Chapter 1: Spike

Spike walked across the desert, feeling uneasy. He didn't belong here, he knew that, but he didn't know how to get out. The desert stretched as far as he could see in every direction.

Only one thing marred the flat landscape. A figure in black. He moved quickly towards it since it was the only landmark to guide him. As he got nearer he saw that it was a woman dressed all in black sitting at a small round table. A long black lace veil covered her hair and face.

As he got nearer he could see that she was laying cards out on the table. Before he even heard her voice or saw her face he knew it was Drusilla.

He stood behind her and saw her turn over a card. It was labeled death and it showed a young girl with long brown hair. Her face was streaked with blood, and she held a knife in her hand.

She stopped, looked at the card, then lifted her veil. Brown eyes met blue and she said, "Run William."

He did. He ran without direction. She was behind him. Not Drusilla, but the hunter. He had no doubt that if she caught up to him she would kill him. So he ran as fast as he could.

There was nowhere to go. The desert stretched out in every direction. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his pursuer. It was a young girl no more than sixteen years old he guessed. Long stringy brown hair covered her face, obscuring her features. But he could see the most important thing. In her hand she carried a stake. He had no doubt that she was a slayer.

He turned his eyes back front as he ran down the streets of a city. But he didn't recognize where he was. There was no safety for him here, just row upon row of houses that he could not enter.

Behind him he could hear the Slayer, she was repeating the same phrase over and over, "Head and heart."

There was a crash of thunder and it began to rain. Then up ahead he saw Revello Drive. If he could only get there he would be safe. That was one house to which he had an invitation.

Off to his left he heard a young girl scream in terror. He didn't stop to think. He just turned and ran toward the girls crying, even though he knew doing so would allow the slayer chasing him to catch up.

He burst through the door of the house and ran up the stairs. On the top of the stairs was a grandfather clock that read 1:50. The air was heavy with blood and fear. He looked over his shoulder once again. There was a flash of lightning and he could see the Slayer framed in the door. But she didn't enter, as if there were a barrier keeping her out.

He hurried up the stairs, not willing to temp fate. He barely glanced as he passed a bedroom where a couple had been brutally stabbed.

He followed the sound of crying to a child's room. There stood a heavy set man covered in blood. In his arms he held a small girl with long brown hair.

"Don't cry," he told her. "They can't hear you."

Spike roared, and rushed to the man, snapping his neck before the blood-covered man could register what had happened. Spike caught the girl as the man's limp arms let go of her.

"It's all right, moppet," he told her. "But we have to get out of here. I know someplace safe."

She looked at him with wide eyes and said, "I thought it was you."

Behind him he heard a bestial snarl. He put the girl down and stood between her and the shadow figure that had entered the room.

Before he could tell the girl to run she said, "Big sister's angry, I have to go now."

Spike shifted to a fighter's stance, but he could feel his limbs trembling. He knew he couldn't beat the hunter that moved through the shadows. He only hoped that he could delay her long enough for the girl to escape.

She was on him. Lightning flashed momentarily illuminating her dark features that were coved with white clay and her wild tangled hair. She raised her stake and plunged to toward his heart.

He felt the wood begin to pierce his skin. It seemed to take forever as the wood pressed deeper and deeper into his chest. Then she was flung back, and a much paler but tanned hand pulled the stake from his chest.

He was lost in the beautiful green eyes that looked down on him.

"Are you okay?" his angel asked.

"Buffy?" it was the only thing he could say.

He needed to tell her something, something very important, only he didn't know what it was. Then he saw the shadow figure stand up behind Buffy, a bone knife in her raised hand. He wanted to scream a warning, but he couldn't say anything.

Just as the knife was about to be plunged into Buffy's back, Spike woke up.

It took him a minute or two to get his bearings. He still wasn't used to the small apartment Doyle had arranged for him.

He got up and went to the fridge to get a beer to calm his nerves. The dreams always unnerved him. He thought that he should be used to nightmares by now. He'd been having them ever since he got his soul back. Nightmares in which he relived all the horrible things he had done as William the Bloody.

Of course he'd had a brief reprieve while he was a ghost. Ghosts don't sleep so they don't dream either. But since he became corporeal again his dreams returned, although they were different now. They were more vivid than before. Sometimes they were filled with the gory details of his past, but most of the time they were just strange.

Often he was in the desert, desperate to get out of it. It was a little odd that it wasn't the sun that bothered him, but the desert itself. Of course, the sun in a dream couldn't hurt him, but he thought it was rather odd for a vampire to dream of the desert of all places.

There was one thing that all these dreams held in common. In them he was hunted. Sometimes by Nikki, sometimes by the Chinese slayer he'd killed. And often the wild girl with the white clay on her face whom he thought of as the hunter.

But they were only dreams, Spike told himself, no matter how vivid they might seem. He had never seen Buffy in his dreams before. Somehow she frightened him more than anything else.

She had seemed more real than anything else. He couldn't have said what she was wearing, or how she was doing her hair these days, but he could remember ever fleck in her green eyes.

Seeing Buffy tore him up. She had seemed so real in the dream that he longed for her, craved her. He wanted nothing more than to hold her again. But he couldn't go to her.

At first it had been fear that kept him away. Fear that she wouldn't really want him back. Not that they'd been exactly together, but it would be hard for Spike to be near her, and be forced to put a distance between them again.

He could not have asked for a better 'last night' than the one they shared in the basement of her house, even if she did have Angel breath.

He hadn't kissed her, he didn't dare. He understood that sex, that sort of intimacy in general was strictly off limits. He'd forever lost the right to that when he'd tried to rape her. But to just hold her, to be close to her was wonderful.

The closeness had amazed and frightened him that night in a stranger's house when he had comforted her. It had been twice as wonderful and twice as terrifying, when she had come to him again, this time strong and whole. It was one thing for her to take comfort from him when she was alone and scared. It was another when she was back in her own house, among her own friends.

If she had moved on however, if she didn't want him to hold her anymore, Spike didn't know what he would do. So fear had kept him from finding Buffy at first.

And then Doyle had come along, and that had changed everything. Sooner or later Spike would have given in and run to Buffy, even if it meant she tore out his heart and stomped all over it. But Doyle had given him a choice. Offered him something Spike had never had. His own destiny.

He didn't know what that meant, wasn't sure whether he really wanted it, but it was a chance for Spike to figure out where his place was now that he had a soul.

There were still a few hours before the sun went down, so Spike decided to head into the sewers, find out if any trouble was brewing, and maybe save an innocent or two.

Chapter 2: Buffy

Buffy lifted the couch and turned it over onto its back. Nope it's not here either, she thought. Where was it? She had to find it. If she didn't . . .

Dawn! she thought. Dawn's always taking my things. She got up and moved into her younger sister's room. She looked through Dawn's jewelry box first; it was the most logical place that it would be. But it wasn't there. Then she looked through the drawers of Dawn's desk, and even under her bed. It wasn't anywhere.

She opened the closet door and parted the clothes hanging there. She pushed them aside and walked through the closet up the stone steps. The sun blazed above her as she emerged into the center of the coliseum.

The stands of the colosseum were filled. Thousands of girls all young, but seeming to share nothing else in common were sitting there watching her. They were of all colors, all nationalities, and all times.

"I don't think it's here," she said to herself. "Xander?" she asked as her friend approached. "I've lost something."

"You should stop looking, Buff. An eye for an eye," he told her holding out one hand on which his missing eye sat.

"I don't think that's right," she told him. She knew she had to find it. If she didn't . . .

"It's the only way," Amanda told her.

Buffy was sitting next to the young Sunnydale girl who'd died on the Hellmouth, looking down from the stands as her other self talked to Xander.

"No, there's always another way," Buffy insisted.

"We're being punished," Amanda explained. "But don't worry; leave him alone she'll take care of everything."

Realizing that Amanda was only trying to stall her, Buffy turned back to Xander.

"Please, Xander. Will you help me look?"


"Sorry," he apologized as he buckled on his tool belt. "We're way behind schedule on this job. A carpenter's work is never done."

He began to hammer the stone walls of the arena. Buffy looked up and noticed all the scaffolding on the Coliseum.

There was nothing for her here. As she looked at all the other slayers in the stands, she realized that all this was nothing but a distraction. They were trying to keep her from finding it.

She turned to go back the way she came, she walked back into the dark opening she'd come through, slowly feeling her way down the ladder.

She seemed to climb for a very long time. Finally, her foot found the floor. She neatly folded the attic ladder back up, watching as it slid into place leaving only a string hanging down to mark the entrance to the attic.

For a moment she hesitated. Maybe it was in the attic? But then she heard a growl come from down the hallway. She ran in that direction past a grandfather clock that read 1:50.

She ran into a little girl's room just in time to see the First Slayer lift a stake to plunge it into Spike's chest. Buffy ran forward and grabbed the First Slayer, pulling her away from Spike and throwing her across the room.

Panicked she yanked out the stake that was protruding from Spike's chest. She'd been looking for him everywhere, now that she'd found him she wasn't going to let anything happen to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Buffy?" he asked.

She thought he was going to say something else, but then his eyes went wide at something behind her. Without thoughts she spun around catching the First Slayer's wrist before she could plunge a bone knife into Buffy's back.

She twisted the First Slayer's arm, forcing her to drop the knife and then kicked her. The First Slayer crashed through a window. Buffy looked for Spike but he was gone.

Yelling in frustration she leapt through the window after the First Slayer. "Where is he? What have you done with him?"

Her feet hit the desert sands and she faced off against the First Slayer.

"Give him back," Buffy demanded.

The First Slayer was silent as she attacked. Buffy traded blows with her, wondering how she could make the other slayer tell her what had happened to Spike. Because if Buffy didn't find him . . .

The First Slayer landed a solid blow to Buffy's jaw and she staggered back.

"The demon does not belong," the First Slayer said.

Buffy woke up.

It took her a moment to get her bearings. Slayer dreams were like that. They were so real that returning to reality was like getting hit in the water with a bucket full of ice water.

They were never pleasant, but this one felt like someone had ripped open a hole in her chest. A Spike shaped hole. She had dreamt of him before, regular dreams in which he was a phantom, fully dream like. But in this dream he had seemed so real, the look in his eyes, the tremble in his voice. It was as if he'd been alive for just a moment, and then killed all over again in front of her.

She rolled over her bed, burying her face in her pillow to keep from crying. It didn't work. She'd tried so hard to be happy, tried so hard to live the life she knew he want for her, and the only way she could do that was to shut all her memories of him away.

Now they all came back, and she felt so alone. She would have given anything to feel his arms around her just one more time. Just to be near him.

Giving up she sat up and hugged her knees. The tears were going to come no matter what, and there was something more important to consider, what did the dream mean?

She went over it in her head. Slayer dreams were always so vivid that she could easily recall every detail. The clearest detail of the dream was the need to find him. Even when she didn't know what she was looking for, she knew she had to find him. Something bad would happen if she didn't.

But Spike was dead. Burned to a cinder and buried under the California desert. Maybe she was supposed to find the amulet that killed him? But how? She could hardly dig up the Sunnydale crater herself. Or maybe the dream meant something completely different.

And why had the First Slayer been in the dream? A cameo by the First Slayer was not to be taken lightly.

Buffy couldn't answer any of those questions, but she knew where to start looking for the answers, in L.A. with Angel. After all he was the one who had brought the amulet to Sunnydale.

She looked at her clock and tried to figure out what time it was in L.A. If it was evening in Rome didn't it have to be daytime in the United States? She wasn't sure; she still hadn't gotten a hang of time zones.

But calling Angel didn't seem to be enough. The dream clearly dictated more direct action. She had ignored slayer dreams and her instincts about them before, and always regretted it. Her instincts were telling her to go to L.A. She would be able to better question Angel in person than over the phone, not to mention if she did have to go to Sunnydale she'd be only a short drive away.

Her mind made up she got out of bed and got on the computer to book tickets for the first flight to L.A.

Chapter 3: Dana

Dana walked through the desert. She loved the desert it was her home, where she belonged. There was always sun in the desert, and never any shadows for anyone to hide in. She was safe in the desert, no one could hurt her here.

Big Sister came across the sands to meet her. At first Dana had thought Big Sister was kind of scary looking. Her hair was wild and tangled. She was dressed in white rags kind of like a mummy, and her face was covered with white clay except for her eyes, which gave the impression she was wearing a dark mask.

But Dana knew Big Sister would never hurt her. Big Sister was a mighty warrior and a hunter. Big Sister killed monsters. According to Big Sister, Dana was a warrior too. Dana was strong now, and nothing could hurt her.

Big Sister motioned for Dana to follow. Big Sister rarely talked, but it didn't matter, Dana always knew what she meant. Today was special. Today Dana would be the hunter. Today Dana would have revenge.

He was here, the man who hurt her. Except he wasn't a man. He was a demon, and Dana knew how to kill him. Head and heart. Cut till you see dust.

Big Sister led her across the desert to where she could see him. He stood leaning over a woman dressed in black. Dana ignored the woman, she wasn't real, only the desert sand made flesh.

Big Sister handed her a wooden stake. The feel of the wood in her hand felt right, as if she had always done this. Dana took off across the sand, as the demon began to run. His black coat billowed behind him and his platinum hair shone in the sunlight.

He looked back over his shoulder at her, and Dana knew he was scared. She wasn't little anymore. She wasn't a child. The desert was her home and he didn't belong here. He couldn't hurt her now.

She tried not to think about that. About him coming for her, about him killing her parents and taking her down into the dark.

The desert shifted under her feet. She was running down the streets of a city. The streets looked vaguely familiar, as if they were from someone else's life.

It was night. Dana didn't like the night. The man came for her during the night and took her down into the place where there was no sun.

She tried not to think about it, tried to remember that she was strong now, that he couldn't hurt her. But it was hard. It was raining and the thunder and lightning scared her. It was just like the night when he had come for her.

Then up ahead she saw her house. The house she had lived in before the man came.

Dana screamed.

The man changed direction and ran toward her house. Dana tried to catch him, stop him before he could get to her parents. But suddenly she was no longer gaining on him.

He ran into the house before she could stop him. She froze in the doorway, too scared to follow him in. Lightning flashed behind her.

Then she was there, under her bed, hoping the man wouldn't see her, wouldn't find her. Her parents had stopped screaming. They had screamed for what seemed like forever. But it was quiet now, the only sound was the man's boots as he walked across her room to her bed.

She tried to hold very still, to be quieter than a mouse. But it was no good. He found her anyway. A bloody hand reached under the bed and dragged her out by the foot.

She struggled, but it was no good, he held her tightly and lifted her into the air.

She was sobbing now, and the man told her, "Don't cry. They can't hear you."

That's when Dana noticed it. It was a different man. He wasn't the demon with the white hair and the black coat. It was a different man, one with brown hair.

There was no time to wonder about it. The demon rushed into the room, roaring. He closed his hands around the neck of the brown haired man and there was a loud snapping sound.

The arms that held her went limp, and she fell for just a second before the demon caught her. He smiled at her, although she could see that he was scared.

He spoke, and he had a funny accent. "It's all right, moppet. But we have to get out of here. I know someplace safe."

"I thought it was you," Dana apologized.

Dana felt sorry for him. Big Sister was coming and she was mad. Dana had failed to kill the demon. She wasn't strong after all. She wasn't a warrior or a hunter.

Big Sister was there, behind him. She snarled in anger.

He put Dana down and she told him, "Big Sister's angry, I have to go now."

Dana didn't want to watch. She was confused. The demon had tried to save her, but he was a demon, she could sense that. And she had seen him before. She knew that.

She could remember him killing her on a train, and in a strange building with a big golden statue. And she could remember fighting him. In a school, and in a church. And once out in the sunshine. He was always trying to kill her. She remembered that, but it didn't seem to fit with everything else. So Dana retreated into the desert, where she was safe and strong.

Big Sister found her there, and Big Sister was angry. Once again Big Sister gestured for Dana to follow and Dana obeyed. She led Dana to a cave. Dana didn't want to go on, but Big Sister waited impatiently until Dana went in.

The cave was very large and there was a black spiral painted on the floor. Three men with dark skin and dressed in colorful robes stood around the cave. Dana didn't like them. They scared her, but Big Sister was pushing her forward deeper into the cave.

Then two of the men reached down and before Dana understood what was happening they had chained her wrists to the earth.

Dana began to struggle against the chains.

"I'll do better," Dana promised. "Head and heart. Cut till you see dust."

But they didn't listen. The three men moved to the edges of the spiral and began to beat the ground with their sticks. Big Sister moved to the center of the spiral.

The men spoke in a strange language but Dana understood every word they said.

"The dream has been corrupted," said the first.

"The demon walks through the sacred places," continued the second.

"The dream must be purged," finished the third.

The spiral began to glow. There was a bright flash. Dana screamed.

The First Slayer woke up.

She began with her fingers. Testing them, remembering what it was to be flesh. Her body did not respond as she thought it should. There was a heaviness about her limbs. She was drugged.

It didn't matter. The First Slayer was used to the fogginess of the dream, which she had guarded since her death. It would take some time, but she was the Slayer, and the drugs could not hold her for long. Then her sisters would be avenged, and the dream would be free of the vampire that had been drawn into it once and for all.

Chapter 4: The Girl of my Dreams

Spike sniffed the air in the alleyway, double checking the trail he was following and frowned. He'd been trying to track down a young girl who'd escaped from a mental ward, or rather the demon that had possessed her, before she hurt anyone else.

By some miracle the demon hadn't killed anyone yet, although it had imbued the girl with enough strength to snap the guard's bones like twigs. She'd also severely injured a clerk and a rent-a-cop at a store where she'd stolen some food and clothes.

Although Spike was glad there hadn't been any fatalities yet, he was puzzled by it. The fact that everyone who'd gotten in her way had been incapacitated, but not killed spoke of some amount of control. The sort of demons that possessed people were not known for control. They were known for tearing up everything in their way, at least once they got to the point where they made their presence known. And this one was certainly not hiding.

More puzzling, and more troubling was the fact that she seemed to have doubled back on him, and unless Spike was very much mistaken, she was actually behind him.

He spun around and caught the foot that would have kicked him in the back of the head. He twisted her foot trying to force her to the ground but instead of resisting him, she moved with him, pushed herself off the ground with her hands, and kicked him with her free foot.

He let go of her, and she was on her feet instantly. They faced off, and she shook her long brown hair away from her face. Her lips pulled back and she snarled at him.

Spike stepped back startled, and next thing he knew he was flying down the alley and crashed into a dumpster.

It wasn't her snarl that had thrown him off balance, it was her face. He knew her, even though they had never met. She was the Slayer that had chased him in his dreams.

He didn't have time to wonder about it, he suddenly found himself fighting for his life. He kept telling himself that this wasn't a dream, that there was no reason he shouldn't win. After all he'd killed two Slayers, and although he'd never killed Buffy, she'd never killed him either and she was the best Slayer there was.

He began to regain his footing then. Blocking her blows, and getting in a few of his own. He was Spike after all, and she was just another Slayer, dreams or no dreams.

Still she was a creepy bird. She never said a word, despite his best attempts in engage her in the traditional fight banter, only growled at him. There was something savage, and primitive about her. Something familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

Just when he was really getting into the fight, he heard the screeching of tires and both he and the Slayer were forced to jump backwards as the black sports car nearly ran them both over.

The passenger door opened, and a familiar hand grabbed Spike and pulled him in. Spike was sticking half in half out of the car by the time Angel bothered to bark at him, "GET IN!"

Spike struggled against the older vampire's grip. "I was doing just fine," he protested.

Just then the Slayer smashed her fist into Angel's window. The glass cracked but held. Necroplast was strong stuff. After all it wouldn't do for a stray pebble or bird to crack it and for the boss to go up in flames. Even so it wouldn't take many more blows from the Slayer to smash it completely.

Angel let go of Spike just long enough to throw the car in reverse, and then he was speeding out of the alley. Spike had no choice but to finish pulling his body into the car, at least if he didn't want to roll about that pavement at high speeds.

"Don't worry, tactical is on its way," Angel told him as if he'd come to Spike's rescue.

"What's the bloody idea?" Spike whined. "I was winning. And by the time tactical gets here she'll be long gone."

"Look, Spike," Angel explained patiently. "You don't know what you're dealing with here. She's not possessed. She's-"

"A Slayer. I know," Spike told his grand-sire smugly. "Took you long enough to figure it out. Now turn this car around so we can go find the crazy bint."

"You're crazier than she is. She's a Slayer remember, as in vampire. We're the last two people who should be trying to capture her."

"Not all of us deal with Slayer's by running away," Spike said, hoping Angel would pick up on his double meaning. But then knowing how dense Angel was, Spike figured his subtlety would be lost. "I killed two of them, remember?"

"You mean murdered," Angel corrected.

"Well, yeah. I didn't have a soul then, now did I? The point is, this is my job now, and you should let me do it."

"This is not-" Angel was interrupted by the ringing of the car phone. "Angel?" he answered. "Right. Thanks. Make sure everyone's in the conference room. Bye." Angel hung up. "Tactical couldn't find her."

"Imagine that!" Spike said sarcastically.

Angel ignored him. "Wesley's calling Rupert Giles." Spike rolled his eyes. As if he didn't know who Rupert was. Not like he hadn't lived with the bloke and been chained in his bathtub. "To send someone to help us deal with this."

Spike gave up. He figured once they got to Wolfram & Hart he could lose Angel in the cubicles. To bad the trail would be cold by the time Spike was able to hit the streets again.

So he ignored Angel and got lost in his thoughts. Like why he dreamed about this Slayer before he'd ever seen her. That unnerved him. He'd disliked his dreams enough when they'd been simple nightmares. Now the seemed to be full of omens and portents. But why? Maybe he could ask the ex-Watcher, after all, Spike was willing to bet that neither Wesley nor Gunn had ever told Angel about their attempt to recruit him. Wesley might be willing to keep this from Angel too. At least until they knew what it meant.

Maybe it had something to do with all that Shanshu bugaboo. Maybe the Powers were going to cut out Doyle as a middle man, and send the visions straight to Spike. He didn't really like that idea. The dreams weren't pleasant, and Doyle's visions seemed to be accompanied by headaches which reminded Spike of when he'd had the chip. He'd be much happier if people would just stop trying to stick things in his head, even if they were just dreams.

Chapter 5: Reunions

"I'm sorry miss, unless you have an appointment, I'm afraid we can't let you in," the annoying young man behind the big desk in the lobby told Buffy.

"Look, if you'll just let me call Angel-" but the receptionist cut her off.

"I'm sorry miss. Mr. Angel is very busy. You can't talk to him without an appointment."

"So how do I make an appointment?" she asked frustrated.

"You'll have to talk to Mr. Angel's assistant."

A tiny bit of the tension left Buffy's body, finally she was getting somewhere. "Okay, so how do I get in touch with his assistant?"

"You'll need an appointment."

At that point any doubts Buffy had had about Wolfram & Hart vanished. Giles was right. The place was absolutely evil. Luckily fighting evil was Buffy's job.

She was just about to launch her assault on the evil smiling receptionist when a familiar voice called her name.

"Ah Buffy. Good to see you."

She turned to see her former Watcher emerge from an elevator. Buffy nearly did a double take. Although both Willow and Faith had mentioned that Wesley was looking really good, and not the clumsy young man she remembered, she wasn't prepared for a Wesley Wyndam-Pryce who was sexy.

"Um, hi. You look . . . great."

Wesley blushed and looked down at his feet. Buffy thought it was kind of cute, and showed some of the old, unsure of himself Wesley she remembered.

"Thank you. You look good as well. Rome has been agreeing with you I take it."

He led her towards the elevator, and Buffy couldn't help but look over her shoulder and smirk at the receptionist who was already busy giving someone else a hard time.

"Your arrival is actually quite fortuitous," Wesley continued.

"Well that's not good." He looked at her puzzled. "I'm guessing I'm not fortuitous because you needed and excuse to have a party. I'm thinking you need a Slayer, and that's generally not of the good."

He chuckled. "Yes, quite right," he agreed. "I'm afraid we do in fact have need of a Slayer. Angel should be back shortly. Having not seen the girl myself it would perhaps be better for him to explain. In the mean time, may I enquire as to what brings you back to L.A.?"

Buffy took a deep breath. She didn't really know how to explain why she was here. She was actually grateful to be able to test out her reasons on Wesley before she saw Angel. Something told her that Angel wasn't going to be too pleased about her reasons for coming.

"It's about what happened in Sunnydale. About that amulet that Angel brought. I need to know more about it."

"I wish there was more we can tell you." The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. "I have it in my office, but I'm not sure what good that will do. I've searched through every text we have, and I assure you our library here is quite extensive. But perhaps if you could be more specific, I could be of more help."

"Well, you see. I'm not entirely sure. I've been having these dreams, Slayer dreams you know?" Wesley nodded. "So anyway-"

"Ah here we are," Wesley interrupted as he opened a door for her.

He led her into a very nice conference room. There were three other people, or rather two people and a demon already there. The demon had green skin, red horns, and the most outrageous purple suit that Buffy had ever seen. The two humans were more normally dressed. The tall black man, who had lawyer written all over him, was very well dressed in an expensive suit. The thin brunette wasn't as officially dressed, but still she didn't look as out of place in an office as the demon did, and not because of his skin or horns.

"This is Buffy, the vampire slayer," Wesley introduced her. "This is Fred, Gunn, and Lorne."

She smiled nervously at the others. She'd been hoping for a chance to talk to Wesley, and although their names sounded vaguely familiar, she really didn't think she wanted to talk in front of them.

"Heard a lot about you. Nice to finally put a face to reputation," Gunn said as he reached forward to shake her hand.

She smiled politely and shook his hand, trying to remember what she may have heard about him.

"Hi," Fred said shyly, moving forward to shake her hand as well. After a momentary pause and a smile, words began to rush out of the other woman's mouth. "Your shorter than I'd thought you'd be, but then maybe that's cause Angel's so tall, so you know, I figured you being his big love and all would be, I don't know, maybe two inches shorter than him? Of course as I understand it, you're Spike's big love too, and he's really not all that tall for a Champion. And usually guys don't like women taller than them, so I should've figure on that. Although Spike's really sweet, and with the dying for you and all, I guess it wouldn't just be some shal-"

"Fred," Wesley politely interrupted her.

"Oops!" Fred said embarrassed. "I was rambling, wasn't I?"

"Um, yeah. That's okay," Buffy told her.

There was something very sweet and endearing about Fred. Also kind of disturbing the way she was talking about Buffy's love life like it was part of the public record, not to mention talking about Spike as if he were still around and she knew him. Which didn't make sense. If Angel had mentioned Spike at all to his friends, and more specifically Buffy and Spike, she couldn't imagine him saying anything about Spike being in love with her. Unhealthy obsession maybe, but not love.

"Um, how do you know about Spike?" Buffy asked.

"Well 'cause he's here of course," Fred answered, before he rambling began again. "I mean not here in this room obviously, 'cause you can't see him. Although a couple of months ago he could have been and you wouldn't have noticed. But that's all fixed now." Seeing the stunned and confused look on Buffy's face Fred asked, "You mean he didn't call you and tell you he was back?"

"Uh, no. How long–"

"Oh, he was re-coporealized about a month ago," Fred broke in. "Of course he'd been a spectral entity of indeterminate nature for a lot longer than that."

"A whatsit?"

"A ghost," Gunn supplied helpfully.

"Well not a ghost–" Fred tried to correct Gunn.

"In layman's terms a ghost," Wesley compromised. "I assumed you knew all this. After all you were asking about the amulet."

"Huh?" was all Buffy could say at this point. She felt like time had sped up for everyone around her, as if the world was moving five times faster than her brain. She was tempted to check for evil lint.

"We're not sure how, but Spike's essence was bound to the amulet," Fred explained. "He really didn't tell you? I mean he was so gung-ho about going to see you when he got his body back. I mean we all knew he didn't leave, but I guess I assumed that was 'cause he called you and you didn't want him to come or something."

"Oh," Buffy said. "So um-"

Before she could complete the non-thought that was forming in her brain, the double doors to conference room sprung open dramatically as two arguing vampires entered the room.

"I would have had her if . . . you'd . . . only . . ." Spike's voice which had started out loud and boisterous, trailed off into nothing as he saw Buffy.

"Buffy, um, hi," Angel said shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. "I didn't know you were coming to town. What brings you to L.A." He shifted over a little, in front of Spike, almost as if he thought he could hide the other vampire, and pretend like she hadn't seen him.

"Spike?" she asked. Even though the conversation she'd just been having was starting to make sense, now that she'd actually seen Spike, she still felt like she was missing vital information. That one piece that would make her world make sense again.

"Hey," was all he said. Since seeing her he'd been very studiously examining the toe of his left boot.

Buffy was mad, mad that that was all he had to say to her. Mad that no one had told her he was back. She wanted to scream and yell at him. But then he looked up at her with a kicked puppy dog look. Or rather the look of a puppy dog who was so used to being kicked, that as much as it hoped it's master would pet it and say, "Good doggie," it knew the kick was coming.

That was the final piece that made everything make sense, and made Buffy only angrier. All the last year had meant nothing to Spike, and left no impression. She'd cared for him and done the best she knew how to help him, but none of it registered for him. She had learned to accept and welcome the changes in him, but he hadn't noticed the changes in her. He still saw her as the broken Buffy who liked to use him as a punching bag when she wasn't using him for sex. For the first time she understood why his last words to her had been a denial of her feelings towards him.

But Buffy shoved down the anger, forcing it back. If she was mad at him now, he'd just take it as further proof that she hadn't changed. Instead she ran over to him and hugged him tightly telling him, "I missed you."

Cautiously he put his arms around her, and slowly he relaxed into her hug. The comfort of his arms and the familiar feel of his body dissipated some of her anger as did his words when he mumbled, "I missed you too."

Chapter 6: Explanations

"I missed you too," Spike mumbled. It was the easy thing to say, not only was it true, but it was the obvious response. Spike needed obvious because he had no idea what to do now that Buffy knew he was alive.

His body on the other hand knew exactly what to do, and his arms wrapped themselves around her and held her tightly, responding to her hug. He was just glad she pulled away before his body began to respond to her in other ways.

She was overwhelming him. The scent of her shampoo, the sound of heartbeat, the brush of her hair against his hand, and the way she smiled at him, even if her eyes seemed angry, all served to disconnect his brain from coherent thought. She looked good, happy. More tan than she had been in Sunnydale, and she looked comparatively worry free.

So he didn't really notice when the conversation around him picked up again and the others began discussing the crazy slayer. At least until Buffy spoke.

"Are you sure she's a slayer?" she asked.

"Defiantly," Angel told her. "We thought it was possession at first, because she seemed to be speaking in tongues, and was inhumanly strong," Buffy flinched slightly at that, but Angel didn't seem to notice. Which was pretty typical Spike thought. "But there were drawings in her room, all of girls fighting demons. Also there were video tapes the doctor made of her. She was speaking in several different languages, talking about slaying. Not to mention she was comatose until a few months ago."

"The same time as Sunnydale's last apocalypse," Buffy concluded.

"Okay, I'm confused," Gunn broke in. "I thought there was only one Slayer, well, other than Faith. Faith's okay right?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Buffy reassured him. "She's in China. Look, several months ago we were up against the very first evil, the source of all evil, which intended to wipe out the Slayer line forever, and take over the world with an army of ubbervamps."

"There's ubbervamps now?" Gunn asked.

"Not anymore," Spike pipped up. After all seeing as how he was the one who'd vaporized them, he felt he deserved in on the conversation.

"Right," Buffy confirmed. "But before we knew that Spike was going to zap them all into dust with that mystic amulet," she smiled at him, and Spike couldn't help but feel sort of warm and fuzzy that she'd been the one to point out that he'd saved the world. "We thought we were going to have to fight them the old fashioned way. So Willow, you all met Willow right?" They nodded. "Anyway, she cast this spell that turned all the potential slayers in the world into actual slayers."

"An army of slayers," Wesley said, a little awestruck. "Brilliant, although I'd hardly call it old fashioned."

"I meant with the stakes, and the punching, and the kicking," Buffy explained.

Gunn threw a file folder on the table. "Too bad one of these potentials, Dana, isn't all there. Turns out some son-of-a-bitch murdered her parents when she was a kid, then he tortured her for weeks. She escaped somehow, but she's been in a mental institution ever since."

Spike began to reach for the folder. He figured there might be something in there to give him a hint as to where to find her, since after Angel had gotten in his way the scent had most likely gone cold. Suddenly something Angel had said hit him.

"You said she was talking on those video tapes?" Spike asked.


"Yeah, she was talking about killing vampires, almost hysterically. All of the tapes were like that. Why? Isn't that how you figured out she was a slayer."

"No," Spike said without thinking. "She was silent when I fought her. Not a word. A growl or two, but other than that, it was like she was mute, and I threw some pretty good quips at her."

Angel rolled his eyes. "She probably couldn't get a word in with you yapping at her constantly."

Before Spike could get in a retort Fred interrupted them, "So if she wasn't talking, how'd you know she was a slayer?"

"Well. . ." Spike lied. "I know slayers. Lived with a whole pasel of them just before the Hellmouth ate itself up."

They all seemed to more or less buy the white lie, except for Buffy, who looked at him funny. But he wasn't going to tell them about his dreams, at least not until he had a better idea as to what they might mean. Besides Angel would just accuse him of making it up, and Fred, bless her heart, would want to run every test in the lab on him.

"Yeah," Angel said, sarcastically. "You know them so well you decided that fighting her was the smart thing to do."

"I was winning," Spike insisted with frustration. "At least until you and your Hot Wheels got in the way."

"Why do you not get that vampires shouldn't fight vampire slayers?" Angel shook his head. "Look, you're not helping Spike. We'll get a tactical team out there and-"

"Wow, hold on." Buffy broke in. "Why does a law-firm have a tactical team? And isn't that a little over kill?"

She and Angel started arguing about whether or not they should call in tactical. Everyone was wrapped up in the argument and as much as Spike liked watching Buffy take Angel down a peg, he realized this was his best chance to get out of there, back on the streets, find this Dana before she did any more harm, and maybe figure out why he had dreamt about her.

Chapter 7: Fights

Buffy was majorly creeped out listening to Angel talk about tactical strikes, and helicopters, and stuff like that. It was like someone had smooshed Angel and Riley. In fact, suddenly Buffy was noticing how physically alike Angel and Riley were.

She was just starting to think maybe the reason things had gone so badly between her and her "normal" boyfriend was because she'd been using him as an Angel replacement, when she remembered that it was Riley that had pursued her. She hadn't even been aware of him as more than a TA until he'd asked her out.

Besides, Parker, who'd clearly been her rebound guy from Angel hadn't been anything like Angel, physically or personality wise. And Spike. . . was gone she suddenly realized.

"Look fine, just do whatever, Angel," she said, hurrying out of the conference room, leaving a stunned vampire behind her.

Once her mind had managed to process the fact that Spike was back, she'd realized that her dream must have been telling her something else. Considering that her dream had included the First Slayer staking Spike, she figured Angel was right and that Spike shouldn't be fighting this crazy slayer.

Unfortunately she hadn't gotten the chance to warn him yet, although knowing Spike if she told him that she'd had a dream that prophesied his death at the hands of a slayer, he'd probably be even more determined to find her.

As soon as she was in the elevator, and sure that Angel couldn't hear her, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Giles' number.

After several rings, a groggy voice answered her, "Hello?"

"Hey, Giles, it's Buffy."

"Is there a reason you're calling so early in the morning?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry. Time zones. Forgot. I'm in L.A."

"What are you-"

"Long story, not important right now either. Look, I need you to get every Slayer, Watcher, or whatever we have near L.A. here as soon as possible."

"Why what's going on?" Giles asked, suddenly sounding both alert and concerned.

"There's a slayer out here, only she just escaped from a mental institution-"

"And you need help recapturing her," Giles finished for her.

"Maybe, but that's not what I'm really worried about. I'm worried I won't get to her first. Giles, I found out about this from Angel, and he's . . . He's gone all corporate commando. I can tell he thinks he's doing the right thing, but that's what scares me. This place has sort of an Initiative vibe, only with better suits."

"Yes, I see. I was afraid of this sort of thing. I'll get those Slayers to you as soon as possible. It may be advisable for you to wait till they arrive to try and recapture this girl."

"Yeah, sounds good. Look can you call me back once you've gotten in touch with the others slayers?"

"Yes, of course Buffy. But I must stress-"

"Be careful, yeah, I got it. I have to go now, Giles. Bye." She clicked her phone shut as the elevator door slid open again.

Buffy hurried outside, trying to figure out how long ago Spike had left, and trying to guess which way he might have gone. She scrunched up her forehead and tried to do that honing thing Giles had been trying to teach her since they first met, but she'd never been very good at it. Plus, all the vampires that worked at Wolfram & Hart made it impossible to figure out which vague tingle was Spike.

"Hmmm," she said to herself. "If I were an annoying vampire searching for a slayer I'd go . . . that way." She pointed in a random direction.

Or rather she hoped it wasn't a random direction. She hoped that it was really the direction her finely tuned Slayer intuition was leading her. After all she had nothing else to go on. She decided running was the best course of action. If she was heading in the right direction, she'd catch up to Spike sooner, and in any case, it would mean it would take Angel longer to find her, assuming he tried.

Just when she was about to give up, she noticed a hint of platinum down a side street. She stopped to look closer. From this distance it looked like a floating spot, but she was willing to bet it was Spike, his black duster vanishing into the night.

She took off down the street toward the retreating dot. After a block the dot turned around and stopped moving away from her. Another couple blocks and it had clearly resolved into Spike. She could tell from his posture that he was annoyed at having been followed.

"Angel send you?" he asked as she got near him.

"What?" Why would he think that? she wondered. "No! I realized that you were gone, so I followed."

"Well, you found me, so you can run along now," Spike told her as he turned his back and started to walk away.

"Hey!" she yelled at him. He stopped and turned around. "What is this? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"It's very good to see you, Buffy," was his insincere reply. "Is that what you want?"

She tried not to look as hurt as she felt. Why is he acting like this? she asked herself.

"I want my friend back," she said without thinking. The moment the words left her mouth she knew it was a mistake. She could hear his voice in her head, as he berated her for only thinking of him as a friend.

But Spike didn't yell at her. Instead he looked kind of shocked. "Oh. Well. Sorry. Haven't been sleeping been well."

He turned away from her and started walking in the direction he'd been headed in before she'd found him.

She caught up to him, falling into stride next to him.

"So, um, what have you been up to since, you know, coming back from the dead?" she asked.

She felt stupid. There had been day dreams, vain hopes in which Spike had been alive and she had found him. They had all gone much better than this was going. In her day dreams she always knew the right thing to say, and Spike didn't act like a jerk.

"Dunno. Not much. Saving Angel, saving damsels, that sort of thing," he said without so much as glancing at her.

"Yeah, what's with that anyway? You and Angel I mean. When did you to start working together?"

He stopped and spun around to face her, his blue eyes speckled with gold. "We are NOT working together." He turned back around and continued walking. "He just shows up and gets in my way."

"So why stay in L.A?"

"Look," he stopped again. "Enough with the twenty questions already. I'll help you get back your slayer, and then you can scoot back along to whatever corner of the continent you now fancy."

"You think . . ? I'm not here for the slayer. I came here to find you."

"Yeah?" he asked. And just like that Spike's Big Bad facade cracked and crumbled. He looked almost like a little boy, face full of hope. "Why . . ? I mean, how'd you know? That I was back."

"I didn't. I thought . . . I wasn't sure. I had a dream, a slayer dream where I had to find you or something really bad was going to happen. And then I did, but the First Slayer was there, and she tried to kill you. I don't think you should be looking for this girl, it could be dangerous."

This time she really had said the wrong thing. The hopeful little boy vanished, and Spike was back in full swagger.

"Danger, huh? I'll remind you, I've fought three. . . no make that four slayers and not a one ever managed to kill me. So I think I know what I'm doing."

"Four? Wait you mean Faith? Faith doesn't count. You can't count Faith. I had to pull her off of you, remember?"

"I didn't mean that. I meant later, you know when Andrew and I got back from the monastery and your mates had thrown-" He stopped in the middle of his sentence.

Buffy couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was thinking, remembering. But it still meant something. She could tell that. That night, that had been one of the worst and one of the best nights of her life all at once. When her friends, her sister, and her Watcher had all turned their backs on her, and only Spike had been there. The night they'd been close.

It still meant something to him, and that gave Buffy hope. Hope that sooner or latter they could have a real conversation that didn't fall apart into nasty arguing.

They just stood there, the silence and the stillness hanging between them. But it was okay. It was just a moment they needed, to try and bridge the gap between who they'd been, and who they were.

And then Spike was gone.

It took Buffy a moment to process what had happened. To realize that Spike had been knocked to the ground, or that the cracking sound was his head hitting the pavement. But long before her brain had caught up, her body was moving. She grabbed the wrist of the girl who'd tackled Spike and thrown him to the ground. Buffy twisted the girl's wrist, but she refused to drop the stake she obviously meant to use on Spike.

"Hi, I'm Buffy," she said brightly as she punched the other girl in the face. "You must be Dana, the new girl."

She kicked the girl in the stomach, while still gripping the hand that held the stake.

"Here's the thing," Buffy continued as she took another swing at the girl's head. But this time Dana ducked under the blow and charged Buffy, thrusting her head into Buffy's stomach and knocking her backwards.

As they rolled, Buffy released the other girl's wrist, so that she could scramble back to her feet. She could see Spike shaking his head, as he tried to get up. Seeing that he was relatively alright, she focused all her attention on Dana.

The two slayers squared off. Dana was completely silent, but Buffy continued her monologue, "I know you think Spike's a vampire."

Dana feigned a right punch, and Buffy, expecting an inexperienced fighter, fell for it, and right into the girls left hook. She shook her head, and grabbed Dana's right arm with hers as another punch came at her. Buffy spun away from the punch and into Dana's body so that her back was to the other girl. She let the momentum of Dana's punch add to the force as she slammed her elbow into the girl's stomach.

"And you'd be right. But here's the thing."

Buffy shifted her grip on Dana's arm and then threw the girl to the ground. But Dana rolled nimbly to her feet. The other slayer growled at Buffy, and as her long stringy hair fell in front of her face, she reminded Buffy of someone else.

"He has a soul."

Buffy moved forward, pressing the attack, but Dana managed to avoid or block most of her blows, while getting in a few of her own. They traded a series of punches and kicks. The more they fought the more a feeling of deja vu crept over Buffy. Even though she'd never seen or heard of Dana before this evening, this was an opponent she'd fought before. Besides, slayer or not, no girl who'd spent most of her life in an institution without any training could fight this well.

"Besides, no one kills Spike but me," Buffy concluded.

"Jealous, pet?" Spike asked, and just like that he was there, in the middle of the fight.

She had to mental backtrack to figure out what she'd said that made her sound jealous. She was pretty much quipping on auto-pilot as her mind was divided between the fight, and deciding if this girl really was who Buffy thought she was. Luckily with Spike up and around, the fight was no longer the draw it had been.

Oh crap! Buffy thought as she realized just what it was she had said. But Spike didn't seem upset by it. No, he just had that big grin he got when he was really enjoying a fight.

Then Spike managed to grab the other slayer's arm immobilizing her enough that Buffy could get in a strong enough punch to knock her unconscious. Dana, or whoever she really was slumped into Spike's arms.

"Look, Spike. About what-" Buffy was interrupted as several black vans came to screeching halt at the corner of the street. Angel and several S.W.A.T. team looking guys got out of the vans.

"Crap," Buffy said. Her hands scrambled to pull out her cell phone and she thrust it into Spike's hands. "You have to take her," she told him. He only looked at her confused. "Look, I don't have time to explain, but Angel and his law-firm CAN'T get their hands on her. Chain her up and keep her safe. I'll stop Angel." He still looked doubtful. She looked down the street to where Angel and his tactical team were getting closer. "Look, please Spike I need you," she pleaded. "I'll call you, on my phone, once I've gotten rid of Angel and you can tell me where she is. Just, please, make sure Angel doesn't get her."

Spike nodded then, and put the phone in a pocket of his duster. "Right, I'll wait for you call." He threw the unconscious slayer over his shoulder and took off away from Angel.

Angel, of course saw that, and he and his team began to move in on them faster. Buffy ran to meet Angel, half way.

"Hey, Angel. No need for all these guys. We've got everything under control."

He stopped in front of her. "Look Buffy, you may have stunned her, but she could wake up at any moment."

"You're right, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry for-Ooof!" Angel cried as she sucker punched him.

Buffy heard several clicking noises all around her, and one of the S.W.A.T. guys yelled at her, "Put your hands up!"

Buffy did as she was told, trying not to smile. Just as she had hoped, they had decided she was a threat, and were more concerned with her, than Spike, who was getting farther by the minute. And, since as far as she could tell, Angel was the only one of them who was a vampire, they wouldn't be able to catch Spike on foot.

"Don't worry about her," Angel said as he clutched his stomach and got back up. "Go after Spike."

They lowered their guns, and started after Spike.

"Yeah, no worries." Buffy chirped in a too cheerful voice. "It's not like Angel broke up with me right before the prom. Oh wait, you did."

"Miss, I'll need you to put your hand behind your head and kneel on the ground."

Buffy smiled as the tactical team, which had started to move after Spike, once again surrounded her.

"She's bluffing. Go after Spike." Angle ordered again.

But it was obvious that his men thought they might need to protect Angel from his ex, which would give Spike more than enough time to get away.

Buffy just hoped that it was enough that she had saved him from being staked earlier. She didn't know what she'd do if she found out she'd killed Spike again by sending him off alone with the First Slayer.

Chapter 8: Waiting

Spike was elated and annoyed all at once. But mostly he was elated. Buffy had asked him to keep the new slayer away from Angel. She trusted him and not Angel. Of course last time she'd given something to him and not Angel, he'd ended up burnt to a crisp, but that was only a minor detail.

What annoyed him was what she'd said about them being friends, or rather his reaction to it. The way he'd lapped up her scraps of affection, and all but begged for more.

Although he'd known they had been friends back in Sunnydale, she had never actually said it. In those days, when his soul still felt jagged and new, it had been wonderful. To be allowed back in her life, after he'd so nearly hurt her so badly. It was more than he'd dared hope for. But now things were different.

Spike was no longer the broken man whom Buffy had put back together piece by piece the year before. Although Spike still wasn't sure of his place in the world, now at least he thought he had one. The Powers That Be certainly seemed to think there was some purpose to his un-life.

So he didn't want to be friends with Buffy, he wanted to be more to her than that. It wasn't that he thought he deserved her, he knew he didn't. He knew that any hope or right to expect more from her had been shattered by his stupidity and blindness when he'd nearly raped her.

Instead he wanted to move on from Buffy. To find someone who could love him back. Just because he wasn't worthy of Buffy, didn't mean that somewhere there wasn't someone else whom he could love and who would love him.

And yet when Buffy had acknowledged him as a friend, his heart had soared. He would have done anything for her then. He knew the longer she was around, the harder it would be for him to break away from her. And yet she needed him, so he had to help her. Besides, it looked like helping her meant getting in Angel's way and that was enough of a reward in its own right.

Of course there was one other problem. As flattered as he was at Buffy's faith in his ability to handle a slayer, he wasn't really set up right now to restrain someone with her strength. It suddenly seemed a big oversight on behalf of Doyle and the Powers That Be that they hadn't set up some chains in the flat they'd provided him with. Although maybe that was for the best since it would be the first place Angel would look.

He ran through his options. He couldn't go to Wolfram & Hart, even though most of the friends and allies he had in L.A. currently worked there. Doyle always contacted him, not the other way around, and there was no way of knowing if he had any chains or not, though Spike was willing to bet he did. After that Spike's list of resources was pretty thin. His old friends in L.A.'s demon community were more likely to double cross him than help him now that he was one of the good guys–in fact they probably would double cross him even if he were still evil–and he'd yet to establish many contacts among the more benign demons.

As he ticked through the list of who he knew in L.A, he realized he'd been going about this the wrong way. He didn't have many allies, but he did know people he could pay to help him. He'd just have to hope that Marvin would consider him good for the kittens. Since his ensoulment, Spike had stuck to currency of the non-fury kind. Not that he had much in the way of dollars either.

His mind made up, he hurried off towards West Hollywood, hoping he could make it to Marvin's before the slayer he was carrying woke up.

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

Dana was very quiet. Sometimes if you were very quiet the man would forget about you, and he would leave you alone. Sometimes no matter how quiet you were he got mad and gave you shots and hurt you anyway. But there was a chance if you were quiet.

Besides, no one ever heard you if you screamed. No one ever came.

That seemed even more true here in the cave where Big Sister had led her, and where the three strange men had chained her. No one had come, not Big Sister, not the strange men, not even the bad man. And Dana was alone for a very long time.

Sometimes she thought about screaming, about making noise, so that somebody would find her. But she was too scared about whom that somebody might be. And so Dana was very quiet.

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

It wasn't often that Spike found himself wishing he was still evil. After all, evil hadn't worked out for him very well that last several years. But at times like this, evil started to look really good.

He'd been stuck in a room for over an hour waiting for Buffy to call. His only company was the deranged slayer who refused to talk despite his best efforts. The most she would do is growl and glare at him as if she could stake him with her eyes.

There was no TV, no radio, not even any books to keep him occupied. Just the bed the slayer was chained to, and all the sex toys and torture implements your typical demon could want. Except he wasn't your typical demon any more, so all he could do was wait for Buffy's call.

Just when he was beginning to wonder if Buffy actually knew her own phone number, a rather annoying, cheerful, and electronic tune began to play from his pocket. He hurried to pull out the phone and answer it. Although there were many things he loved about Buffy, her taste in music wasn't one of them.

"It's about time," Spike barked into the phone.

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number," a familiar British voice answered.

"Rupert?" Spike asked.

"Spike!" came Giles startled reply. "What on earth are you doing answering Buffy's phone! And didn't you die?"

"Yeah, well over a hundred years ago. Sounds like you're slipping in your old age, Watcher."

"You most certainly know that is not what I meant. Questions of your resurrection aside, where is Buffy?"

"Don't know, waiting to hear from her, so if you don't mind getting off the phone."

Spike was about to click the phone closed, when he heard Giles yell from the other end, "Spike! Wait!"

Spike sighed and put the phone back to his ear, pacing back and forth as he listened to the other man. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Look, it's vitally important that-" Just then he passed in front of Dana who snapped at him, rattling her chains. "Were those chains?! You have Buffy locked up don't you?" Giles accused.

"What? No, why would I-" Spike didn't finish the sentence as his eyes passed over some of the sex toys and several very good reasons to chain up Buffy came to mind. "Look, it's not her. It's this other slayer who's not all there. Just got her restrained for her own good."

"You have her? Good. Where are you?" Giles asked.

"Why?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"Spike, I don't have time for that. This slayer is the whole reason I was calling Buffy. I have several other slayers ready to take her into custody. Just tell me where you are, and I'll have her safe and off your hands."

Spike snorted. "You've got to be kidding. You really think I'm going to tell you where I am so you can send a company of slayers here?"

"Well, yes. Didn't Buffy tell yo-"

"Buffy didn't mention it. And honestly, Ripper, after that business with the principal you really think I trust you? How stupid do you think I am? And that was rhetorical," he added before the other man could give his opinion on the subject. "Look, I'll let Buffy know you called. Bye."

Spike hung up the phone over Giles continued protests. He was probably being paranoid. After all Giles hadn't known he was alive. On the other hand, there was no point in taking unnecessary chances, especially when he didn't know all the facts. Buffy had told him to keep the girl safe and away from Angel, and until she told him otherwise that was what he was going to do.

He sat down in the room's one chair and went back to counting the spots on the ceiling as he waited for Buffy to call.

Chapter 9: Crowded

"Are you sure this is the right address?" the cab driver asked Buffy.

"Um, yeah." Buffy said as she paid the cab driver.

For a moment she wondered if she should ask him to wait. Finding a cab in L.A. wasn't always easy. And it was always possible she had gotten the wrong address from Spike.

However, the more she looked at the dingy building, the more she decided this must be the right place. It was an old motel. The windows had been blacked out and there was no sign. Which meant it was probably a demon hang out of some kind.

Which also explained why Spike had been so reluctant to have her come to him. He'd kept trying to convince her that he should come to her. She'd had to very patiently, and then not so patiently, explain to him that she didn't have anywhere to keep a slayer chained up, not to mention that the more they moved her the more likely she was to escape.

Finally Spike had given in and given her the address, then he'd told her he was in room #6 and not to let Marvin give her any trouble. So this was almost surely the place.

Despite its closed appearance, the front door wasn't locked so she walked right in. She felt like she'd wasted enough time already. Talking to Spike on the phone had reassured her that he was okay, but she still worried about leaving him alone with the other slayer.

She'd nearly panicked by the time she'd been able to call Spike. It had taken her a lot longer than she thought to get away from Angel and his commandos. Not to mention she'd felt the need to make sure no one was following her. So after catching at least one set of tails and giving them a warning beating, she'd crisscrossed her path, and done everything she could think of to make it hard for Angel to find her.

All of that had left her far away from Spike. It had taken her a while to find a cab, and then there had been traffic. So there had been plenty of time for something to go horribly wrong and something awful to happen to Spike.

As she entered the abandoned looking motel, she decided that if something hadn't happened to Spike, she might just have to kill him for bringing her here. A vampire and two demons were lounging around the lobby in what could only be described as the fall hooker wear collection. In the corner was a raggedy pile of clothes she didn't want to look too carefully at.

Instead she decided she'd find room #6 as quickly as possible.

She hurried towards the hallway when the pile of clothes moved and yelled at her in an echoey voice, "Hey, lady. Where do you think you're going?"

Buffy turned around and had a feeling of vertigo as a round black head on a thin sticklike neck rushed towards her. The head, which looked like a perfect black sphere with two stuffed animal eyes glued to the front, regarded her aggressively. Buffy looked past the head to see that the neck had emerged from what she thought was a pile of clothes, but she now realized was a demon.

"Um, hi. You must be Marvin," Buffy guessed.

The demon shook his head and made a whistling sound. "Room #6," he snapped at her, and his head zoomed back to his body, as Buffy heard him mumble something about "No accounting for taste."

Buffy hurried out of the lobby, momentarily wondering how Marvin had known she was here to see Spike. Then she realized the demon's name probably wasn't Marvin. In Spike's mind the demon's head probably looked a lot like Marvin the Martian, and Spike seemed to be allergic to using people's real names, so it was probably one of his nicknames.

She quickly found room #6. She decided against knocking, figuring that if something had gone wrong, she'd want the element of surprise, and if nothing had gone wrong, barging in would make her yelling at Spike that much more effective.

Buffy threw open the door and stopped dead in her tracks. The room was decorated with lush red velvet curtains that had been drawn aside to reveal torture tools and sex toys hanging from the wall. The room was dominated by the large four-poster bed, where Dana, the other slayer, was chained down.

It took Buffy a moment to locate Spike, who was buried in a large arm chair and seemed to be sleeping. That just made Buffy even angrier. Here she was worried over his safety and he was napping!

She looked around the room for something to throw at him, which she told herself was a perfectly okay way to wake him up since he was such a heavy sleeper.

She finally settled on a rubber ball with two leather straps attached to it. She gingerly removed it from the wall. She took aim and hit Spike squarely on the forehead.

His eyes snapped open as he vamped and tried to leap, snarling out of the chair. Unfortunately the chair was too deep to make that easy to do, and his arms and legs windmilled as he tried to pull himself up.

Buffy couldn't help but laugh at his antics. She tried to remember to be angry, but it wasn't working.

By this time Spike had figured out he wasn't under attack and had calmed down enough to stand up without falling back into the chair. He shook his head to get rid of his game face, and glared at Buffy.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"I think it was a gag. I really, really, hope it was a gag." Buffy said still snickering into her hand.

He rolled his eyes, "You know, I go to all this effort to do a favor for you, and what do I get? Hit in the face with a gag. Suppose I should be glad it didn't hit my nose."

He rubbed his forehead, which only sent Buffy into a fresh set of giggles.

"Are you quite done?" Spike asked impatiently.

"Hey you're the one who fell asleep in a . . . a . . . bordello."

Spike snorted at her. "First off, this is just a hotel, with amenities that rents by the hour. Secondly, where the hell was I supposed to chain up a slayer?!"

"What? You're telling me you don't have chains in your new crypt? Admit it, this is one of your weird come ons."

Spike threw his hands up into the air. Then he pointed at her accusingly. "You are a real piece of work, Summers. You know that? First of all, I don't have a crypt. I have a flat. In a nice part of town where they frown on hauling unconscious girls back and forth. Secondly, only you could be so self centered as to think that this was all some elaborate plan to get in your pants. What even makes you think I want you?"

Buffy froze with terror. In the brief time since she'd found out Spike was still alive, she'd been making excuses for him. Telling herself that he was just defensive, that he was scared of being rejected by her yet again. But in the back of her mind had been another voice telling her that she was just hiding from the truth; Spike was no longer in love with her.

She didn't know what to say to him not that he'd voiced her greatest fear. There were only two things she could do, curl up into a little ball and cry, or tackle him and kiss him.

She chose the latter.

Before he could move out of her way, she pushed him back into the armchair he'd just escaped from, straddled him and kissed him as passionately as she knew how.

Spike was both literally and figuratively thrown off balance. But it only took him a moment to recover. Then he was kissing her back. His hands grabbed the small of her back and pulled her down onto his growing erection. They clutched each other wildly as their tongues battled.

Finally Buffy was forced to break off the kiss as she gasped for air. After pulling several breaths into her lungs, Buffy looked deep into Spike cerulean eyes. She placed her hand onto his cheep, and ran her thumb over his lips.

"Tell me again you don't want me," she gasped.

He didn't say anything. Instead, Buffy had a sudden feeling of lightheadedness, as Spike pushed them both out of the chair and onto the floor. His hand cradled her head, so that it didn't hit the floor, but the rest of her slammed hard onto it, as he began kissing her again.

As Buffy pulled the hem of his shirt free from his jeans, his fingers tugged at the buttons to her shirt. He let go for a moment as she tried to pull the shirt over his head.

She had just pulled the bottom of the t-shirt over his head when she heard a growl and the sound of chains rattling.

At the same time she and Spike rolled away from each other, as he yanked his shirt back down and they both got to their feet.

"We should, um . . . we need to get out of here," Buffy said as she took in the damage Spike had done to her shirt. Two buttons were gone, and a third was just hanging on by a thread. "I mean, because Angel is sure to find her here." She quickly added.

She moved towards the bed to get a closer look at the other slayer.

"It's not going to be easy. I mean I guess we could just knock her out again. I just kind of feel bad about hitting someone who's chained up. But with just the two of us. . ." Buffy's voice trailed off as she tried to figure out just where they were going to move Dana to.

"Oh!" Spike said suddenly. "Um, not just the two of us. At least, Giles called a while back. Said something about having a bunch of slayers waiting for you." He dug her phone out of his pocket and tossed it to her.

"And you just tell me this now?" Buffy mumbled as she flipped open the phone and tried to figure out what she was going to say to Giles.

Chapter 10: Discomfort

As Buffy began making arrangements with Giles, Spike angrily moved off into the corner of the room furthest from either of the two slayers.

Spike tried to tell himself that he would have had the same physical reaction if any other woman had jumped him in that manner. True or not, it didn't make him feel any better. All he could think was that he was still nothing more than love's bitch.

And it didn't solve the problem of his erection. Could have been any girl, Spike repeated in his head. The only problem was that it wasn't any girl, it was Buffy.

He considered going into the bathroom to jerk off, but he doubted it would do much good. He was too angry, and what sort of fantasy could he indulge himself in? His mind was too clouded by questions of what sort of real relationship they could have to be able to conjure up any fantasies about her.

Not to mention that as of late all his fantasies had been about what their reunion would be like. Not that the reunion had been all that bad, but it hadn't been the sort of thing Spike had dreamed about. Just Buffy being startled by his walking through the door, and then hugging him.

It wasn't the fireworks he'd been hoping for, but then again, if he'd really believed there was the slightest chance that she would declare her undying love for him and then shag him senseless, he would have left L.A. the moment he got his body back.

But didn't she say she'd come to L.A. looking for him? Something about dreams and. . . Spike tried to remember exactly what she'd said about her dream.

"Okay, have him call us when he gets here," Buffy said before she clicked shut her cell phone.

"So um . . ." Buffy plucked the sleeve of her blouse.

For a moment Spike considered letting her off the hook. Avoiding the whole subject of what just happened. It was probably the right thing to do and Spike was curious to know more about her dream. But he was still pissed off. Just because he would still do anything for her, whether she showed him the slightest scrap of affection or not, didn't mean she had to treat him like he was at her beck and call.

The more he thought about it, and the more Buffy just stood there awkwardly, the angrier he got.

"Must be getting pretty desperate if you're after me to shag you again," Spike snapped at her.

Buffy looked up at him then, and he could see her hazel eyes begin to cloud with tears. Spike mentally kicked himself. Just because he wanted to hurt her, didn't mean he wanted her to be in pain.

Before he could apologize for being an ass, she beat him to it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What-?" he started to ask but she cut him off.

"I'm sorry I killed you," Buffy repeated as a tear rolled down one cheek. "I didn't mean to."

Spike immediately closed the distance between them and brushed the tear from Buffy's cheek.

"You didn't kill me," he told her sternly. "I knew what I was getting myself into. It was my decision, remember? I asked for that bloody amulet."

"But I-" she protested.

"No buts. You were not responsible."

Spike was still trying to process what it meant, that she thought she had killed him. It doesn't mean anything, he tried to tell himself. Just means Buffy still thinks she the center of everything. Silly bird can't imagine I'd make a decision that doesn't center on her.

Even so he couldn't help warming to her a little. His poor little slayer still carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Sadly, he doubted he could say anything to make her believe otherwise.

"ButItoldGilesIwould," she blurted out all at once.

Spike froze. Then he pulled away from her. He couldn't bear to look at her.

He'd never really told her how much it meant to him that she had sided with him against Rupert during Sunnydale's final days. Spike knew how much Giles' opinion meant to Buffy, and he'd hated the Watcher for going behind her back to try and kill him. Not because of the assassination attempt, after all Spike had tried to kill the Scoobies several times, but because it hurt Buffy. Because Giles had forced her to choose. Of course Spike had been delighted that she had finally chosen him over her friends, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware that it only served to isolate Buffy more. To shut her off just a little more from the people who depended on her, and on whom she depended.

To suddenly be told that she had conspired with the Watcher to sacrifice him was the stake through the heart he'd been waiting for. A little voice in the back of his head was saying, I told you so. Nothing had changed, the closer he got to Buffy, the more she could and did hurt him.

It was all the worse because he would have, and did, do it gladly. All she had ever had to do was ask him to die for her, and he would have.

Buffy rested her back against one wall and stared up at the ceiling as if she couldn't look at Spike. He certainly couldn't look at her.

"That night, when Giles took me out training so Robin could kill you," Buffy continued, "he asked me if I'd do it differently. If I'd be willing to kill Dawn to save the world." She paused. When she spoke again her voice was barely above a whisper. "I said yes."

"Buffy-"

"No, I said yes. And of course he was really talking about you, and that's when I figured out that Robin was probably trying to kill you. But just because Giles and all his greater good stuff was wrong then doesn't mean. . . I let you die and you weren't supposed to. It was supposed to be me. . ." her voice trailed off and more tears began to run down her cheeks.

Spike couldn't believe it. He'd done the big sacrifice for her and she saw it as him stealing her thunder.

He put his hands on his hips and looked up at the ceiling. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

She just whimpered in reply.

"You really can't get it through little slayer brain of yours that the world doesn't revolve around you." Spike began to pace angrily around the room, only half aware that Buffy was there. "You can't possibly imagine that you might not be the hero of the piece? That some one else has a destiny? Hmmm?" He continued without giving her a chance to reply. "Well maybe I do? Maybe I'm the one who's important? Maybe I'm the one who was supposed to save the world? Ever think of that?"

Buffy tried to stay something but Spike ran right over the top of all of Buffy's attempts to speak. "But no. I'm just a sidekick right? That's how you see me, i'n'it? As the backup?" He waited for her to say something, but by this time Buffy had given up on trying to get a word in edgewise. "Well?"

Startled Buffy opened her mouth, but before she could say anything the door to the room flew open and Andrew strolled in.

"Hey Buf- Spike?!" Andrew's jaw dropped and before Spike could say anything Andrew had crossed the room and was huggin Spike. "It's you. It's really you! My therapist thought I was holding onto false hope, but . . . I knew you'd come back."

Andrew sniffled, let go of Spike and put his hands on Spike's shoulders. "You're like. . . you're like Gandalf the White, resurrected from the pit of the Balrog. . ." To Spike's horror Andrew reached up and cupped one of Spike's cheeks in his hand. "More beautiful than ever." Andrew hugged Spike again, and from the way he was sniffling, Spike was worried he'd have to clean Andrew snot off of his duster. "Ohh. . . he's alive, Frodo. He's alive."

"Uh, yeah, right," Spike said as he tried to disentangle himself from Andrew's grasp.

To make matters worse, Buffy was all too obviously trying not laugh. Then Spike heard a giggle from the doorway, where several girls, far too young to be in a place like this, were peeking in and whispering to each other while they looked Spike over.

As Andrew finally let go of Spike, he looked around the room for the first time. "I'm not interrupting anything. . . " he leaned forward to whisper in Spike's ear, "kinky. Am I?"

Chapter 11: Intersecting

Buffy giggled, "we missed the bed again," as she nodded towards the small cot in Spike's basement apartment.

She pulled her long blond hair free from the carpet she and Spike had ended up underneath. She took a closer look at the lush Persian rug and asked, "Are these new?"

"No, pet," Spike answered, "they are very, very old. But the place need some color don't you think?"

Buffy looked around at the small room and nodded. "This place is kind of small for you, isn't it?"

Spike looked over the place. An open door caught his eye. Through it he could see a hallway that seemed to go on forever. It was dark, and he couldn't see the way. But at the very end, on a pedestal, sat a golden cup lit by some unidentified light.

"I think it might be too big," Spike replied, as he wondered how he'd ever get to the cup.

"Still," Buffy continued, "it's not very safe." She put her hand over her eyes and blinked at the hot desert sun overhead. "You really don't belong here."

Spike sighed. "I suppose you're right. We should get inside."

They both lifted up the rugs and pulled them over their heads. The cave tunnel was much more comfortable than the desert had been.

"Which way should we go?" Buffy asked as she looked down both ends of the tunnel.

Spike smiled at her, and took both her hands in his. "Do we have to choose?"

She smiled back. "Nope. Choices are of the bad."

She leaned forward and they started to kiss playfully. Just as Buffy was getting ready to upgrade the kisses to more passionate ones, Spike pulled away from her and leaned his ear against one of the cave walls. She was annoyed but at least he kept hold of one of her hands.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

Buffy moved forward and placed her ear and cheek against the cool stone, but she didn't hear anything.

"Someone's in the walls," Spike told her.

"I hope the rats don't play with their knees," Buffy said with great concern.

"This way," Spike said as he started to pull Buffy down the tunnel, following the sound of the heartbeat he could hear reverberating through the walls. Somehow Spike knew it was a little girl, and that she was scared.

They were getting closer when an African man suddenly appeared in front of them. He was dressed in a blue robe with a turban on his head and beads around his neck. In one hand he held a wooden staff which he used to bar their way.

He said something in a language Spike had never heard, and then banged his staff on the ground.

Spike jerked awake from the dream, as if he'd been struck by some sort electrical current. His vampiric eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom, and he remembered where he was–The Hyperion.

He, Buffy, and Andrew had decided that the best place to hide a bunch of slayers from Angel would be in Angel's old hotel. Spike had assured them that Angel completely ignored it, and that the rest of Angel's friends were too busy at Wolfram & Hart to take a nostalgic trip to their old headquarters.

Plus, there were plenty of rooms for the slayers, and a sturdy cage in the basement in which to keep Dana.

Still, transporting a crazy and violent slayer across town hadn't been easy. By the time they were sure she couldn't escape or hurt anyone including herself, they were all worn out. They'd found rooms for themselves to rest in, and set up a schedule to watch over Dana.

In all that time, neither Spike or Buffy had said a word to each other that wasn't strictly business, and they'd retired to opposite sides of the abandoned hotel.

Spike sighed and wondered why things couldn't be more like they'd been with the Buffy in the strange dream he'd just woken from. In his dream, there had been no fears, no hurt, just he and Buffy together and in love.

Because she was just a dream girl, not the real Buffy, Spike answered himself. And when all was said and done, he preferred the real Buffy to any idealized version. He just had to think back to the Buffybot to remember why.

Spike settled back into the bed and tried to make himself comfortable. For a moment, he hoped he wouldn't have any more strange dreams when it hit him–he wasn't having nightmares anymore. The dream he'd just had was every bit as real, surreal, and vivid all at once as the nightmares he'd had before, but nothing had been trying to kill him.

He thought back to when he'd dozed off earlier while waiting for Buffy, and he couldn't remember dreaming anything at all. Suddenly hopeful that he might get a normal night's sleep, Spike rolled onto his side, and tried to go back to sleep.

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

"You don't belong here," the shadow man said to Spike as he struck his staff against the floor.

Just like that Spike was gone.

"Hey," Buffy protested, knowing that even though the shadow man didn't speak English he could understand her just as she understood him. "I need him."

"This is not his place," the shadow man answered as he turned his back on Buffy and began to move back down the tunnel.

"Someone's lost," Buffy called after him. "Do you know where she is?"

"Someone must stand in the gap. It is not your concern," he told her without even looking back.

Stubbornly, Buffy followed after him. "What gap? Why has she left? What's happening? Why isn't she here? Was it ever even her?"

She had more questions, but before she could ask them there was a loud banging noise, as if something very large was trying to break though the walls of the cave.

The man spun around, angry. "You must not interfere. You have done enough!"

He slammed his staff down on the ground again, and Buffy woke up.

"I'm getting kind of sick of this," she mumbled to herself.

She quickly went over the dream in her head. It was something she'd trained herself to do years ago. Slayer dreams were far more vivid than regular dreams, but they tended to fade all the same if she didn't try and hold on to them.

Besides, the parts with Spike in it certainly deserved remembering, even if she found it unlikely that either sex or snuggling with Spike was in her future.

Actually, he was a bit of a mystery. Why had he been in the dream at all? She ran over the dream again, after this kissing he'd started leading her some where, and the shadow man had stopped him. In the dreams that had brought her to L.A. she'd had to find Spike and the First Slayer had been trying to kill him. Was he supposed to lead her somewhere? Was there something only he could find, something neither the First Slayer or the shadow men wanted her to find? Or was she interpreting the whole thing wrong?

Buffy threw off the covers in frustration. She was so confused by jet lag that she had no idea what time it was, she just knew her body didn't think it was time to sleep anymore.

She threw on some clothes and quickly ran a brush through her hair, just enough to get the worst of the tangles out. Then she headed downstairs.

The Hyperion was kind of creepy. There was something abandoned and lonely about the old hotel. If Buffy was going to make a horror movie, this would have been the perfect place to set it, and not just because there was a giant pentagram on the lobby floor that someone had obviously tried and failed to clean off. Whatever had happened there, Buffy was willing to bet it hadn't been good.

When she entered the basement, she was glad to see the slayer on duty was alert and paying attention. She was an ordinary looking girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with long mousy brown hair. She was a plain looking sort of girl, and nothing about her stood out. It was almost hard for Buffy to believe this girl was a slayer. She looked more like a candidate for invisibility.

Buffy always had a hard time dealing with new slayers who hadn't been in Sunnydale, and who she had helped recruit herself. Girls like this one had heard about it, and treated her like she was some sort of larger than life superhero. Sure Buffy had saved the world a few times, but it was still strange having all these people know about it. For so long only her closest friends had known, and they still treated her like she was anyone else–well most of the time. Hero worship wasn't really something she was comfortable with.

"Ms. Summers," the girl sputtered. "Um, hi. The prisoner is secure ma'am."

Buffy winced. She didn't know what was worse, that she'd been called Ms. Summers and ma'am or that the girl seemed to think they were in the army. Just because the Scoobies had unleashed an army of slayers on the world didn't mean she wanted them turning into the Initiative. She wanted her slayers to still be girls. To still have lives.

"Um, thanks. You can just call me Buffy. I, um. . . what was your name again?" Buffy asked sheepishly. Not because she'd forgotten the girls name, but because she'd never bothered to learn the names of any of the slayers Andrew had brought to L.A.

"It's Rebecca, ma-Buffy," the girl replied smiling shyly.

"Rebecca," Buffy repeated to help her remember. "I need to talk to our friend here for a bit," she said nodding towards the girl in the cell. When Buffy had come in she had gotten to her feet and was warily watching Buffy.

Rebecca took a moment to look back and forth between the other two slayers in the room. "Are you sure, Buffy?"

"I'm sure. I'm not letting her out, and I've handled her before." Buffy was actually kind of proud that the girl was willing to question her instead of just doing whatever Buffy told her to. Rebecca might have some promise. "But thanks for checking. Good job," Buffy tried to encourage her. There was definitely a slayer there–and a good one–she just hoped who ever was in charge of training this girl hadn't dismissed her as quickly as Buffy nearly had.

"I'll just be outside then, Buffy." Rebecca smiled warmly this time. As if she and Buffy were becoming fast friends.

Once Rebecca was outside, Buffy took a good long look at the remaining girl–the girl who was supposed to be Dana, but who Buffy was sure was the First Slayer.

"I think it's time you and I had a little chat."