find a larger cousin to the tiny bottles of liquor his room held and make very good friends with it. 

'Bugger it. What kind of town is this? It's like a ship with no rats!'

If he'd been thinking clearly he'd have remembered the old saying, but his mind was a maelstrom of anger and frustration. Not to mention the omnipresent lust that contact with Buffy had awakened. Even after all this time, even after her death and his, just one brief touch of the Slayer's skin brought back the feelings that Willow's misguided "will be done" spell had thrust into the spotlight. He often thought of that as the time he'd first fallen in love with Buffy, in spite of anything that Drusilla had said. Poor Dru, so helplessly afloat in the stream of time that truly, Spike didn't think she had any clue of chronology. It made it hard to hold any resentment of her for the chaos demon: Dru was simply retaliating for something that had yet to happen.

Deep in his own thoughts, the vampire was unaware that four shadows had peeled from the walls of the gloomy tunnels and moved quietly towards him. One shadow lifted a small dart gun in its hand and when Spike sniffed, catching a distinctly chemical scent, he had no time to react before the needle embedded itself in his skin and he dropped to the dirt floor. As his vision dimmed, he cursed his stupidity but more than that, he vowed revenge on the Immortal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn hammered on the door to an apartment on the other side of Rome, a scowl firmly in position on her face. She paused long enough to hear scuffles on the other side, and hushed voices, then resumed pounding on the wood.

"Andrew! I know you're in there. Get your ass out here right now!" She made sure her voice was loud enough to disturb other residents of the building, smirking to herself. It was really all about projecting.

A few seconds later she was rewarded with the sound of bolts being drawn back, and the door opened a crack to reveal a very haggard and rumpled Andrew in mismatched pyjamas and a grubby powder blue robe.

"Dawn? Ummm...what did I do now? It's not Buffy is it? She's not mad at me for something?" Andrew's watery blue eyes were bloodshot, wide with anxiety, his features screwing up in anticipation of yet another chewing out. The girl on the doorstep pushed hard against the wood and it bounced off his forehead, making him step back in pain and surprise. Dawn quickly manoeuvred into the gap his retreat had left and put her hands on her hips. Andrew rubbed at his face. The strawberry blond hair was mussed, knotted and tangled on one side while flat on the other.

"Buffy's not mad yet, but Andrew, you should really be worrying about how mad I am right now," Dawn warned him. God, how could he have kept Spike's resurrection from them?

"What've I done?" Andrew whined, genuinely confused. He had the hangover from hell, and Isabella's couch was none too comfy, so he hadn't slept very well. 

Dawn shoved Andrew into a chair.

"How about knowing Spike was back and not saying a damn thing to Buffy or me?" She challenged him, leaning close to him. Oh, that had been a mistake, he smelled like Spike used to after he and Buffy had a fight. She repressed the urge to fan her hand in front of her.

The young man gaped, his blue eyes round.

"H...How do you know?" He was so completely screwed. If the Slayer and her sister knew Spike was back, he was dead, no doubt after a prolonged period of intense pain.

"Because he's here in Rome. He came to see me. And he told me he happened to see you in LA. Want to tell me what the hell you were doing when you decided not to share? Spill, Andrew. Right now, or I swear to God you're going to wish Buffy was here to stop me from kicking your nerdy ass!"

Tears filled the would-be Watcher's eyes when Dawn threatened him. He'd never been very strong, and the young girl had a brief pang of guilt at his distress. The next second that guilt was washed away by a fresh wave of anger. So much time lost, all because Andrew had, for once in his life, actually kept his mouth shut.

"P...Promise....He made me puh-puh-promise," he hiccupped through his sobs. "it was wh-when we went to go and get Dana, and we talked, and he said he'd handle it...." Andrew's voice tailed off when Dawn stood back, a look of disbelief on her face.

"So, just so we're clear...You go to LA to get Dana because we don't trust Angel now he's working for Wolfram and Hart, and in your debriefing you just failed to mention that Spike was there, because, y'know, hiding secrets held by the people we don't trust is just so of the good? Sheesh! Well, it's lucky for you I need you in one piece, 'cos otherwise? You'd be my new practice dummy." She was only half-joking.

"Ummmm...." Andrew suddenly became fascinated by the carpet, knowing he was about to make the situation worse, but somehow unable to resist digging a deeper hole for himself.

"I have to tell you something else. Spike and Angel were here, two days ago. Both of them. And I kinda told them....I kinda told them to go away," he mumbled. Dawn whirled back to him, her hand wrapping around his throat and forcing him to meet her furious gaze.

"You told them what?" She screeched. Unconsciously, her hand was tightening around Andrew's windpipe and he started to struggle for breath, turning red and slapping at her wrist. She noticed his flailing and looked down.

"Oh!" She jumped back, letting the young man suck air into his lungs frantically, coughing. "Sorry," she muttered, not entirely meaning it.

"Get dressed, Andrew. We're going to see Buffy, and you're going to tell her everything. Because right now? She thinks Spike is some kind of doppelganger demon, and if we can't stop her, she'll kill him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later Andrew and Dawn were back at the Summers' apartment, Andrew still buttoning his shirt.

"Buffy? Andrew's got something important to tell us. Buffy?" The brunette called, dropping her keys on a small table near the door. The place was silent, with no sign of her older sister.

Andrew hovered at the entrance. "She's not here, Dawnie. I'll...I'll just go and get some coffee..." he inched away, only to be prevented by the girl's hand on his collar.

"No you don't. You're staying with me till we find Buffy and you can explain to her why you didn't say something sooner," she told him.

After making sure that the geek wasn't going anywhere, Dawn went to look in the kitchen, discovering a note on the fridge.

Dawn,
The Immortal has asked me to go with him to his house in the country today, something about the first pressing. Guess that's a vineyard term or something, but you know me, I tend to avoid the demon that is drink. Should be back just after dinner. Don't go very far till I get back, okay? I don't want you to run into that demon again until we've figured out what it is. I have my cell with me, so call if you see it, or if you need me.

Love

Buffy

"Crap," Dawn cursed under her breath. Andrew's confessional was just going to have to wait. 

Cara Mia - Chapter 6

Spike groaned quietly. He was chained to his bed in the crypt, restrained and helpless as the Slayer teased him, using nails, fingers, lips, teeth and tongue to blur the line between pain and pleasure, tormenting him and driving him to a state of exquisite, agonizing ecstasy. Her hands trailed heat along his muscled thighs, sweeping over his hip and across his stomach, wringing panting cries from his lips. He gritted his teeth even as his hard length pulsed with frustrated lust, his shoulders and arms tensing against the bonds wrapped tightly around his wrists. Buffy's tongue discovered the dip where his thighs met his torso and lingered there, the wet heat so close to his groin burning through his already frayed control. Her hair brushed against his neglected cock and he shuddered, straining harder against the chains holding him in place, and they creaked in warning. Buffy looked up, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Now, are you going to behave, or am I going to have to stop? Remember the rules, Spike," she admonished, licking her lips slowly for effect.

"Dammit, Buffy!" He snarled, battling his demonic urges to wrench free and take the Slayer hard and fast.

"Oh, come on, Big Bad. You're tougher than this," she challenged him, pressing kisses closer and closer to the swollen flesh between his legs to the sound of his increased hisses and growls.

At the first touch of her teeth gently nipping the delicate sac holding his balls, he felt the last of his willpower flee, and he transformed, using the sudden surge of power to break the links of steel with a fierce roar. Driven by a lust and hunger too long denied, Spike lunged for the Slayer, stumbling when his feet landed on a stone floor so cold even his cool skin felt the chill.

His amber eyes snapped open, the dream dispelled by incongruity. Spike took in his surroundings and rolled his eyes: another bloody dungeon. His wrists were still banded with iron manacles, a few stray links dangling uselessly, and he was naked bar his jeans. That wasn't much of a mercy in itself - the drug induced dream had left him with a hard on he could use to break bricks, and the material chafed. Now wasn't the time to deal with his discomfort, however - he needed to focus and find a way out of this place, and then he had to go see a man about a girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn pressed the button on her mobile to end the call when she was directed to Spike's voicemail for the twentieth time.

"It's not even ringing," she sighed at Andrew, who was sitting nervously on the edge of his chair, chewing his fingernails.

"Maybe, maybe he's found Buffy and they're...ummm...working things out?" He suggested helpfully, a weak smile on his face. Dawn snorted derisively.

"Yeah, and maybe all vampires have decided to go vegan. Andrew, how on earth did you and the other two dweebs make an invisibility ray? You're even more cerebrally challenged than my sister!" Dawn paced around the apartment, Andrew's eyes tracking her every move.

"There's no way that Spike would have left without at least telling me. Something's up," she declared with finality. Andrew's brow wrinkled with anxiety.

"He could just be...y'know...drowning his sorrows like rejected lovers do," he tentatively reasoned, flinching when Dawn rounded on him angrily.

"Don't say that! Buffy didn't reject him. If you'd told her Spike was back, we wouldn't be in this mess, and she wouldn't have tried to kill him. Yeah, don't think I'm gonna be in a hurry to forget whose fault this is, you...you...Jar-Jar Binks!"

Andrew's face turned red and he jumped to his feet.

"Stop calling me names! I was being honorable, like a samurai...I was keeping my word to my fellow warrior!"

"Oh, please. Andrew, you have never been a warrior. You're like, the comedy lame dude that everyone just feels sorry for. You couldn't fight your way out of the bathroom. Now shut up and help me figure out where Spike is. If we can get him and Buffy together tonight and you explain everything, then maybe she'll stop with this "kill the evil doppelganger" crap," Dawn absently twisted one long lock of hair in her fingers as she thought, oblivious to the miserable expression on her companion's face.

"Spike didn't say where he was staying, but is there any way we can find out from, say, Wolfram and Hart?" She continued, thinking aloud.

"I'm not sure what they're like here in Rome, but I guess we can ask. Maybe if we drop the Immortal's name into the conversation they'll consider it a favour," Andrew mused, stroking his chin in an exaggerated gesture, yelping as he was dragged towards the door and handed a glitter-covered helmet.

"Let's go make some new friends, then," the brunette teenager set her jaw, trailing her one-man geek squad as they left the apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike had passed frustration and settled into boredom. The only way out of his cell was the door, and it had resisted all his attempts to tear through it or rip it from its hinges, which left him with the proverbial Hobson's choice: waiting for his captors to turn up and then introducing them to his unique form of anger therapy. It felt like he'd been biding his time for hours, although there was no way of telling, apart from the nagging itch of nicotine withdrawal.

'Could have had that wank after all,' he smirked to himself. He was half tempted to see if he could conjure up the dream he'd been so enjoying before his rather rude awakening, but it wouldn't do for him to miss his chance of escape just for a brief moment of solitary pleasure. He'd just settled himself on the floor, back to the wall to which he'd been chained, his long legs stretched out in front of him, when he heard footsteps approaching. He toyed with the idea of hiding behind the door and simply jumping whatever it turned out to be, then remembered the little scene in the graveyard. If, as he suspected, the Immortal had arranged this little abduction scenario, Spike might be able to figure out his rival's little scheme if he played along for a while. Nothing would please the blond vampire more than being able to bugger up whatever power play the Immortal was trying to make, show the ponce that the line of Aurelius never let an insult go unanswered; of course, discovering and foiling some dastardly plot couldn't hurt his case with Buffy, either. Now that was a winning situation. The footsteps halted just outside the door, and Spike stood, hooking his hands through the ruined chains and trying to make it appear as though he was still shackled to the wall. He hung his head, his disheveled hair falling forward over his face in loose curls, and glared with narrowed eyes towards the entrance as a key rattled in the lock and bolts slid back.

Well, it was ugly, Spike had to give it that. Tall, too. Fortunately, Sedran demons not only had vocal cords, but they had enough intelligence to be more than grunts. Hopefully his luck was changing, and about bloody time. He waited, lowering his eyelids until his lashes brushed his cheeks and listening to his jailor's movements.

'Just a little closer, mate. Come to Spike,' he silently willed. His skin bristled with the urge to allow his demonic nature take over and he struggled to control himself, knowing he couldn't afford to waste this chance. God, what was taking so long? He risked a swift glimpse, and swallowed hard when he saw the Sedran arranging some very odd items on a bench - a jar, an assortment of what seemed to be long handled clamps, the all-too common colored candles and a blade with an evilly serrated edge. While pain wasn't something he was afraid of, unknown rituals were definitely on his list of things to avoid, and this had all the hallmarks of an event where he would be playing a starring role if he didn't get the hell out here.

'Torture again. Why me?' Fate obviously loved having a laugh at his expense, or maybe it was simply that every time he was close to Buffy, there was some karmic balance to pay. The universe's way of reminding him that the Slayer was so far above him, so out of his league, that he had to prove himself over and over again. Yet even though it seemed that every touch, every taste, every kiss was paid for with his blood, pain and tears, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Love... it's blood screaming..."

"'Cause it's always got to be blood."

He realized he knew how Angel felt, had always felt, about the magical blonde woman who'd obsessed both vampires since they first clapped eyes on her. His grand sire had brooded, moped and finally walked away from her because no matter how much he tried to make amends for the sins of his past, he'd never feel worthy. Angel would never forgive himself enough to accept Buffy's love, even when she gave it to him freely. He took everything else though, the thought making Spike grimace in anger. Her confidence, her trust, her dignity, her blood and her virginity, and she'd never recovered. Spike doubted that Angel had even thought about the damage he'd done to the woman he professed to love eternally, but Spike had experienced the fallout firsthand. The icing on the cake was that it wasn't Angelus who'd been responsible, it was Angel. The souled, repentant vampire himself, not his evil twin. There would always be a part of Spike that regretted not killing Angel when he had the chance, now he was aware of the full scale of the elder vampire's emotional abuse of the strong but fragile girl.

Spike had to get of here in one piece. The only way to heal Buffy was to love her, and if there was one thing Spike knew how to do, it was exactly that.

To hell with Angel, to hell with the Immortal, and to hell with waiting. Bringing his demon to the fore, Spike threw himself onto the spined back of the Sedran demon, wrapping the trailing chain around its neck. Yanking it tight and pulling with every ounce of his supernatural strength, he braced himself and hung on while his opponent flailed around the room, slamming him against the wall with enough force that he felt a rib crack.

"Right! Now I am very, very pissed off!" He snarled, twisting his arms and throwing the Sedran to the floor, pouncing on top of the prone and choking body and snatching up the blade laid out so conveniently nearby. The demon struggled under the vampire, freezing abruptly when Spike plunged the knife low down into its side.

"Got your attention, have I? Now, there are a hundred things I'd rather be doing than this, so let's make it quick. Why did you and your mates nab me, and what's the Immortal playing at?" To make his point, he flicked his wrist, grinding the weapon into the wound he'd made. Ichor was already leaking onto the stone flagging like black syrup, and Spike hoped he hadn't hit something too vital. The injured Sedran grunted in agony, mumbling.

"I suggest you work on that pronunciation, mate," the vampire grinned, and the unfortunate demon began to talk as fast as he was able. Spike listened in horrified fascination and growing alarm with every sentence, his petty revenge vanishing as his panic expanded. When his captive came to the limit of his knowledge, Spike turned the dagger a final time.

" Where's my stuff?" he growled.

"Only your...coat, left. Room at..end of hall," the Sedran gasped, barely managing to get the words out before Spike withdrew the weapon and slammed it through the creature's right eye with such force that the point buried itself in the stones under the demon's head. In one fluid moment, the vampire was on the move, the twitching corpse and broken chains the only sign he had ever been there.