It's Not Enough
By:  Morrigan



"This book sucks."

Dawn closed the book, and dropped it onto the floor by her bed.  She had spent most of the day in her room, listening to music, reading, writing in her journal...  reading, and listening to the Scoobs going in and going out, reading...

Buffy had come up, recently, to ask her if she had eaten and to complain about stupid girls and their stupid clumsy elbows and stakes and something else about stupid vampires.

Most of it didn't make a lot of sense.  Dawn figured it out, mostly, by looking at Buffy's face, and watching her rub her head.  The potentials had knocked her for a loop while chasing a vampire and she was mad at Spike again for being nice to her afterwards, in very typical Buffy fashion.

Now the shower was running and she could hear the rest of the girls downstairs grumbling and groaning.  And someone was down there getting with the stuffy british lecturing.  Only, it didn't sound like Giles.  It was Spike!

Dawn had felt a pang, when she heard him down there, with the potentials.

'Yeah, he can stay down there, all night, and talk to them, but can't put aside five minutes to come up and say hi to me!'  She huffed, inwardly.  She was jealous.

'Jealous? No, not jealous.  Why, on earth, should she be jealous of people who are getting their ears chewed off?'

But she was.  Not about the *getting your ear chewed off* part, but about the being with the gang part.  And more than that, about getting to hang out with Spike.  He had been the only person who ever treated her like a grown-up.  Not just some dumb kid, and she missed that.

*squeak, thud* sounded from the bathroom, followed by "Stupid Soap!"

'It really isn't fair,' she thought.  'Everybody here has something to do but me.  Well, and maybe Andrew.  But, he at least, thinks he does.'

She could hear Spike stop, mid-scolding, to shoo Andrew away.  Broken bits of his voice, traveling up the stairs, and into her room.

"Buggerin'..."  "Nancy Boy..."  "God awful..."  "camera..."  "My face!"

Dawn laughed, in spite of her pity-party mood.  'Now, that sounds more like the Spike I know!' she thought.

She didn't just miss how he made her feel.  She missed him too.

She missed sneaking out at night, to wait for him in his crypt, so that he could tell her scary stories and talk to her about all sorts of things that her sister wouldn't approve of.  She missed how he would pretend that he wasn't happy to see her there, always saying something like,  "The slayer's gonna stake me, good and proper, if she finds out your here, so toddle on now, Little Bit!"  And she would tell him that Buffy thought that she was at Janice's and that it was too late for her to go home now, by herself, leaving him to grumble about bloody daft Summers' women refusing to leave him be...  But then, Spike would offer her the *comfy chair* or they would perch, cross legged on the sarcophagus and hang out, talking about everything and nothing, with Passions or some other late night show playing in the background.  It was cool.

But, then Dawn remembered him coming back, after he went missing...  And she was hateful and had threatened him.  He'd asked Buffy when she had gotten to be so scary.  She was mad at him, for what he had done to Buffy. And she was still hurt and angry at him too, for disappearing and not even saying goodbye, leaving her all alone again, with no one to confide in.

Spike had never said more than a couple of words to her, since then.  And only in mixed company, at that.  She couldn't blame him, though.  He probably thought that she hated him.  After all, threatening to set someone on fire in their sleep wasn't really a Hallmark sentiment for I'm so glad you're back!  And she had spent so much time feeling sorry for herself, that she had never thought about his feelings, before.

Spike was a vampire.  A master vampire, at that, living in a home filled with slayers and demon killers!  A vampire who had crossed the earth to have his soul reinstated, forsaking his former life, his world and even his sanity, for the love of someone who denied his affections.  Returning, none-the-less to stand and fight by her side...  For her cause.  All because, in spite of her rejections, he wished to become the man he felt that she would have wanted.

Spike had lain himself bare and devoted his entire existence to a woman he believed could never look at him with anything but disdain and reluctant acceptance of him as part of her arsenal.

And, even before all that.  Before the soul, he had done anything and everything that Buffy asked of him.  He had taken care of Dawn and their mother.  He had taken care of her, after their mother had died and Buffy had jumped off of the tower.  He even patrolled with Xander and the rest of the gang, even though Xander made him crazy.  He didn't have to do any of those things, but he did.  He did it because he said he would. Because he had made a promise, and soul or no soul, Buffy or no Buffy, he was going to keep it.  He loved her that much.

'Buffy is blind!' Dawn thought.  'How could she not see what she had standing right in front of her?  If someone ever loved me, like that?  Ever even looked at me, the way he does her?  God...  He would be my world.'

She realized, at that moment, that Spike probably felt just as alone as she did.  Maybe her friend needed her, too.

She made a sudden decision then, and hopped off of her bed.  She exited her room, pausing for a moment, by the bathroom door.  Hearing that the shower was still running, she headed down the stairs and past the living room where Spike was Still pacing around, all *grrr* and giving the potentials the *what for!*  As usual, no one even noticed her.

She stilled for a beat, her hand grasping the handle of the basement door.  She didn't know if Spike was willing to accept her apology.  Or, if she even deserved it.  But she was going to find out.

With that thought, she quickly went through the door, and began her descent down the basement stairs, and into the dark.

It's Not Enough
By:  Morrigan


Personal Disclaimer:  No turkeys were harmed during the writing of this fic.




Dawn hadn't bothered turning on the light.  She figured it was fitting, being downthere, in the dark.  It made her feel like she was back to sneaking out to meet him, just like in the past.  The way she had remembered, while upstairs in her room.  She felt her way, gingerly, down the stairs and slowly navigated her way through, until she reached Spike's cot, where she settled down to wait for him.

She wondered if he was going to be mad at her.  She really hated the thought of him being angry with her, any more.  For a brief instant, she considered going back upstairs and sneaking back into her room, but she pushed it away just as quickly.  It would be too late, now.  He would know she had been there.  Vampires have that yucky trait, where they smell out where people have been.  No, leaving now would just make it worse.  He'd probably think she had been snooping around or something.  After all, she had been known to do that, in the past...

'No backing out now, Dawnie,'  she thought, to herself, as she settled down to wait.

By the time Spike entered the room, Dawn wasn't even aware of him being there.  She had fallen fast asleep.  But he was aware of her.  He sensed her presence the moment he stepped through the door.  But, he continued on, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, heading straight for the basement shower, the only tell-tale difference, being that he grabbed a clean pair of jeans off of the stack on his dresser, on his way through.


*  *  *  *  *


"Dawn...  Nibblet, wake up...  C'mon, now..."

Dawn stirred a little, but didn't wake.

She was dreaming.  She was leaning over a pond, trying, desperately, to catch a little fish with a net.  She couldn't seem to catch it, but it kept coming back to her, as if playing a game, which made her all the more determined to get it.  Then it started to rain.  Sprinkling, really.  The light rain droplets sending little ripples out over the water, making it harder and harder to see just where the fishy was.  Suddenly, the surface bubbled, and something started rising through it.  It looked like...  A merman?

Dawn looked down at her tiny fish net and back up to the glistening torso of the creature, that has risen before her, in awe.

"Wow!"  Was all she could think to say.  He was gorgeous!

He reached out to her, "Dawnie!"  He said.  He said her name!  And Dawn knew that she should probably run, but she felt glued to her spot, completely flabbergasted, and not a little excited, by him...  But, why did he sound British?  Was she in England?

Surprisingly warm, damp fingers grazed over her cheek as he said, "Get up.  You're in my bed!"

"What!?"

Spike watched, with tempered curiosity, as Dawn startled, and opened her eyes.  Her groggy eyes regarded him with confusion as reality gradually came back to her.

"You're in my bed," he repeated, as his hand left her face to run his fingers through his damp, towel tousled hair.  "And," he looked down at her, with feigned disdain. "I'm not a fishy."

"Oh!"  Dawn's eyes widened in horror, as she sat up, scooting over to give Spike room to sit down.  'I was talking in my sleep!' She thought, then wondered, mortified...  'What else did I say?'

Spike remained standing.  He had regained his usual dismissive air that he had recently begun to use in her presence.

"Needed a break from all the noise up there, eh?"  He nodded in the direction of the stairs, before continuing.  "Well, t's all clear now.  Little tykes all tucked safe n' sound in their beds, and all, so you can shove off now.  I need to catch me some kip."

Dawn glanced around the basement, which was now illuminated by nothing more than the soft glow of the space heater, placed a few feet away from the cot.  She figured Spike must have turned it on more for her benefit, than his.  He was pretty much immune to changes in temperature, after all.  But then...

Remembering something strange about Spike's touch, just a moment ago, she ignored his dismissal, and without thinking of how strange her actions would seem, she reached out and grasped his hand in hers.

"Oi!" he yelped, pulling his hand away, and tucking his thumb back into the belt loop of his jeans.  "No touching, Bit!"  Don't have time for games n' such. I'm beat.  Now, just...  go."

"You're warm!"  Dawn remarked.  "How did you do that?"

Her eyes sparkled, with childish curiosity, in the reddish light.

"Gads!"  She wasn't going to leave.  Realizing that it was useless to continue trying to persuade the youngest Summers into running along, Spike shook his head and sat down on the edge of the cot beside her, in defeat.

"Shower, Dawn."  He answered her.  "Hot water.  Nothing more."

Dawn's grin was wide with happy fascination, noticing goose bumps running across Spike's back, as he turned away from her to turn the heater more in his direction.

"I thought vampires weren't supposed to feel the cold?"  Dawn wondered, aloud.

Spike rolled his eyes, but leaning closer to the heater, he replied, "We do an' we don't."  We feel it.  Just not the same way you do...  Usually."

His eyes darted back to Dawn.  She was sitting cross legged now, leaning forward in anticipation, for his explanation.

"T's like..."  He searched his brain for a suitable comparison, before he continued.  "Well...  It's sort of like..."

He turned to Dawn, shooting her an irritated expression.

"Does this really matter, to you?"

"Uh-huh," she replied.

Spike thought it looked as though her face would crack from smiling.  Like those big fake put on smiles that waitresses always wear.  What he didn't know, was that he wasn't that far off from the truth.  Dawn truly was curious.  But the smile she wore was forced, to hide how nervous she really was.

"Right then...  Ok...  This is probably going to sound a little weird, but I suppose you could compare it to something like...  a turkey."

"A turkey?"  Dawn's smile faltered a little, one brow rising up in a pretty good imitation of the vampire sitting beside her.

"Well, yeah.  A frozen turkey is dead.  It don't feel nothin' at'all.  But if you put it on the counter for a while, it feels about the same temperature as the rest of the house.  You put it in the oven and it's right hot when you take it out.  Leave it on the counter 'gain and it gets all room temperature like, again, and so on and so on.  You get it?"  He looked at her questioningly before concluding, "The blasted bird doesn't care how hot or cold it is, because it's dead already!  But, it takes on the temperature of it's surroundings and holds it for a while."

"So..."  Dawn furrowed her brows together while looking at him, intently.  "You're a turkey?"

Spike smirked at this and folded his arms over his chest.  "Not likely!"  He exclaimed.  "You're the only bird sitting here, at the moment."

But Dawn could definitely see some of his defensiveness drop away from him, as he turned himself around to sit cross legged on the cot, to face her.

'Ok...  This is good...' Dawn thought, before continuing with her questions.

"Alright.  I get the point.  But, if you don't care about the cold and such, then how come your skin reacts to it, with the goose bumps and stuff?"

Spike shrugged.  "S'pose it's because un-like said turkey I'm un-dead.  He chewed his lip, apparently in thought and his blue eyes gleamed mischievously as he asked "What suppose, would happen if I turned a turkey and see what it does?  Wouldn't that be a bloody riot, come thanksgiving!"

He wiggled his brows at Dawn as she lost herself to giggles, imagining them all sitting around a pristine table, getting ready to eat, as the un-dead turkey came to life and began thrashing around.

"Buffy would freak!"  She declared, through her giggles.

"Right sure she would, Bit!"  Spike agreed.  He had to admit, if only to himself, that he was rather enjoying her unexpected company.  He just wasn't sure why she was really there, since he knew she didn't trust him.

"Yeah," Dawn continued, "But, hey!...  Usually, the turkey on the table has no head.  We'd have to find a way to get around that, because, dusty turkey...  No fun!"

"Yeah."  Spike nodded.  "No fun at all."

Dawn's laughter subsided as she noticed that Spike had gotten serious again.  She looked down to her lap, tucking her hair behind her ears.  She steeled herself for his rejection, as she brought her eyes back up to meet his.

"Spike...  I...  I wanted...  I want to tell you that I'm really sorry....  for how I've treated you.  She stopped there, waiting to see his reaction.

Spike was, for the moment, just as quiet as she had become.  This certainly wasn't what he had expected.  He cared deeply for Dawn.  She had a big heart and carried a fierce loyalty to those she cared for.  But she was also a child who was fueled primarily on selfish emotions.  This meant that she wanted those people to include her in every aspect of their lives and when things didn't go her way, she would protest loudly with tantrums and complaints. She usually insisted that any fouls on her part were due to the injustices others had forced upon her.  Apologies were not, in Spike's experience, in Dawn's portfolio of behaviors.

"Rubbish."  Was Spike's reply.  He waved his hand at her, dismissively.  He wasn't too comfortable with this new turn of events.  "Nothin' to be sorry for."

Dawn's heart sank, as she watched him tilt his chin up defensively.  'He is mad at me.'  She thought.

She watched the muscles in his jaw twitch while he fumbled around, inside his jacket, which had been lying beside the cot, for his smokes.

"Yes, there is!"  She corrected him, her fingers twisted in the worn blanket she was sitting on.  "I was so horrible!  You came back...  And I missed you so much!...  But I was so mean to you!"

"Yeah, Well..."  Spike fiddled, awkwardly, with his pack of smokes.  "I prob'ly deserved it."

He figured he did, after what he had done to cause his departure to begin with.  The two of them sat in silence, for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, Dawn mustered up her courage again to continue.

"No, you didn't, Spike."  She shook her head and gestured to him, weakly, before dropping her hand back down to her lap.  "It's obvious, after what you did, that you felt bad enough about that all by yourself.  And I knew it too."  I just..."  A single tear rolled down her cheek as she looked back up into Spike's eyes.  "I was just so angry at you for leaving me.  I know that I was just a kid to you..."

Spike's eyes darkened and he opened his mouth to say something in return, but she carried on before he could get a word out.

"But you were my best friend.  You were the only person who ever made me feel like I was really here!"

Spike closed his eyes as he heard her heartfelt words.  He could smell the heartache coming off of her, as real as day.  He wasn't prepared for this.  He knew that she carried a youthful inquisitiveness about his former life and that she thought it was cool to be able to hang around a vampire.  Kids are like that.  But he never realized that she had cared that much about him.  And her choice of words had struck a chord in his heart.  He recalled himself speaking words very similar to Dawn's sister, once.  Because Buffy may have insisted that he was an evil thing...  But she made him feel alive.

Spike reached out to her, then.  He wiped her tears from her face and held his hand under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye as he softly told her.

"You're not just a kid Dawnie.  You're my Nibblet," before gathering her up into his arms, holding her to him as she cried.  Her tears of worry now turned to those of joy from knowing, at last, that she had her friend back and would never ever do anything to lose him again.


*  *  *  *  *


Spike and Dawn stayed down there until the sun came up.  Not that it made any difference, down there, in the basement.  They talked about all sorts of things, neither one of them in a rush to be alone now.  Each one taking comfort in the other's company, and catching up on each other's lives, or un-lives, as it were.  When it was finally apparent to Dawn that she was dead on her feet and really did need to get some rest, she gave Spike one more hug before turning to head back up the stairs.

 As Spike watched her turn to go, he thought about some of the things Dawn had poured out to him tonight.  About how she felt so alone all the time.  How she felt left out of all things going on.  All the big secrets and the plans and so on.  And this gave him an idea.

At that moment, he decided that he wanted to share something with her.  Something that he had carried back with him, after retrieving his soul.  Something that no one else in the world knew about.

Dawn had just reached the top of the stairs when he called out to her.

"Hey, Bit!"

She stopped, and turned to look at him with a little sleepy smile on her face.  Spike stood up and held out his hand to her.

"C'mere.  There's something I want to show you."

Curious, as to what he had in mind, she skipped down the steps, taking his hand and following him as he led her toward the bathroom.

"Right then.  Now, go inside there,"

She gave him an odd look, before stepping inside.  Seeing nothing unusual, she turned back to him and asked, "Now what?"

Spike was standing just outside the doorway, grinning from ear to ear and bouncing on the balls of his feet, obviously anxious for her to see whatever it was that he was trying to show her.  He pointed to her left and said "Look there."

She did, and all she saw was the mirror.

"What do you see, Bit?"  He had stopped hopping and was now rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"I don't see anything unusual, Spike.  Just the mirror."

"Yes..."  Spike agreed.  "And what's in the mirror, Pet?"

Dawn's face softened and her eyes seemed a little sad as she looked at her reflection.  "I see me.  Me and nothing else."

Dawn looked at the white marble sink. She heard Spike step in behind her, and felt his hands come up to her shoulders, holding her there. She didn't bother looking up, because all she would see was herself and no one else, and that was always sort of creepy.

"You aren't looking hard enough, nibblet."  Spike whispered in her ear.  "Look again."

"There isn't anything in here Spike," she protested, but looked up anyway.  And the rest of her words melted away as she took in the sight of herself in the clutches of a smirking, wickedly hot looking vampire.

As she watched, he leaned in close to her ear, winked at their reflection and whispered,  "Boo."

It's Not Enough
By:  Morrigan



'It's going to be a long day.'  Buffy thought, as she took another sip of the hot coffee from the flowery mug she held in her hands.


*  *  *  *  *


She had spent most of the night with Willow and Giles, in her room, discussing her visions.   Willow tried to be all about the supportive, telling Buffy that she had made the right decision, but Giles seemed to have a different point of view.  In fact, he seemed to be reluctant to give any opinion at all.  His reticence spoke volumes to Buffy.  It was apparent to her that Giles believed she had screwed things up.  That was ok though, because he was right.  She had.  But now, she intended to make things right.

The problem was, or so it seemed, after reading through the book from the chest, that she couldn't just jump back through the portal and reclaim her *gift.*  They were going to need something else.  But what?

So, seeing that it was going to be a research session after all, Willow decided that she would get up early in the morning and head out to the magic shop to dig around in the books, while Giles vowed to research the remaining Watcher's files, along with the book from the Slayers' chest.  Both of them had hopes that they could find some sort of a loophole.

Buffy tried to get some sleep once they had left, but only succeeded in getting a couple of hours in.  Every time she closed her eyes, she would be back in the graveyard, minus the headache, but in Spike's arms, all the same.

"Ugh..."

She tossed.  She turned.  She dozed.  She dreamed.

She was right back there again.  Spike was holding her.  Her eyes were closed, but she knew, just like before, that it had to be him.  She didn't want to open her eyes.  She wanted to remain like this, lost in only the sensations of him.  His touch, his smell, the feeling of safety, cradled in his arms.  She wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face close to his neck, just above his heart, and thought to herself,  'Thank God.  Not dust.  For the love or hate of him, this vampire is mine.'  Then oddly,  'His life, his death, is mine.'

Suddenly, as if he had heard her, he answered softly,  "Always, Love."

Buffy frowned then, thinking,  'How weird!  I didn't say anything...'  When she felt something wet slide down past her cheek.  Wet.  Sticky.  And cold.

Her hand came up to her face to feel the substance.  Pulling away, slightly, she looked at her hand, and saw that it was blood!  Sitting more upright, she became aware as the cool night air swept past her face, that it was all over her mouth!  Shaking, she looked up at Spike and gasped.  The left side of his neck was torn and bleeding profusely.  The blood poured out in small rivers to drip down onto the cool grass between them.

Spike blinked and looked down, almost shyly, before bringing his eyes back up to hers.  A gleam of something different was replaced in them, and one side of his mouth curved into a sultry smile as he said,

"Ladies first."

Buffy woke with a start, her heart hammering in her chest.  It had seemed so real!  She had jumped up, quickly running into the bathroom to peer at her reflection.

'What does it mean?'  She wondered.  No.  'It can't mean anything...  Can it?'

Buffy turned on the taps and splashed some cool water on her face.  After blotting it with a towel, she looked back to her reflection and told herself, "No.  It's just a dream.  Go back to bed!"  But her self-scolding didn't do anything to help her nerves.

Deciding that sleep was a lost cause, Buffy got dressed for the day, and headed downstairs to the kitchen, to make a pot of coffee.


*  *  *  *  *


Which is where she still was, when Dawn came through from the direction of the basement.
 
She didn't even notice Buffy as she passed the kitchen and staggered up the stairs to her room.  Buffy didn't say a word.  Why should she?  A long time had come and gone since the days when she used to have to track her little sister down and drag her out of Spike's crypt.  Did she think things would be any different now that he was living here?  Or more aptly, did she ever consider it at all, since Dawn had seemed so dead set against Spike being back around since...

Buffy shook her head, closed her eyes and drank down the remaining contents of her cup.

'No, Buffy.  No thinking about that either.  He's different now.  He's not like that, anymore.'

Buffy pushed her chair back and got up to pour herself a refill.

Ok...  So, Dawn and Spike made up.  This is a good thing.  Dawn needed someone to talk to.  She sure as hell didn't seem as if she felt like talking to Buffy.  But then, she thought about what Giles would have done if he had seen Dawn coming through that door.  Giles, most likely, would have flipped.  He still believed Spike to be triggered.  And he was more than a little p.o'd that Buffy allowed him to stay in the house with them.

She turned her attention to the steam rising out of her coffee cup.  It swirled around like pretty ribbons, a few inches above the rim, before it disappeared.

She didn't know how long she had been spacing out, but when she looked up again, Spike was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her silently.

"Oh, hey."  Buffy greeted him, and sat up a little more in her chair.  "I didn't hear you come up."

Spike nodded his head in understanding.  "Vampire," he reminded her simply.

"Yeah..."  Buffy agreed, absentmindedly.  'But...  I should have felt him,' she thought.

"I must be losing my touch," she said, and shrugged.

"Must be."  Spike's answer came back to her.

'Ok,' she thought.  'This is just weird!  Spike is never this quiet.  I wonder what's eating hi...  Ew!...'

The vision of Spike, soaked in blood flashed though her mind at that thought, making her instantly queasy.

'I wonder what's *bugging* him.'

Standing, with her cup, Buffy motioned to the table and asked,  "You wanna sit down?"  But Spike just shook his head, then nodded to the window.

"Nah, I think I'll just stand here..."

And then it clicked, what was so strange about him.

Buffy looked to the window and back, remembering that she had pulled the curtains completely open, when she first came in. The entire kitchen was filled with sunlight and although Spike hadn't stepped any closer than the doorway, the bright beams were shining all the way into the living room. Not just on Spike, but behind him as well!

Buffy's mouth thinned to a hard line as she set down her mug, folded her arms and leaned her back against the counter.

"You're not Spike."  She stated coldly, to which The First rewarded her with a big open smile.

He extended one arm out with a grand flourish and bowed.  "At your service, Love.  Or, perhaps, you would rather be at mine?"

He smirked and looked her over, suggestively, before breaking out in giggles.

"Oh now, stop it Slayer!  Where's your sense of humor?  Don't be such a tight-ass!  You're liable to pass a diamond, that way!"

Buffy was less than amused.

"What do you want?"  She asked.  "Make it quick, because I don't have time for you."

The First continued to beam at her.  The overly-wide grin looked creepy, worn on Spike's face.

"Oh, you have all the time I need."  He said.  "I was actually thinkin' 'bout singin' me a little song.  It's a beautiful day for singin, don't you think, Love?"

He pointed in the direction of the basement door and, impossibly, smiled even wider as he watched her expression darken.

"You leave Spike alone."  Buffy hissed.

"Oh, you leave Spike alone!"  The First taunted her, with a sneer.  "Oh, I'm positively horrified now!  Whatever shall I do?  There's a tiny little girl in the kitchen who's very mad at the Big Bad!"  "Well, let me tell you something...  Little girl."

He paced into the kitchen, stopping only a couple of feet away.

"You can't stop me.  But I'm having way too much fun watching you try.  By the way..."  His face sobered in mock concern.  "Is your sister alright?  I do hope so...  You know, for a protector of innocents, you really are quite trusting.  I would think that you, of all people, would know better than to leave her alone with a vampire...  But then, perhaps you were too busy to notice?  Did she talk to you, on her way back inside?  Come and give you a good-morning hug, perhaps?  I would watch my charges more carefully, if I were you..."

Buffy's eyes grew wide, then, with fear.

'Oh God...'  She thought.  Not Dawn!  She couldn't be...'

"Dawn!"

Buffy walked through the apparition and headed for the stairs, shouting her sister's name, as The First began to snicker , behind her.

The sinister laughter echoed through the stillness of the house and began to change, sounding more feminine.

Taking one last look back, as she neared the top, Buffy saw what appeared to be an older woman with long blonde hair and familiar blue eyes, dressed in Victorian attire.

Catching Buffy's eye, the woman stopped laughing, to click her tongue and wave her finger in a scolding manner as she asked, in a sing-song voice, "How could you use a poor maid so?"  Before she dissolved into dust.

Buffy turned back to the stairs, calling her sister's name as she ran the rest of the way to Dawn's room.

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan




Dawn was so freakin' tired.  She had just started to fall into a really good sleep, when her crazy ass sister came crashing through her room and pulled her up out of the bed, all but crushing her with hugs and kisses and giving thanks to God that she was still alive.

Some hurried explanations, mad dashes around the house, and a couple of phone calls later, sshe now found herself back in the basement, watching while Giles and Willow prepared to perform some sort of spell on Spike, who was now chained to the wall.

"Get these soddin' things off of me!"

Spike glared at the Watcher, casting another one to the other gentleman leaning casually against the stairwell.

"And what are you doin' here?  Come to watch the show?"  Spike asked him.

"I thought you could use some support," came Wood's reply.

Why the hell Buffy had called him, Spike had no idea.  He wasn't lost on the fact that Buffy's new *boss* didn't like him.  Even a blind man could see it.  Spike dropped his arms to his sides, causing the chains to rattle loudly against the cot's frame.

Dawn looked from Spike to Buffy and then followed Spike's hateful looks to the man who was standing by the stairs, on which she was sitting.

'Why *was* he here?' He didn't look concerned for Spike in the least.  He looked like he enjoyed seeing Spike this way.  And seeing him stare at her friend, with that smug look on his face, made her sick.

Dawn got up and started back up the stairs.  Principal Wood might have Buffy fooled, but Dawn didn't trust him a bit!

Spike's screams followed her, shortly after.


*  *  *  *  *


Robin felt exhilarated!   For years he had trained and dedicated his life to finding the monster that had murdered his mother, dreaming of the day that he would find him and be able to exact his revenge.  His time had come!

He had stood by, in Buffy's basement and seen Spike turn, before his very eyes; all traces of his *soulful* self stripped away to reveal what he really and truly was, underneath the disguise.  An animal.

He watched, after he changed back into his human mask, how Buffy had quickly gone to un-chain him, her eyes brimming with worry for that filthy demon.

Buffy told Giles that he was being stupid and that she wouldn't allow him to keep Spike chained up.  Spike just got up, curled his lip at Giles and roughly shouldered past Robin, all without Buffy's notice, before dutifully following her up the stairs like a tame little dog.  And Robin wanted to put him down, like the dog he was.

He had stopped Giles before he could follow everyone back into the main house.   Giles was Buffy's watcher.   He would listen to reason.

Giles had taken Buffy out to distract her, while Robin led Spike to his *sanctuary* under the false reason that he would stay with Spike until Buffy got back.  Of course, this was just so that Spike wouldn't be left alone in the house until they figured out how to remove Spike's trigger.  That's what they told them, anyway.  But Robin and Giles had a plan.

Now, as he circled Spike, in the center of the room, looking into the hateful golden eyes of his mother's killer, he wondered how Buffy could be so blind?  She was the slayer, just as his mother had been!  And Spike was a vampire!  Not some brave soldier that would help her win this war.

Spike was evil.  Spike was dangerous.  But when Robin was through with him, Spike would be dust.

'It's a bitch, when things don't turn out the way you had planned,' a weary and beaten Robin thought, as a very rational and in control Spike slid back into game face and sank his fangs into Robin's neck.

As the vampire began to drain him, the last thing he saw was his mother, shaking her head reminding him that she had told him to hide, before he slipped into the darkness.


*  *  *  *  *


Buffy found Spike as he was exiting the shed.  She was winded from sprinting all the way from the graveyard, where she had left Giles.  She couldn't believe that Giles had intentionally distracted her so that he could have Spike killed!  She felt such relief at seeing that he was alive!  She wanted to throw her arms around him.  She shouted his name, as she raced the rest of the way to his side.

"Are you hurt?"

Without thinking, she reached out to him, wanting to check for injuries, but the set of his jaw and the cold look in his eyes stopped her dead in her tracks.  He turned back to the shed and pushed the door open, motioning for her to look inside.

Robin Wood was slumped against the wall...  one of many that was completely covered with crosses.  His face was ashen and his neck oozed from where he had been bitten.  She turned back to Spike, questioning with her eyes.

"I gave him a pass...  On account that I killed his mum."  Spike told her, stepping back as if he was going to walk away, before turning again and pointing back through the door.

"If he ever so much as looks at me again, I'll kill 'im!"

And with those parting words, he turned and stormed off into the night.

Buffy had been left to pick up the pieces.  But as disgusted as she was with what Giles and Wood had done, she didn't intend to.

She sympathized with Robin about his mother, but let him know that under no uncertain terms was she willing to put up withhis vendettas.

"If you try anything like this again," she said, "He'll kill you.  And more importantly..."  She looked into Robin's eyes with firm resolve.  "I'll let him."  Before, she too, turned and walked out the door, leaving him alone.

Buffy walked stiffly back to Revello drive.

'Twice in one day,' she kept thinking.  'Twice in one day, I was tricked, and wasn't around when I should have been.  This stops now!'

Buffy had been a student, a friend, an employee and a girl.  And what had that got her?   Her teacher and her boss had betrayed her, her friends turned their backs and her love
interest was...  alive.  Well, sort of, anyway.  And, 'Did I just think the *L* word?'

She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, before stuffing her hands into her pockets and marching faster, toward her house.

'It doesn't matter now.  I'm THE slayer.  The one and only.  It's time I handled things that way.  On my own.'

She marched up the stairs to her room, only to be blocked by Giles waiting for her, in the hallway.

"Buffy," He began.  "I know you don't understand right now but..."

"He's alive."  She stated.  "Spike's alive."

He continued stand in front of her door, telling her that it didn't change anything, and that Spike was still a threat and reminded her that he was still her teacher.

"No."  She said, meeting his eyes with seething anger.  "No, I think you've taught me all I need to know."

Giles looked sad and hurt, but he still wouldn't move.  Frustrated at not being able to be alone or even to get into her own room and feeling cornered by the one person she really didn't want to have to see right now, she turned and walked back downstairs to the only person she felt she could trust.  Spike.

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan





Buffy cleared her throat, a little loudly, as she walked down the steps to alert him of her presence.  This made her laugh a little, at herself, because he would already know that she was there.  It just seemed...  polite somehow?

Spike was reclined on the cot, one knee bent and smoking.  He nodded at her, acknowledging her presence.

"Lo Pet.  Lost your way?"

"In more ways than one."  She answered softly.

Now that she was here, face to face with him, she didn't know what to say.

Her eyes took in the slowly fading welts and bruises on his arms and face.  She knew she should probably ask him how he was feeling.  She thought that, perhaps, he might want to tell her more about what had happened.  But more than anything, she just wanted to scream.  She wanted to tell him that she was sorry.  That she had been stupid and naive and too trusting and...  God, was she tired.

Spike watched silently as Buffy's emotions played themselves out in her eyes.  to him, they seemed to flash and dim almost like the sky caught in a storm.  He had always loved a good storm.  But a storm was always followed by rain.  And he didn't know if he was up to withstanding an emotional downpour, this evening.

Throughout his battle with Wood he had stumbled upon a revelation.  By using Spike's trigger against him, Wood had inadvertently freed him from it's bondage.  The guilty secret that had plagued Spike for over a century, exposed for him to re-live, had given him the opportunity to look upon it as an outsider.  He could finally acknowledge what he had never allowed himself to see before.

He had made a terrible mistake by trying to keep his mother in this world.  Turning her had released a powerful demon in her wake, and it tore into him something fierce.  All these years, he had never forgotten her actions, or the words that she had spoken to him.  Spike had taken it all to heart, causing the feelings of worthlessness, that had haunted him all through his mortal life, to re-awaken in this one.

His heart shattered by her words and horrified at her physical advances, he had killed her.  He had never, until now, let himself believe what he now knew to be the truth of it all.  The words she spat at him were the demon's and not her own.  Her kind spirit was not strong enough to resist the desires of the demon that had merged with her being, and it had enslaved her.  But in destroying it, he had set her free.  She was too good for this world, anyway.

He had been thinking about how ironic it was, that Wood's exploitation of Spike's trigger to avenge his own mother's death had worked against him.  Robin had blamed Spike for his orphaned childhood, no doubt imagining one replaced with happy memories of growing up, being raised and cared for by his loving, dutiful mother who adored him.  Spike had lived out his un-life feeling as though he had been less than dirt from the beginning of his creation, ridiculed and despised by everyone around him, including his own mother!  In the end, they both had new truths to face.

Spike's mother had loved him with all her heart.  In life, he was her world.  Robin always was, and in the end was forever proven to be, second fiddle to Nikki's calling.  And Spike, the nasty vile creature who had taken her life, fair and square, had the pleasure of reminding Wood of that fact.  He hoped that wanker had many a night to chew on that one!

"Well?"  Spike asked her, at long last.  "What is it, then?  Cat got your tongue?"

He assumed that she had come down to lecture him on biting the man, or some other useless nonsense.  He wasn't going to apologize.  Splinter deserved it.  And, what made him think he could take Spike on, anyway?  If his mum couldn't do it, he sure as bloody hell wouldn't be able to!  If nothing else, the egotistical shit deserved it for being so stupid!

Instead, what he heard was "I don't have anywhere else to go."

'Oh that's real good Buffy!'  She thought.  'Just jump out with the *oh poor me* statements to the attempted staking victim!'

She blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and tried to find a way to elaborate.

"It's Giles...  He wont...  He wouldn't..."

She wasn't very successful.

'Oh, so that was this is all about.'  Spike thought.  'She needs a bed for the night, and wants mine.'

He nodded his consent, put out his cigarette and reached for his duster.

"Sure thing."  He replied.  "I'll just take the chair."

He was just beginning to stand, when he felt Buffy's fingers touch his face.  He closed his eyes against the emotions which flooded him at this simple, yet un-expected touch.  He unconsciously turned his face into her hand.

Buffy had been staring at the mark on Spike's cheek.  It was still swollen, although fading, but the fuzzy outline of the cross remained.  A symbol serving as a reminder of self sacrifice for the world, love, and the saving of souls.  But to Spike, who had fought for his soul for love, and was willing to battle for a world that didn't want him, it was a reminder of pain.  To Buffy, it just didn't seem fair.

She traced it's outline with her fingers and felt her heart break just a little, when she saw his eyes close.  It had to hurt still.  And maybe she was wrong to assume such a forward approach with him.  He had been through a lot.  Not just tonight, but from Buffy, herself.  She had never taken his feelings into account before he had returned, and so it wasn't familiar territory for her now.  Maybe she had no right to touch him at all.

"I'm sorry."  Buffy whispered, to which Spike opened his eyes and met hers with a weary smile and a shrug.

'Of course, she's sorry, you git!'  He thought.  'Leave it to you to get all emotional over nothin like some pimple faced teen ager.   As if she would have meant anythin' by it, anyway.'  

He shrugged, thinking her apology was for taking his bed, and began to step around her when she took hold of his arm.

"Please..."  Buffy began, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth before continuing.  "Don't.  Can we just?...  Would it be alright, if I...  stay here with you?

Buffy held her breath, waiting to see what he would say.  In that instant, she was terrified.

Spike was terrified!  Part of him wondered if he had imagined her words, but the tremble in her hand and the speed of her heart told him it was true.  His eyes searched hers,once more, and saw the silent plea held within them, as well.

"Are you sure, Love?"  He asked her.

He was afraid of bursting this bubble he had managed to float into, but would rather do it now, then end up on the receiving end of her sharp tongue, if he had mis-read her intentions, later.

"Yeah."  She said.  Her expression was so open now, it was almost child-like.  "I don't want to be alone, Spike.  Could you just...  hold me?"

Without another word, he turned and climbed back into bed, scooting back toward the wall, one arm outstretched with the other holding the blankets up to leave Buffy room to climb in beside him.  As she did so, she wrapped both hands around his arm, which now lay under her head, snuggling close with her back to him.  Spike folded his other arm around her and was a little surprised as she removed a hand from his arm to grasp his hand in her own, pulling them both to rest under her chin while one of her feet slipped between his legs, holding them close to her as well.

If Spike's heart could beat, the sound would have been deafening.  There were no words between them, as she slipped into sleep.  Spike remained awake long after, watching her, breathing in her scent, and marveling at the feel of her body against his.

"Goodnight, Love."  He whispered, placing a soft kiss on her cheek as he closed his eyes.  His reflexive breathing matching Buffy's own, as he followed her into sleep.

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan





Buffy was late for work.

At first, she had been confused as to where she was when she first awoke, this morning.  Then she gradually became aware of the arm which was still wrapped comfortingly around her.

'Oh shit!'  She remembered.  'I'm in the basement with Spike...  I'm in bed with Spike!  Damn!'

She shifted herself over, careful not to disturb the still sleeping vampire.  After gently lifting his arm so that she could slip out of bed, she took a moment to gaze fondly at him, admiring how the soft light from the space heater caused shadows to dance across the sharp features of his face.  Buffy had no sure way of knowing what time it was, down here.  But her internal clock was telling her that she had slept in much later than she should have.  And she needed to go.

She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well.  The events from last night, although still disturbing, seemed so far away right now.  She owed that to Spike, she knew.  Although he had been the one most wronged, he had still put himself second to her needs.  She felt a twinge of guilt at this, remembering that it had always been this way.

'He's so strange.'  Buffy thought.  'Vampires aren't supposed to love!  Vampires are supposed to be self serving, by nature!'

But Spike had broken that mold.  He'd broken it long before he went and got his soul back.  Hell, he'd broken it long before Buffy was even born.  He'd cared for Drusilla for 100 years, forgiving all of her infidelities, despite the fact that she was crazier than a mad hatter!  But in the end,
it didn't really matter to Dru.  She had left him because the *pixies told her that the sunshine had taken her sweet William away...*  Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean!

But Buffy did know.  She knew, because Spike told her.  He'd told Buffy that he loved her.  And if there was nothing else she had learned about Spike, it was this: despite his wise-cracks and bravado, once all the bullshit was stripped away, when it came to his feelings, Spike was honest.

Buffy often wished she could be as honest with others as he was.  But she had enough trouble being honest with herself.  'Last night.  Right now.  This feels honest.  But when I go back up there?...'

All she knew for certain, was that she didn't know.  So, acting, before the moment left her, she leaned down and brushed the lightest of kisses across Spike's lips, before turning and quietly creeping out of the room.  She was completely unaware of Spike's gaze following her as she headed up the stairs and through the door.

Where she ran smack into Dawn, who, after recovering, assumed an authoritative pose, bringing her hands to her hips and tapping her foot, with eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Hey!  Dawn...  I've got to get upstairs and get ready for work!

Buffy attempted to slip past her sister, failing as Dawn deftly stepped into her line of retreat.

"What were you doing down there?"  Dawn asked her, seriously.

"What do you mean?"

Buffy scoffed at Dawn, trying desperately to look as though she really didn't have a clue about what her sister was really thinking.

"What was I doing?  I was looking for my peasant top, of course!  But, it's not in the dryer, so if you'll excuse me..."

"Buffy," Dawn scolded, as she blocked her exit again.  "You're wearing your peasant top...  And, it's already after 2:30."

Dawn watched as Buffy's head whipped back around to meet her eyes with a deer-in-the-headlights stare, and could no longer hold back the smirk that she had fought so hard to keep down.

"You're busted, young lady!"  She exclaimed.  "You were down there all night, weren't you?  I mean, I *know* you've been down there all day..."

Dawn's slow grin crept across her face until she was literally beaming.  Buffy saw this as the smug confidence of one who now owns awesome blackmail material!

"Oh God!"  Buffy moaned, I'm gonna get fired!  I can't get fired!  I was going to quit!"

She refused to give Dawn the dirt that she was digging for.  She walked into the living room and paced about, looking for the cordless phone.

"I already told them you were sick.  Diarrhea, vomiting, the works!"  Dawn explained, earning herself a dirty look from her sister.

Dawn nodded, seeming very proud of herself.   Then in a conspiratorial manner, Dawn added,

"Yeah, Mrs. Jamison said that there must be something going around, because Principal Wood called in too.  Something about having a sore throat!"

Amused at her own joke, Dawn slapped her knee and lost herself to chuckles.

"Not cool, Dawnie."

Buffy scowled at her, before flopping down on the sofa, in a huff.  But inside, she was laughing too.  The whole situation was anything but funny.  But being right in the thick of things she supposed a person had to laugh or die.

Dawn pulled herself together, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes and came over to join Buffy on the couch.  Once there, she grinned at Buffy and resumed her previous interrogation.

"So...  You weren't looking for your work clothes, aaaaaand you have major bed-head, even though your bed hasn't been slept in since the night before last, and you've just come up from the basement...  You slept with Spike, didn't you!?"

"No!"  Buffy exclaimed.  Followed by, "Well yeah...  I mean, I slept, but..."

"Yep!"  Dawn was practically bouncing out of her seat.  "I knew it!  You guys did it!  That's my sister, Buffy the Vampire Slut!"

"Dawn!  We *SO* did not do it!"

Buffy found it hard to believe she was having so much trouble getting around her little sister.

"And...  Oh my God, Dawn, did you just call me a slut!?"

Dawn quickly sobered and backpedaled, saying,

"Well, yeah...  But I was kidding."

Buffy just stared at Dawn for the longest time, before speaking again.

"So?...  Ok, I was down there with Spike.  But, it wasn't like that.  I'm assuming by your little joke a minute ago, that you know what happened last night between Spike and principal Wood?..."

"Yeah," Dawn nodded in agreement.  "Giles told me that the bastard tried to kill him."

Dawn's eyes narrowed and she said this.  She really hated Principal Wood.

"That's right.  He did."  Buffy confirmed.  But did Giles tell you that the two of them planned it together?  That he, himself tried to keep me distracted so that Wood could do it?"

Dawn's eyes widened in horror, as she took in Buffy's words.

"But, Buffy!  Why would he do that?  She asked.  I mean...  He's *Giles*"  She couldn't imagine him betraying Buffy that way.  He had become a sort of father figure to them.

"Yes, Giles."  Buffy began counting on her fingers as she made her points.

"An ex-member of the watcher's council, sworn to help eradicate demons and vampires.  A group of men who are color blind to anything other than clear cut black and white."

She tried to block out the fresh wave of pain that she felt, as she noted the similar feeling mirrored in her little sister's eyes.

"Anyway," Buffy continued. "I got there, just as Spike was leaving...  And when I came home, all I wanted to do was go to bed, and Giles wouldn't let me.  He just wanted to talk about why it was the right thing to do blah-blah-blah...  I couldn't take it, and so, I left.  And I ended up staying downstairs with Spike."

She shrugged and pushed her fingers through her messy hair and sighed.

"It seemed like the best place to go, at the time."  She said.  "We'd both been betrayed by the same people, after all."

"And?..."

Dawn dragged out this one syllable word as if it were two.  One eyebrow coming up as she spoke it.  Buffy thought it was eerie, how much she resembled Spike when she did that.  Her sister had spent far too much time with him.

"And nothing, Dawn.  We went to sleep."

Dawn was leaned back now, against the arm of the sofa.  Her arms were folded across her chest and she looked very much like she had something that she wanted to say.  When she finally did, Buffy felt her stomach tie up in knots.

"Is that all it is to you, Buffy? Nothing?"

'Spike was right,' Buffy thought, 'a few months ago, when he said that Dawn had become scary.  She really was!'

"Well...  Sleep isn't very exciting."  She lamely replied.

"Not the sleeping part, Buffy."  Dawn corrected her.  "This thing, between you and Spike."

Buffy rolled her eyes in frustration.  She didn't know why Dawn wanted to pursue this so badly.

"Spike and I don't have a thing, Dawn.  There is no *me and Spike.*

But Dawn just shook her head.

"Isn't there?  I mean, he's like your other half, Buffy.  His strengths are your weaknesses and vice-versa...  You confide in each other, you lean on each other, he's the one you always want watching your back when you patrol.  He's the first one you told about being in heaven..."

Dawn faltered a little after she said that last part.  Her feelings were still a little hurt over that.

Buffy couldn't believe what she was hearing!  It sounded to her like Dawn was not only insinuating that she and Spike already had a romantic relationship, but that she was in favor of it!

"Dawn..."

Buffy tried to think of an argument, but was so stunned that she couldn't come up with one, right off.  She turned her attention to some invisible snag on the hem of her shirt, fiddling with the edges, as she answered her sister.

"And what if you are right?"  Buffy's voice was barely more than a whisper.  "What if I do have feelings for him?  It can't ever be anything."  She looked at Dawn, regret now visible in her eyes.  "He's a vampire, Dawn.  He's not human.  He"-

"Has a soul!"

Dawn interrupted, her eyes wide with indignation for her friend, knowing which way her sister was going with her words.  She couldn't believe that Buffy was going to try and apply the old *Vampire equals Bad* rules to Spike.  Not after everything they had been through.

Buffy was always talking about how people should stand up for what they believe in.  But here she was denying what her actions spoke so clearly to Dawn.

"Angel had a soul too."  Buffy said.  "And you saw what happened with him."

Dawn was getting disgusted now.  What was wrong with Buffy, anyway?  Was she really so stupid?

"Yeah, Buffy.  He did.  But he didnt' want it.  He liked himself, just like he was.  He was cursed with his.  Not like Spike.  Spike wanted his...  So he could offer it to you!"

She coughed out a hoarse laugh, and glared at Buffy with open distaste.

"Not that you deserve it!  A normal guy could lie to you all day long and tell you they would walk through hell for you, and you would fall all over him.  But let someone actually do it, and you just turn up your nose!

Buffy felt Dawn's words hit her, like a slap in the face.  Her hand, unconsciously coming up to her cheek, as if she had been.  She felt her eyes start to water, as she looked back down at the hem of her shirt, in which her fingers still twisted, and shook her head.

"I know...  But...  He's not. Normal, Dawn."  Buffy responded, meekly.  "I can't live in his world."

Buffy recalled standing on the balcony of the Bronze with Spike, like it was just yesterday.

"Look at them." He had said, as they gazed upon her friends, dancing below. "You can never be like them.  You're a creature of the darkness.  You belong in the dark...  With me."

Dawn saw the pain written across her sister's face, and found herself feeling a little sorry for how harsh she had been.  But, she also knew that as much as Buffy was hurting, Spike had been hurting just as much, and for far longer.  After all, he was the one who had been Buffy's dirty little secret.  Buffy would never have stood for someone treating her that way.  And now that Dawn had finally mended her own bridges with Spike, she found herself feeling quite protective of him.  Dawn wasn't going to just stand on the side lines and let her do it again.  She would go to bat for her friend.

"Uh huh."  Dawn nodded her head, her tone softened, but her feelings were still evident.  "And you are a Slayer and I am, or was, a key.  We live with a witch, a house full of potential slayers and an ex-vengeance demon, but we're ok, because we're all normal.

Dawn stood up with a sigh and put her hand on her sister's shoulder.

"I love you, Buffy.  But you really need to get a grip."  Dawn turned to go, but before reaching her room, she called to Buffy from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, and one more thing...  You don't have to try and live in Spike's world.  He's already living in yours."

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan



"He's a man, brave and true.  The kind of man who's not afraid to get his hands dirty,knowing that it is up to him to get the job done...  It's time to take out the trash!"

Andrew walked around to the side of the house and tossed a couple of kitchen trash bags into the garbage can.

"Yes," he continued, "Those men in grey jumpsuits are gonna get what's theirs!"

He clapped his hands together, before grasping the handles of the trash can and pulling it down the driveway to rest on the curb.

It was a beautiful night. The warm breeze blew softly, the almost full moon was glowing brightly and the stars were out in full force, sparkling like glitter thrown out across the evening sky.  Andrew put his hands in his pockets and smiled up at the sight, taking in a deep breath of appreciation.  He wrinkled his nose as he realized that the air might have smelled much sweeter, had he stepped away from the garbage first!

Andrew didn't think it was really so bad, being here.  Sure, most of the people in the house ignored him.  Some of them even picked on him, but he was used to that.  And he was sure that if he kept on trying to help, someone would eventually take notice and see that he could really be one of them.
 'I can do all sorts of helpful stuff,' He reasoned, 'I can read lots of demon languages; I can perform spells... well, some, anyway...  I'm not too good at catching pigs...'

Andrew got distracted easily.  Which was, most likely, why he didn't notice the shadowy figures, which were watching him from behind the bushes along the driveway.


*  *  *  *  *

Meanwhile, inside...


It doesn't matter, Ahn!"  Xander exclaimed, putting his cards face down on the table.  "My leaving you at the altar has nothing to do with the fact that I don't have any eights.. now, go fish!"

Anya snapped her hand out into the center of the table and pulled a card out of the deck.  She sneered at Xander and hid her cards underneath the table before leaning closer to him to respond.

"That's just like you, Harris!  One minute you tell me to go fish, and the next you are trying to reel me in like I am one...  Then, the next minute, you are tossing me back in like I'm too small and un-edible!

Xander blinked a couple of times, his mouth hanging in slack jawed confusion.  It didn't matter how long he had known her.  He knew he was never going to figure out how she always managed to trip him up over the weirdest things.

"Anya...  You aren't too small."

"Oh, so now you're telling me it's because I'm fat!  That's just swell!"

"Ahn!  I didn't say that...  I never said you were fat!"

"Oh, so what?  I'm un-edible then?  There she is!  Boring, old, un-edible Anya!  I can't keep her!"

Anya squealed and threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, but still managed to keep her cards facing away from Xander, who stared at her dumbly, until she was finished.

After clearing his throat, Xander shook his head slowly and asked, "Is there any way I can answer that question that won't end in extreme badness?"

"Oh, you...  You evasive, confusing man!"  Anya put her hands back in her lap and slumped in her chair.  "What is so hard about answering a simple question?"

"And what question would that be, I wonder?"  Spike asked as he sauntered through the kitchen.

He pulled a bag of blood out of the fridge and began pouring it in a mug.  After popping it into the microwave and starting it, he turned to face the two people at the table, leaning back against the counter.

"Let's ask Spike what he thinks!"  Anya hissed, and turned quickly, not noticing the dark clouds that settled in Xander's eyes at her suggestion.

"Xander thinks that I am fat and un-edible!"  Anya stated bluntly.  "Do you?"

If it were possible, one would think that Spike had suddenly turned a whiter shade of pale.  But, he stared into her eyes stoically, before turning his own to meet Xander's steely
glare, which clearly had warning written all over it.

*Ping!*

"Well!"  Spike turned and pulled the mug out of the microwave.  As he turned back around, he held it up, already making his exit, and said, "Dinner's done!  I think I'll be goin' now!  Enjoy your fat... uh... chat!"


'Stupid bloody git!'  Spike cursed to himself, as he made his way into the living room.

'Enjoy your fat!...  Bloody hell!'

He sat down in one of the recliners and tried to tune out the still raging argument.

'Walked right into that one, mate.'  He thought.

He closed his eyes and drank down half of the warm blood from the mug.

Buffy was out on patrol.  He had wanted to go along with her, but she had been doing her best to avoid him for a couple of weeks now.  He had considered tagging along behind her
anyway, but since she had opted to take the witch along, he figured he was best off to just stay here.  It wasn't like he could get her to open up and talk to him in front of her friends, anyway.

Things had been different between several of them, since his showdown with Wood.  Since discovering Spike's trigger was still active, the potentials' general fear and unease of
Spike had risen greatly.  He didn't mind that so much, because he felt that it was probably in their best interest to maintain that frame of mind around any vampire.  But, it did require him to keep a more watchful eye with them.  Especially around Kennedy.

Although no one had told Spike anything in particular, it was plain to see that she and Willow were no longer nesting, and her already overbearing nature had been set on overkill.  She may not be anything more than a normal girl, right now, but he wouldn't put it past her to pull a vigilante stunt and try to dust him in his sleep.

On the other hand, however, since discovering that their plan to kill Spike had actually de-activated Spike's trigger, Giles had fallen back into his begrudging acceptance of Spike's residence in the Summers' home.  An opinion that, at this point, no longer mattered either way to Spike.

Things had been strained, at best.  Which brought his thoughts back around to Buffy.  Not since before he had left, had things been so awkward between them.  It was as if she was trying to pretend he didn't exist.  'And, although he didn't think he would admit it to anyone, even if he thought anyone would care, it hurt.

'What does she think?'  He wondered.  'That I was trying to start something?  She came to me, not the other way around!  An' what?  She kisses me, thinkin' I didn't even know it, and then gives me the ol' spanish archer every time I enter the room, as if I'm not even worth a word?'

Spike drank down the remaining blood and was going to take it into the kitchen to rinse it out, but thought the better of it, as he remembered that Xander and Anya were still there, and he most certainly wouldn't escape as easily, his next time through.  He set it on the table beside him, for the moment, instead, and leaned back in the chair.

'I'll never understand women.'  He thought, and then something caught his eye outside.

A shadow passed in front of the window, and after its passing through the dim light of the street lamp, he could see something else, out farther, by the street.

Spike got up from his chair, and approached the window.  Upon looking out from behind the curtains he saw several bringers in the yard, and further away, Andrew.  He was dangling in the air, held by the throat, in the clutches of one of those blasted uber-vamps.

'Son of a bitch!'  Spike cursed, grabbing something out of the coat closet and heading outside.

That something happened to be a battle-axe.  'If nothing else can be said about living with a slayer,' he thought, 'at least weapons are never far away.'

The bringers sensed him, the moment he stepped out the door; two of them coming from either side, like they had been waiting for him.

Spike swung the axe in a large arc, severing an arm from the bringer at his right, and becameembedded in the chest of the other on his left.  With a hard kick, Spike dislodged the axe, sending the already dead bringer to the ground, and continued marching through the yard, cutting a swath through the dozen or so other bringers that seemed to leap out of nowhere, leaving a trail of corpses and blood in his wake as he made his way toward the street.

Andrew was holding on to the wrist of the monster that was holding him up, trying desperately to remain conscious.  His feet were instinctively kicking in a vain attempt to find some sort of leverage.  This thing was female, and it was playing with him.  The monstrous thing snarled, grinning up at him, its lips skinned back to reveal her darkened, jagged teeth, and sent a wave of its putrid breath through the space between them.

Andrew gagged, thinking that if her death grip on his neck didn't kill him, her breath certainly would.  It squeezed a little tighter now, sending sparks and black spots to float in front of his vision.  He was vaguely aware of some commotion coming from the yard, but couldn't have turned to look or call for help if he tried.  The creature peered closer into Andrew's face and curled its lips up into a jack-o-lantern's grin.  A low purring noise came up from its throat.

Its grip began to tighten again, slowly, and Andrew knew that this was it; this would be the way he would die.  Then he heard a voice call out from behind him.

'Lo, Bitch!'

Andrew dropped to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.  He struggled to get up, but couldn't get past his knees, so he just lay there, instead, turning to see who his rescuer was.

Spike was standing under the street light with the battle-axe slung casually over his left shoulder.  He was spattered from head to toe with the blood and gore of the bodies which were scattered in the yard behind him.  His trademark smirk was firmly in place, and his duster was floating out behind him in the breeze.  To Andrew, he looked like a dark, striking hero straight from one of his Hellsing comic books.

Spike extended his free arm, curving his hand up to wave his fingers in a come-hither motion, as he slid into game face.

"Come to Daddy!"

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan




Later, back inside...


"Oh, you guys should have seen it!  It was so cool!"

Everyone was in the kitchen, listening to Andrew tell the tale of what had happened to him.

"I was taking out the trash, because I'm very responsible, that way, when I got this feeling that someone was watching me!  But, like, I didn't want whatever it was to know that I knew, you know?  So, I played it cool...  Just waiting for my chance to- OWCH!"

Willow smiled up at Andrew, apologetically, from her position on the floor, as she finished putting a bandage on one of his skinned knees.  She hadn't meant to press too hard...  Really!

Looking around at all the faces that surrounded him, Andrew began to tell his tale again, when he noticed that most - if not all - of those faces already held looks of disbelief.

"Bollocks."

Spike's half whispered curse drew Andrew's attention to the battered, and now shirtless vampire, who was seated across the table from him.  His left shoulder was a mass of bubbles from the peroxide Buffy had poured over it.  Anya was standing to Spike's right, wrapping gauze around his bandaged forearm.

After staring a little too long, Andrew pouted and gave in.

"Oh, fine!"  He exclaimed.  "I just didn't want to sound like such a nerd."

"Oh, but that's ok!"  Anya nodded her head, enthusiastically.  "Because, you are a nerd."

"Thanks...  I guess."

Andrew frowned, and began to re-tell his story.  As he got to the part where the uber-vamp had dropped him, his eyes glazed over, dreamily, and his voice took on a note of excitement.  He began gushing like a girl.  A very raspy girl.


*  *  *  *  *


One hour earlier...


"Come to Daddy."

Having dropped Andrew, the uber-vamp now faced Spike and snarled, threateningly.

"Boy..."

Spike addressed Andrew, his eyes never leaving those of the creature he intended to kill.

"Get out of the way."

But Andrew didn't.  He crouched, frozen in place by either shock or pain, or both.  His mouth worked as if trying to say something that wouldn't come out before the creature solved the problem for them.  Spike watched as she kicked Andrew viciously, sending him rolling several feet away, to land in the gutter behind him.  She moved no closer to Spike, but within her thunderous growls, he thought he could hear something very much like laughter.

"Kicked him to the curb, did you?  For me?"  Spike asked.  "I'm flattered.  So, what are you waiting for?  Let's dance."

Spike strode the last few feet between himself and his target, swinging the axe swiftly at her neck, but the uber-vamp was quicker.

She ducked the swing with lightening speed, and responded by reaching up to wrench the axe out of Spike's grasp while delivering a kick that swept his legs out from under him.  Spike hit the ground hard and barely avoided being stomped, rolling out of the way, just in time, before her foot came down where his head had been.

"Leaping back to his feet, and putting some distance between the two of them once again, Spike taunted,  "Just like a woman!  Always kickin' a fella, when he's down!"

He realized, almost too late, that he hadn't backed up quite far enough, as the battle-axe swung down across his chest.  Spike leaped back, bringing his arms around him as it passed, slicing through the sleeve of his duster, and leaving a lengthwise gash in the arm underneath.

Without leaving any time for reaction, the uber-vamp pursued him, continuing to back Spike down the sidewalk as it lunged, hacked, and swung the axe wildly, until finally, as if bored, she tossed it to the ground.  Grinning, she assumed Spike's previous cocky stance and gesture, daring him to come forward.

Spike was more than happy to oblige her.

With a feral roar of his own, Spike charged full speed into the ancient vampire.  The two collided in a whirlwind
of fists, claws, and fangs, neither one noticing Andrew, who had managed to pull himself together enough to slink away to watch from behind the bushes that lined the driveway.

"That's it, Spike!"  Andrew whispered.  "Kick that bitch's prehistoric ass!"

Andrew's hero worship of Spike was so firmly rooted that he had no doubt in his mind that Spike would prevail.

As Andrew looked on from his hiding place, Spike landed several powerful punches and kicks to the creature, sending her staggering backwards several steps, in a haphazard re-enactment of Spike's own hasty shuffle from moments ago.

Spike's amber eyes were glittering with fierce determination.  His hoarse laughter echoed darkly through the crisp evening air, fangs gleaming wickedly under the illumination of the street light above as he reveled in the freedom that came with a good fight -- the violent abandon that comes with unleashing his demon to take full reign.

Andrew had no doubt in his mind that Spike would prevail...  Until now.

As Spike turned to deliver a round-house to the monster's midsection, she stepped to one side, reached out and snagged the end of his duster and yanked upwards. Hard.

Spike's own twisting momentum, combined with the force of the uber-vamps pull caused a spinning reaction, bringing him up into the air, and as his arms tore loose from the sleeves of his duster, crashing back down the pavement with a bone-jarring crunch.

Momentarily dazed, Spike shook his head and attempted to stand.  His frustrated growls seemed to vibrate through the cement blending with another similar sound coming from above him.  Only, the uber-vamp wasn't growling.  She was purring again.

Confident in her defeat of the lesser vamp, she grasped him with her claws and pulled him up by his upper arms, pinning them to his body.

Refusing to accept defeat, Spike kicked out at her, landing several blows, which proved ineffectual at such close proximity.  In a lazy fashion, which showed how certain she was that she could now take her time, she brought her head down to his left shoulder, with jaws gaping wide, and drove her fangs home.

Andrew gasped as Spike's roar of fury and anguish pierced the night.  He wished that there was something he could do to help.  But what? He spotted the battle-axe lying on the ground, but it was so close to them, there was no way he was going to be able to reach it without being spotted.  And he was afraid that even if he could, he wouldn't be able to hit the uber-bitch without hitting Spike, too.  He had never before felt as helpless as he did at that moment.

"I hear you already!"  Spike cried out, suddenly, looking somewhere past the uber-vamp that held him.  The uber-vamp that was, now setting Spike back down, almost gently.

"Alright, alright!  I get it!"  Spike barked, still looking out past the ancient vampire.

Andrew felt a rush of relief, mixed with confusion.  It looked as though the thing had changed her mind, and was going to let Spike go.  But, why would it want to?  And, Spike appeared to be talking to something that Andrew couldn't see.

Spike took a moment to brace himself before stepping to the side and picking up the axe.  The creature made no move to stop him, and Spike seemed quite comfortable turning his back to her.  He, like-wise, seemed to have lost the desire to fight her.  Instead, Spike lifted his head up toward the stars, closed his eyes and sniffed the air, much like a hound on the hunt.

Andrew's mixed emotional dial stopped dead on fear as Spike's eyes snapped open and fixed themselves right in his direction and said, "I understand.  It's time."

Spike began heading straight for Andrew, with the uber-vamp following closely behind him.  Andrew tried to flee, but was no match for Spike's vampiric speed.  He caught Andrew by his already injured throat, and pulled him in.

Andrew had lost all hope for the second time this evening.  He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and waited for the inevitable.  Instead, he found himself being thrown back towards the bushes he had just fled, and watched in shock as Spike whirled around, suddenly, the axe whistling through the air from the force, and neatly decapitated the un-suspecting uber-vamp.  She dissolved into ash before her head ever reached the ground.

Stunned, Andrew turned his wide eyes back to Spike who was now in human guise.  He cast Andrew a brief apologetic glance before turning his attention back to the invisible entity that Andrew knew could be none other than The First.

"I'm not your toy to break, anymore, you poncy, ineffectual sod!"

Spike dropped the axe to the ground, and pointed into seemingly empty air.

"You aren't her."  He said, sternly.  "and you can't have her."

He pointed to himself and continued, saying, "Slayer of slayers here, remember?  Her death is mine.  An' if I'm not takin' it, I'm sure as hell not goin' to turn it over to the likes of you...  *From beneath you, it devours!*"  Spike sneered.  "You've got that part right, at least.  You are beneath her."

Spike paced back to the sidewalk, picking up his duster, before returning to the driveway to help a still silent and shocked Andrew to his feet.  He pulled him along behind him, as he reached the axe and picked it up also, and thrust it into Andrew's arms, turning back to face the being that only he could see.

"Of course, I s'pose it's fitting that you come to visit me lookin' this way.  Keep it up.  I might just get me another good day, after all."

He turned toward the house, then, pushing Andrew along, in front of him.  He never looked back to see The First brooding, with arms crossed, still in Buffy's form, as he called back tauntingly,

"I will end you, Slayer!"


*  *  *  *  *


Back to the present...

"And I thought I was a goner!"  Andrew went on.  "But, Spike was playing a trick on The First and the next thing you know, *Whack!*  Spike cut off that ugly chick's head and she was dust in the wind!  Spike
totally had them fooled!  He was awesome!"


Andrew was all set to continue, but, much to Spike's relief, Buffy chose this time to cut in.

"So, what you are saying, is that even without the trigger, The First still has a yen for Spike's help?"

Buffy had come home with Willow and the potentials only moments after Spike and Andrew had gone back inside.  It took all of her willpower not to break into an all-out panic as they waded through the bloodbath that had once been her neatly arranged front yard.

Once inside, and finding that everyone was alive, she was all about business.  As far as she knew, Willow and Giles had not learned anything new about how to boost her slayer abilities.  But, if The First was going to start sending these vampires and bringers to her home, and was trying once more, to find a way to bring Spike over for its use, time was running out.

"'Think that about sums it up, Pet."

Spike answered her question for her, instead of Andrew.

"Although," he added, "I do believe that Miss Coyote Ugly would have settled just fine with having Andrew as a snack, had I not come along."

Andrew squirmed in his seat, uncomfortably, at the thought.

Buffy turned to Willow, imploring with her eyes.

"Will...  Have you?-"

Willow shook her head.

"No.  I've checked out everything, everywhere I could imagine.  Every time I think I've got something, I reach a dead end.  I'm sorry, Buffy...  But, I know there has to be another way.  We'll think of something."

"We don't have time to think of something."  Buffy told her.  "I need to do something now.  I can't keep worrying, every time I walk out that door.  They aren't waiting for us to venture out so that we can be picked off one by one anymore.  They are taking the fight *to* us!

"Are you?...  Are you talking about finding the slayer-demon thingy?"  Andrew asked, quietly.

All eyes turned to Andrew, suspicious curiosity held in those of Willow, Buffy and Spike.

"I...  might have...  overheard you guys talking about it...  sometime before."  Andrew stated, shrugging sheepishly.

"Yeah."  Buffy nodded.  She wasn't surprised to know that he had eavesdropped.  "We are."

"Well, why don't you just go back through the portal and tell those voo-doo guys that you realize they are right?"  Andrew asked.

"Because," Willow began, rolling her eyes, "Buffy beat them up."

Willow nodded at Buffy, who flushed and turned her eyes to the floor.

"They won't work with her now.  The book said that once the gift is refused, it won't be offered again until the next slayer is called."

"Well, so?"  Andrew asked, looking from person to person, with an expression that said he couldn't see the problem.  "I mean, you beat those guys once, right?  So, if the power isn't *offered,* why don't you just go back there and take it?"

Andrew brought up his hands in a questioning gesture.

Willow stood there, blinking, as she thought about what Andrew had said.  She looked to Buffy, who looked to Spike, and saw that he was already looking to her, as well.  They all shared the same dumbfounded expression.

'How stupid can I be?'  Buffy thought to herself.

"Let's gather up the stick figures."  She said, turning to head upstairs after the trunk.

"I'm going back in!"

It's Not Enough
.
By: Morrigan




Within minutes, everyone in the house had gathered together in the basement, where Dawn was setting up the shadow puppets.

Buffy had chosen this location in order to reduce the chance of escape for any creature, who happened to cross through the portal after she went through.

Buffy stood in the center of the circle that they had created, and tried to concentrate on calming her nerves.  She didn't know if this was going to work, and although she was firmly convinced that this is what she had to do, a small part of her still rebelled in fear.

She looked around at everyone, starting with a small smile and a nod in Spike's direction, and ending with a pointed sober look to Giles, before turning back to watch her sister as she set the last of the figurines into place.  Check that...  She wasn't nervous.  She was positively terrified, but she was determined not to let it show.

"Ok," Buffy said, as she stepped a little closer to the center of the circle, "Let's do this."

Dawn stood up, and held the book to her chest as she looked into her sister's eyes.  "It's going to be alright," she told Buffy, softly.  Dawn realized that she was saying it more for her own peace of mind than for Buffy's.  But she could see through her sister's facade.  One can only act so tough, after all, before it becomes obvious to anyone who's really looking, that it is, in fact, just an act.

"I know," Buffy replied, and hugged her, briefly, before allowing her to step back among the others.  Once there, Dawn opened the book, nodded to Buffy once more, in assurance, and began to read.

"First, there was the earth..."


* * * * *


The sounds of drums and other sounds filled theroom, just like before.  The fact that it was familiar didn't really make it any less creepy, however.

Dawn continued to read the words as the shadows played out their story on the walls.  A howling wind started up within the basement, strong enough to ruffle their hair and clothes, and Dawn had to raise her voice in order to be heard.

And that wasn't the only difference.

"You can't just look, you have to see," Dawn read, just like before.  But, after a second's pause, she continued, saying, "But you are blind."

The book fell from Dawn's hands, and onto the floor.  Everyone looked to her, in surprise, as she turned her eyes to Buffy.  Dawn's large expressive eyes had been replaced by blazing green orbs of light.

"You deny your true self," Dawn said.  Her words seemed to be blended with another's voice, which sounded as if it were part of the wind that whipped more violently around them.  "So afraid of what you will become...  What you are destined to be..."  Dawn shook her head and stepped closer to Buffy as she finished,  "Who you, Slayer, already are."

Willow noticed that Buffy hadn't moved at all since Dawn had dropped that book.  She was standing so still, in fact, it was as if her body had been frozen in ice.  She shouted Buffy's name, but realized that either she couldn't be heard over the wind and noise, or Buffy was on vacation for the moment.  Fearing for both of the girls, she pulled herself to her feet and began to approach the two of them, the beginnings of a spell coming from her lips.

Spike, who had been standing behind the group, was thinking much the same as Willow, and he began making his way through the group from the other side.

As Spike and Willow reached the outside of the circle, Dawn threw up her hands, pointing to each of them.  "Exsisto sessio!"  She exclaimed, causing them both to drop, instantly, to the floor, along with everyone else standing behind them.  She then waved one hand above her head, chanting a few more words, before standing still, once more.

Xander leaned over Willow's shoulder and asked,  "What the hell was that?"

Willow sat there, stunned, and didn't turn to face him, as she replied,  "She told us to be seated...  And, I think she just put up a barrier to keep us out!"

"Well, bloody do something about it, Red!" Spike shouted to her.  He was struggling to get back on his feet, but to no avail.  He realized that the potentials, and the rest of the group, were just discovering their inability to stand as well, and a rising smell of fear and un-ease began to fill his senses.

"OK, Ok...  I'm working on it!"  She called back.  She closed her eyes in an attempt to tune out the chaos so that she could focus.

A light flashed inside the circle.  The portal had opened.  Buffy saw this; she had seen everything, but she couldn't move.  She couldn't even blink!

"You think yourself strong, but you are weak,"  The thing in Dawn's body said to Buffy, as a black fog began to emerge from the portal.

"Fear clouds your mind with thoughts of losing yourself to the unknown, never allowing you the clarity to understand the truth of your path."

The fog began to swirl and separate, forming into snake-like coils as it surrounded them.

Buffy shook within her paralyzed frame.  She swallowed, and tried to steel herself for the inevitable.  She now recognized the speaker for who and what it was.  The shadow men may have wanted to turn their backs on her, but the demon, itself, had sought her out.

"You are incomplete, as am I."  The voice said.  Buffy had stopped looking at Dawn, staring, instead at the creature who's words her sister spoke.  "You are but one half of a whole, as also, am I,"  It continued.

The spirit began ghosting around her body, as it had done before, when she was in chains.

"A balance, we create,"  It said.  "Apart, we are all but ineffectual..."

The lights in the basement grew brighter.

The demon encased Buffy within its coils and began it's invasion, seemingly with every breath she took.

The basement lights began to flicker.

"Together, we are strong!"

The flickering of the lights grew faster, giving a strobe-lighting effect.

The green light in Dawn's eyes faded, returning them to her normal state, before they rolled back in her head, as she fell, unconscious, to the ground.

"Do you understand, at last?"

Only Buffy heard the last thing the demon said to her as the lights went out, leaving them in blackness.

"We are one."

The spell holding the group vanished along with the lights.  With nothing else to fall back on, panic and confusion, naturally, ensued.

"Fuck!"

"Where is Buffy?"

"Shit, I've got' the wiggins!"

"I can't see anything!"

"Oh, Good Lord..."

"Ok...  Calm down...  There's got to be flashlights down here, right?"

"OW! I stubbed my toe on something!"

"Yeah, that something was me!"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, would everybody just stop scramblin'about for a moment!"  Spike bellowed, loudly, momentarily quieting most of their exclamations.

"You'd think not a one of you have ever been in a blackout before...  It's just a little dark!  Now, before you all go trippin' all over each other, try to remember that I.  Can.  See!"

He had slipped into game-face after his initial curse, so that he could better focus on his surroundings.  He could clearly see Dawn, lying on the floor where she had fallen.  She was moaning softly, and looked as though she were waking up.  But, he didn't see Buffy anywhere.  He stepped around a few of the girls and went to kneel by Dawn's side.

"Red, can't you do a spell to - "

"Already on it."  She answered.  An orange light began to glow from the far side of the room, near the ceiling, giving off a candle-light sort of illumination.

"Little ball of sunshine," she said.  "Don't worry, Spike...  It's too small and far away to dust you.  How is she?"  Willow nodded to Dawn, and then scanned the room behind Spike, as she asked,  "Where's Buffy?"

"She's here somewhere," he said.  "I can feel her."

"Oh, God, my head..."  Dawn sat up slowly, with Spike's assistance, and looked around in the gloom.  "What happened?"

letting his features settle back into their human guise, Spike smoothed his hand through Dawn's auburn hair, and noted to himself that she had quite a big lump, but she would live.

"A whole lot, Little Bit.  And, I'm sure Rupert or one of the Scoobs would love to tell you all about it."

Xander made his way over to them, as Spike said this, and slid an arm around Dawn, letting her lean on him, as he helped her stand.

"I'm goin' to go an' take care of Big Sis, alright?"  Spike winked at Dawn, hoping to hide the worry that was gnawing away in his gut, in hopes that she wouldn't ask any more questions before they got her up those stairs.  He hadn't lied to Willow when he told her that Buffy was still here, but he hadn't shared with any of them the sickening feeling that told him something about her wasn't right.

He waited until Xander had escorted Dawn, Andrew and the potentials out of the basement and into the house, but, Willow and Giles stayed behind.

Spike rolled his eyes to the watcher, as Willow called out Buffy's name and began to head into the darker recesses of the basement.

"Buffy..."  She called, before Spike caught her by the arm.

"Not so fast, Red,"  He said to her, softly,  "She's... skittish."

"What on God's green earth are you talking about, Spike?"  Giles asked him, as he stepped up beside the two.  "Why would Buffy be afraid of us?  We are her friends, after all!"

Spike raised his chin and looked defiantly at the watcher, while biting back a few nasty replies he was itching to make in reply to that statement.

"Friends?"  He whispered.  "Alright, Rupes. Well, if you care about your friend, then - like it or not - you are going to have to trust me for once."  He cast Willow a glance before continuing,  "Red does."

Vampire and Watcher locked eyes for a moment, before Giles finally nodded his agreement.  They were at a truce.  For now.  He fell in beside Willow as they followed Spike further into the basement.

Spike could hear Buffy's heart hammering.  It seemed to get faster with each step they took.  He had to agree with Giles that he didn't quite understand why she seemed to be afraid of them, but it didn't matter, right now.  What did matter, was finding her and making sure she was alright, and helping her to feel safe again.

For all his vampiric senses were worth, there was no way that they could tell him just where he was wrong.  Buffy wasn't afraid for herself.  She was afraid for them.

He heard a tiny noise coming from behind some boxes and turned in that direction.

"Buffy, love?  You alright?"  He asked, as he stepped around to look behind them.

She was curled up in the corner, and upon seeing her, Spike froze in place, unsure of what to do next.  Willow looked around Spike and put her hand over her mouth as she gasped.  Squeezing in behind them both, Giles also found that he had no words for what he saw.

Spike swallowed and tried his best to look as non-threatening as possible, as Buffy's angry glowing eyes locked with his, and she began to growl.

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan



Buffy's eyes flickered from face to face, warily, as they stared down at her.

After the lights had gone out and she could move again, all she wanted to do was run and hide.  All of a sudden, everything was so loud, and after Willow had cast her sunlight spell, things looked unusually harsh, even where she had retreated into the shadows.

She realized her actions didn't make any sense.  Her friends were worried about her, that was all. She knew also, that she should have been worried about Dawn, but she wasn't.  She wasn't sure how, but somehow, she knew her sister was fine.  It was like she could feel her.

It was like she could feel all of them, and it was too much for her to deal with, all at once.

She had listened to them calling and searching for her, and part of her wanted to answer them.  To just shake off her nerves and step out and let them know she was alright.  But, she found herself conflicted.

Although she could feel them, they couldn't feel her.  She suddenly felt quite different from her friends.  Foreign.  Alone.

And, in light of what had just happened to her and the weird sensations she was feeling, she wasn't at all sure if she should trust herself around them just yet.

But there was something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.  And that something had to do with Spike.  The signature tingles that his presence always provoked had changed. They were stronger, but there was something else about them...  Something that she was certain, had to be wrong...

And as her eyes met his, every nerve in her body ignited as though it were on fire.

"Buffy?  Love, are you alright?"  He asked her.

Buffy heard something growl and was shocked as she realized that the sound was coming from her!  'Oh God, Oh God,'  She thought, over and over.  'Why am I growling?  How am I growling?  I'm not supposed to be growling!'

A large part of her wanted to leap out from her corner and tear Spike into pieces.  He was a vampire, and shouldn't be allowed to live.  It was her calling to rid the world of his kind!  But another part of her was horrified at the thought.  He was her friend, and he had a soul, and he said he loved her!

No, she knew he loved her.  Not only, anymore, because he had told her, but because she could see it all around him as he looked at her.  And damn it if she didn't growl louder as she thought of this!  'What in the hell is wrong with me!?'  Her mind shouted.

Buffy decided that she had lost her mind, and she needed to get out of here now, before she hurt somebody.

"Spike?"  Willow whispered, from behind him.  "Spike... her eyes...  They look like...  Yours...  When you're all fangy!"

"No, they don't."  Spike lied, never taking his eyes off of Buffy's, as she fidgeted in her crouched position.  The color excluded, that is exactly what they looked like.  But he was damned if he was going to say so out loud.  As it was, Buffy looked ready to bolt at any moment.

Spike hoped that the two behind him would catch on to his lie and the reason behind it and not say anything else, especially about -


- "My God, Buffy your teeth!"  Giles exclaimed.

'Oh, Balls!'  Spike cursed, mentally, wishing that he could snap the man's neck for his lack of restraint, as he watched Buffy recoil, as though struck, at his words.

Her growls ceased as she ducked her head, bringing her hands to her face.  He couldn't see what she was doing, but he didn't have to.  He knew she was checking to see what Giles was talking about.

Buffy peered back up at them, through her hair, which had fallen around her face, her glittering eyes filled with confusion and pain.  Spike felt a deep aching pull of empathy toward her that left him bewildered, because the emotion came from his demon, not his soul.

He knew he had to get these wankers out of here so he could try to coax her out, himself.  He realized that there was a level of danger in this line of thinking, because his senses that recognized a slayer were nearly screaming, but these bastards with their big mouths were hurting her. Unintentionally, but hurting her, all the same.  And dangerous or not, seeing her in pain tore at him.

He didn't get the chance though, because just as he opened his mouth to suggest that they leave, he heard a low anguished cry came from the corner, and he found himself falling backwards, with an armful of freaked out slayer on top of him.

Spitting like a cat and struggling against him, Spike realized that he had gripped on to her, during his fall.  He quickly relinquished his hold on her, holding his hands up in resignation as she hissed, revealing her small but fairly impressive fangs, before leaping off of him, streaking up the stairs and out the door.  Her exit was immediately followed by a few shocked exclamations from the other people upstairs, and another slam, which signaled Buffy's departure from the house.

Spike lay on the floor for a moment, with his eyes closed, struggling to reign in his anger at Willow and Giles, before he attempted to sit up.  When he finally did, it was Willow he fixed his stare on first.  She was pulling herself up from the floor, as well, sniffing back tears and shaking.  Next, he turned to his other side to see Giles, pulling himself to his feet and wiping his glasses.

"Well, I hope the two of you are proud of yourselves."  Spike said to them.  "You did a right proper job of scaring her off.  I guess we should consider ourselves lucky that she didn't decide to kill us, first!"


* * * * *


Buffy was running.  Her shoes seemed to barely touch the pavement as she flew down the street.

When she came to a park, she slowed down to a stop and took a seat on one of the swings, turning her tear streaked face to the sky.

'Ok,' she thought, 'Buffy, you need to snap out of it.  This is what you asked for...  So what if you have a few extra bonuses you weren't expecting?'

But the truth was, she figured that if she changed - no matter how different she became - she would feel more powerful.  But she didn't.  All she felt was afraid.  She did this so that neither she, or anyone else would have to be afraid anymore.  Now, she wasn't just scared, she was scared of herself!


Every thought she had was challenged by another that seemed to come from someone else.  She supposed that must be the slayer demon.  Great...  Did that mean she wast going to start talking about different aspects of herself in the third person like Spike sometimes does?  Cause, that would be really un-cool.

She pictured herself in the mall, screaming out,  "Oh God, my demon just HAS to have that pair of boots for our new patrolling ensemble!"

She shook her head and stuck out her tongue in disgust...  And noticed that the fangs were gone.

"Oh woah!"  She whispered.  She pulled her compact mirror from her pocket and looked at her reflection.  She didn't look any different than she would have earlier today.

She felt herself beginning to calm down.  It was nice out here.  No one around to worry about, pretty stars, nice breeze.  And, she did feel pretty juiced.  She felt like she had an endless supply of energy to burn.  She had all sorts of questions, but she figured that she would have to get the answers through time and experience, because the demon didn't seem to have come with a handbook of some sort.

But, just as she thought she could relax, she felt those tingles again.  Familiar ones.

'Damn it, I should have ran further!'  She thought, just as Spike appeared from the other side of the park.  Buffy's fingers wrapped in the chains of the swing, as her mind, demon, and emotions began their inner turmoil again.

"I think you ought to stay back, Spike."  She warned him.  "I need to be alone for a while."

Spike nodded his head, and sidled up to a rocking pig toy and sat on it.  Buffy found herself wanting to grin at the comical picture that was, but caught herself before she did.

'Kill him!'  Her demon hissed.

'No!'  Her other side argued.  'He has a soul!  He's one of us!'

"Thought I might find you here."  Spike said softly, from across the sand, as he lit up a smoke.  Buffy found that she had no trouble hearing him, even from their considerable distance to each other.

"Why?"  She asked, her voice even quieter than his.  She knew he would hear her.

"Because."  Spike shrugged and took another pull on his cigarette before continuing.  "Just did,"  He whispered, shrugging again.  He hooked his feet in the stirrups of the playground toy, and propped his elbows on his knees.

Buffy lowered her eyes and squinted across the sand, at Spike.  She could tell that he was testing her.  Lowering his voice more and more, to see if she could hear him. That was SO like him!  She herself, had been surprised to find that she could, but that didn't mean he had the right to play with her like that!

'See?'  Her demon pointed out,  'Evil!'

'Oh stop it!'  She countered back.  'That's not evil... just curious... and annoying!'

Buffy watched as said annoying vampire bounced a little on the playground pig, as if bored.

"A bit scary, inn'it?"  Spike asked her, suddenly.

"Is what scary?"  She countered.

Spike gave her a knowing look and tossed his cigarette to the side before he answered.

"The intensity of everything.  The sights, the sounds...  The vibes."  He ran his fingers down the back of his neck, and nodded at her.

Buffy knew exactly what he meant.  He knew her slayer senses were going ape-shit over his being here.  She didnt know whether to be angry with him for being a mister smarty pants, or to be thankful that he was keeping a respectful distance.  But, she knew that wouldn't last.  Why else would he be here, if he didn't plan to bring her back home with him?

Spike dropped his hand back down to rest on the other one and continued speaking, in a conversational manner.

"You get used to it, you know."  He nodded and offered her a barely there smile.  "And, if it helps any, you're giving off quite the buzz, yourself, right now."  He shivered, dramatically, poking fun of his own case of *warning* nerves.

"You don't know anything about what I'm going through."  Buffy pouted and pushed herself back lightly on the swing.  She didn't really like the idea of her feelings being compared to those of a vamp.  Denial was much more pleasant.

"No?"  Spike asked her, as he hopped off of the pig to sit cross legged in the sand in front of it.  "Well, let me take a few guesses, and you tell me if I'm close, fair enough?"

Buffy continued to pout, but nodded silently.

"I figure a slayer's demon is pretty similar to a vamp's, Pet.  What better way to catch an enemy than to know one?  What better way to know one, than to be quite a bit like one?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed and glowed at Spike at the comparison, but he held up his hand, beckoning her to wait and let him have his say.

"I already know you hear better.  I know from your reaction to me that your senses are sharper.  I'm willing to bet, with your eyes lookin' like that, you see a hell of a lot better out here than you used to."  He stopped and looked a little puzzled before adding,  "I don't rightly know what the fangs are for, in your case, but if it makes you feel any better, they look good on you!"  He flashed her a wry grin and raised his brows comically, hoping to lighten the mood.

Buffy had covered her mouth again, self consciously.  Once he had finished, she said,  "I don't have any, right now.  And I don't think any of this is funny."

"No, it's not.  But you haven't denied anything I've said, Pet,"  Spike noted, rising to his feet and taking a few tentative steps closer.  "Tell you what...  I've got more to worry about than you do, at this point...  Let's say I come over there, and we'll just sit down and chat for a bit?  I won't try an' touch you.  Separate swings an' all that."  He nodded toward the empty swing beside her.  "We'll just talk.  Let the vibes settle down a little."

Taking Buffy's silence as consent, Spike began, slowly, to cross the space between them, only to stop a few short feet away when Buffy shook her head.

"I don't think you want to do that, Spike."  She told him, her voice serious.

"An, why wouldn't I?"  He asked.

Buffy felt herself struggling to stay still. So many things were going on inside that she couldn't seem to control.  Instinct was battling with reason and there was still that other something...  This possessive sort of... something that didn't make any sense, fighting and struggling against the other two.

"Because, Spike," she began, her eyes hollow and pained,  "I think I might hurt you."

Spike cocked his head and blinked at her.  He inwardly chastised himself for feeling hurt by this.  After all, all these enhanced powers were new to her.  Not that he would tell her so, but he figured that, to her, not killing him was about as difficult as it would be for a fledgling vamp to refuse blood.  He had hoped that her spirit would overpower her instincts, but he could see that she was having a hard time with it.

Swallowing the lump he felt rising in his throat, he concentrated on pushing his emotions on the matter to the side, as he asked,  "Do you *want* to kill me, Buffy?"

Buffy blinked back her tears as she pushed away from the swing and took a couple of steps away from him.

"No," she answered, shaking her head,  "But I might."

Spike could only stand there and watch as she turned and fled, once again, into the night.

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan



"What happened?  What's wrong with my sister?"

Dawn's question was the first thing that greeted Willow and Giles as they stepped through the doorway and into the main house.  With Xander's assistance, she was walking towards them from the direction of the open front door.  Behind her the rest of the household, all shared similar looks of worry and confusion.

"Well, Dawn, it seems as if Buffy is dealing with a bit more of a... um, transformation than we had anticipated."  As he was saying this, Giles had removed his glasses, wiping them furiously as he glanced nervously around the room.

"Like, what kind of changes are we talking about that would cause her to run out of the house like that, with Dead-Boy, Junior on her heels?"  Xander asked, his brow creased with concern.  Isn't that scenario supposed to be the other way around?"

Willow was wringing her hands and looking back and forth from Giles to Xander and the rest of the group as she answered him.  "Spike was...  Spike is going to bring her back.  She's just...  She needed to take a..."

Willow dropped her hands, closed her eyes, and let out a deep sigh of frustration, before meeting Xander's eyes again.  "She freaked out on us.  All of us."  Turning her eyes to Dawn, she said, "She's really different, Dawnie.  She looks like-"

"A Vampire."  Giles had finished cleaning his glasses, and had walked past Willow to stand directly in front of Dawn.  "But, she's not, Dawn.  She's still your sister.  We'll get her back, and-"

"You mean Spike will get her back, don't you?"  Dawn interjected.  "I mean, he is the only old British guy she can really trust, around here, right?"

Dawn had her hand on her hip, and had managed to strike a quite challenging pose, despite her shaky disposition, and tear-filled eyes.  She turned her chin up, challengingly, to the older man, and her eyes met his with willful determination as she made her point.

A point that Giles understood, quite clearly.  He was well aware that he would be spending quite a bit of time trying to earn back the trust he had lost with Buffy.  He just hadn't realized, until this very moment, how much of it had been lost with Dawn, as well.

He was saddened by this realization, but it also brought with it an understanding of how much the two girls had begun to confide and trust in each other, which in turn, brought forth a strong desire to make her understand just where he was coming from.  Maybe, if he could make Dawn see the truth of things, he would have an easier time convincing her sister.

"Now, Dawn," Giles began, softly, "You know that isn't exactly right."

Before Dawn could reply, Anya appeared behind her, and stated, bluntly,  "Yes it is."

While Giles blinked at her in surprise, Xander turned to his ex-fiance, in irritation.  "Now, Ahn, Honey...  I don't think you should be getting involved here.  This isn't the time for a female solidarity moment."

"Don't you *Honey* me, Xander!"  Anya turned on him, eyes flaring with indignation.  "I haven't been your Honey, or anything else for that matter, in a long, long time!  And, I think it's a perfect time for female solidarity, I'll have you know, because Dawn's right.

"Anya, I understand that what Giles did probably wasn't the best way to get things done, but his intentions were for the best!  I mean...  What?  Wait a minute, are you actually going to stand here, and argue over Spike?"  Xander shot back at her.

"Not over Spike, Xander."  She stated, matter of factly.  "Over what Giles did to Buffy.  And  Spike."  Anya glanced back to the watcher, before turning back to meet Xander's stare.  "He isn't very trust-worthy, right now."

Xander's eyes burned into hers in barely restrained fury as he fought to keep his temper under control.  This was not a conversation he ever intended to have with Anya, and yet it seemed, lately, as if it were one that she was just as determined to force them to have.

"Oh yeah?"  He hissed through gritted teeth.  "And you are telling me that Spike is?"

"Yes, Xander."  Anya replied, cooly. "That is exactly what I am saying."

And Xander's control snapped.

"Well, this is just fuckin' great!  I can't believe you are standing here, defending the Evil Un-dead, while Buffy is out there dealing with God only knows what!  What's the matter, Ahn?  You didn't get enough of him the first time around?  Newsflash!  He isn't here for you to impress!  He's too busy stalking Buffy to ever notice or care about you!"

Xander laughed, a dry, sarcastic chuckle curling the corners of his mouth into a sadistic grin, as he drew his conclusion.

"He used you, Anya.  That's what Spike does.  He feeds off of people.  Weak.  Vulnerable.  Easy people.  Like you."

As if a shroud of quiet had descended upon them all, silence hung heavy in the air as Anya caught her breath and stepped back.  Her eyes glistened with hurt at the cruel implication of his words.  And then, slowly, the hurt was replaced by the indignant rage of an insulted, pissed off ex-demon with a need for vengeance.  She stepped back up to him, her jaw clenched tight, her arm coming out in a graceful backhanded arc..."

And meeting nothing.

Xander's face did not share the same experience, however, as he found himself staggering back several steps as a much quicker, heavier fist connected with it.

Under the guilt of his recent betrayal, and the pressure and strain of their current dire situation, combined with his charge's new terrifying condition and disappearance, Xander's careless assault on this brave woman, who's only crime had been to dare and speak her mind, had shredded the last of the watcher's already frayed nerves.  For the moment, at least, Ripper was back.

Clutching his jaw, Xander was acutely aware of a ringing in his ears, just before Giles grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him, viciously into the wall.  It sounded kind of like the phone.

"How dare you speak to her in that manner?  The woman, you still claim to love?  You spineless, quivering scrap of filth!"  Giles spat, his face only inches away from Xander's shocked and bewildered expression.  "My personal feelings aside, it is no wonder to me why Anya turned to Spike for comfort after you abandoned her.  After all, even he is more endowed with the proper knowledge of how to treat a lady, than yourself."

Giles' sneer became a smile, as he released Xander and stepped away.  "It's a pity for you, Xander.  But, most fortunate for Anya, I believe, that you made the decision that you did.  You don't deserve a woman like her.  In fact, I don't believe you ever did."

For once, Xander had nothing to say.  Giles' unexpected attack had knocked the fight right out of him and left him feeling very much like a scolded bully.  He struggled to regain his composure, looking past the retreating man's shoulder to meet the hurt, but strangely triumphant gaze of his former love.

"Anya," he stammered, his eyes pleading with her.  "Anya, I'm sorry...  I don't know what came over me!  I-"

But Anya was already walking away.  "Stick it, Harris!"  She called back over her shoulder, as she exited the room.

Giles had returned to where Dawn was still standing.  Suddenly, the thought of trying to win her over to his way of thinking didn't seem so important anymore.  Truth be told, he wasn't even certain that he, himself, believed in his previous actions, at this point.  Rubbing his temples, he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before addressing her.

"Dawn.  I'm sorry.  I realize that my actions over the last few weeks have been less than forthcoming, and you have every reason in the world not to trust me, because of this. But, I assure you...  For whatever it is worth, that my actions were only out of concern for your sister's best interests...  For all of our best interests.  But, I am willing to admit, that I was wrong to take matters into my own hands.

"You bet your ass you were."  Came Dawn's reply.  She had dropped her defensive posturing, but her anger with him was still very clear in her tone.

"We trusted you."  Dawn said to him.  "Buffy trusted you.  And you betrayed her!  You have been like a father to us for all these years, and after Mom died, you kept telling her over and over that she needed to trust herself, that you believed in her to make the right decisions.  But the very first time she takes a stand for something, you tried to take it from her!"

Giles looked to the ground as the truth of her words found their mark.  He said nothing as Dawn continued to speak.

"My sister put her faith and her life in your hands, and you taught what it meant to be The Slayer. You taught her to trust her instincts, Giles.  To never ignore them, just because someone else disagrees."  Fresh tears made their way down her face as she spoke.  "Buffy believed in you, Giles.  And now, Buffy believes in Spike.  Can't you have the same faith in her that she gave to you?"

"Eghem!"

During all the commotion, no one had noticed, until now, that Willow had been absent from the scene.  She stepped back in, with her hands folded in front of her and looked to Giles, seriously.

"I don't mean to interrupt...  And I know that this is really not the best time for this sort of thing, but I just got a phone call from Fred.  Something has happened, and I need to go to L.A.

Both Dawn and Giles looked at her with incredulous eyes.  "Willow," Giles began, shaking his head, "Can't this wait?  Buffy is still out there, and we still have no idea what is happening to her!"

"I know," she said.  She chewed her lip nervously, before continuing.  "And, I'm really worried about her.  But...  But, I know Spike will bring her back...  And, I think that I may be able to bring back something to help us.  There's too much to explain right now..."

She took Dawn's hand in her own and said, "Buffy's going to be OK.  I'm sure she just got scared, what with the changes and all, and she'll be back in a little while."  Turning back to Giles, she added,  "I'll be back tomorrow night, and we can talk with Buffy and hit the books.  There has to be something written about the changes she is going through.  Maybe now we can find out, once and for all, how to stop The First."

She looked at her watch and mentally calculated what time it would be when she got into L.A.

"I already threw some things together while you guys were, uh...  talking.  I'll explain everything when I get back."

With keys in hand, she opened up the front door and came face to face with the last person she ever expected to see.

Looking as calm and cool as ever, Oz's mouth curled into a quizzical smile as he nodded at Willow's overnight bag and asked, "Hey, Will, where ya goin?"

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan




"Blasted, buggering fuck, Slayer!"  Spike cursed, under his breath before taking a seat on the swing that Buffy had just vacated.

"What ever happened to the good ol' days?  Simpler times when I had no cares other than choosin' which happy meal I wanted to eat, and occasionally killing one of Dru's various slimy demon lovers?  Oh, that's right...  I fell in love with the one woman in all the world destined to destroy me and all of my kind."

Spike fished in his pockets for his smokes.  Pulling one out and lighting it, he took a long drag, exhaling dramatically before he continued.

"Now, she's all about wantin' to save the world, an' I'm sittin' here wishin' I could just save her from herself...  But, I can't even get near her, without settin' off all her blasted bells n' whistles!"

Falling into silence, he took another drag as he gazed out into the starlit night.  It was ironic, really, that she had turned out this way.  He supposed he should have seen it coming.  Even in her natural state, Buffy already possessed many of the same skills and senses as himself.  It only made sense that boosting her demon would further increase those similarities.  He only wished that he had thought of this *before* she had gone through this transition.  Perhaps, if he had, they could have discussed this very possible outcome, and she could have been better prepared to handle it.  But, then, he figured that's why it's said that hindsight is 20/20.

Sighing again, he shook his head.  It was a bit too late to waste time thinking about the what-if's now.  Damage had already been done and he had himself a super slayer to save.  Provided, of course, she didn't stake him first.

'Right then,'  he thought.  'If I were a freshly turned vamp, all alone, burstin at the seams with new energy, naiveté and bloodlust...  Where would I go?'

Well, that was easy.  He would have gone somewhere were he would find easy prey and lots of it.  Like... the alley behind the Bronze.  Stupid teenagers and young adults just wandering about and indulging in little make-out sessions in the dark.  A place like that was so close to their own backyard that they would never even see him coming before they were dinner.

'Ok,' he nodded to himself, 'now, reverse the situation...'

A look of disgust crept over his face as the obvious location dawned on him.  Standing and flicking his smoke out across the sand, he strode out of the park and onto the main road.  Once there, he closed his eyes, tilting his head and searched the breeze.

"Fledglings," he muttered, realizing that his hunch was probably right on the mark. He began walking again, his pace quickening as he followed Buffy's scent which was leading him in the direction of Sunnydale High.


*  *  *  *  *


Somewhere near the outskirts of town, the sounds of pick-axes striking stone and the hissing of blowtorches served as background music for the contemplations of the dark figure
who stood silently in the depths of an old abandoned mine.

His back was turned to the workers, his eyes were distant and far away, appearing to be seeing more than just the darkened walls of earth and stone that he faced.  His hand came up to straighten the collar that he still wore.  The collar of a priest.

It had been quite some time since he had stood at the pulpit.  Oh, he had tried to make people see the truth of their ways, but they never would.  Human beings, as a whole, were like lambs to the slaughter.  They would follow anyone who just pointed the way, but they had no ability to foresee where they would go.

Ah, but this man... .  No, not him.  He was destined for glory, and he was their shepherd.  Not such an easy job in itself, considering their natural ignorance.  But the women...  Oh, the women were the worst of the worst.  Always coming to him, with various excuses.  Claiming to need his guidance, his counsel.  Hogwash!  He knew what they really wanted, those dirty girls.  Whores, every one of them!  For what was a woman, really?  Mindless lures in pretty packages set upon the earth to trap foolish men into willing defiling themselves, partaking of their flesh and plunging into their greedy, hungry orifices which were nothing more than cleverly disguised portals, designed to suck a man into hell!

It wasn't their faults, really, he supposed.  They couldn't help it.  It was just in their nature, just like it's in a black widow's nature to mate and then kill its partner.  But the way he saw it, those suckers were deadly to a man, and he had no problem stomping upon one when he found it.  Why would he suffer a foul, wretched woman to do unto him what he wouldn't allow the spider?

Ah, yes...  He had to be honest.  He had enjoyed ripping the life out of those girls.  Unlike the spiders, they had no idea what they really were.  So, it was his duty to teach them a lesson before he sent them on their way to the afterlife.  After all, there wasn't any reason why death couldn't be an enlightening and educational experience.

Sometimes he missed those days.  They came before he was shown the true path that he was meant to follow.  Before The First evil had seen his works and offered him the opportunity
to be its vessel.  But, alas... even he had his weaknesses.  His own, still human desires that were hard to ignore.

A soft smile played about his face as he looked down upon the young, petite, blond woman, who now lay on the ground before him, her blood pooling at his feet.

Leaning down to look into her glassy, hazel green eyes, he whispered, "Do it again!"

*  *  *  *  *


"Ok, Buffy, you can do this.  You're gonna get some of this juice out of your system, and then go home."

Buffy was standing just in front of the bleachers in the high school football field.  She knew that she couldn't keep running all night long.  She was needed back at the house, and freaking out over the things that were going on with her now was just defeating the whole purpose of taking the upgrade to begin with.  So, falling back on the old tried and true method, she had gone to seek out some slayage.

It seemed like a good plan.  She had gone to the high school because she knew that being that close to the hellmouth for some evil vampire would be as tempting to them as a 95% off sign in the window of Bloomingdale's would be to her.  And, she wasn't wrong.  Her tinglies had hit her before she even reached the school's parking lot, and she had followed them here.

The funny thing was how she was buzzing like a livewire, but she couldn't make out exactly which way to go now.  These feelings were so strong, it was if they were coming from everywhere!  And, she could hear them too.  Yeah...  There were 3 of them, she was sure of it.  But, just like her senses were screaming, her enhanced hearing was giving her more trouble as well.  Everything was so loud, it was more of a distraction than it was a help.

She couldn't find any focus, and fear began to creep it's icy tendrils around her heart, once more.

'How is this going to help me?' She wondered.  'I feel more like a spastic basket case, than a lean, mean, killing machine!'

She could feel her body twitching in anticipation, and found it very hard to keep still.  She figured it was that pesky new demon, trying to make her decisions for her again.  She was going to have to get that under control!

Resisting the urge to head back into the field, she stepped around to the side of the bleachers, and after peering underneath to be sure that nothing was under them, sat down on
the bottom bench.

She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the hushed voices coming from the vamps.  They were moving...  She thought that they sounded much closer now, but the sounds were so clear to begin with, that she found it difficult to tell just how close.  And...  'What was up with the smell, out here?'

Upon opening her eyes, she still didn't see anything...  Until it was too late.

"Well, hey there, cutie!"  A boyish voice piped up from right next to her, on the bench!  'Where in the hell did he come from?!' Came to mind, before a she took a hard blow to the face from the other side.


*  *  *  *  *


By the time Spike had reached the corner block leading to the new high school, he had broken into a dead run.  He was fast regretting letting her get such a head start on him, to begin with.  He'd had time, during his trip here, to get himself worked into a mild state of panic.

Upon being turned, Spike's first feelings were those of power and elation.  He was finally free from the confines of his strict Victorian upbringing.  But, in truth, he was over-confident in his abilities.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, there had been times that, were it not for Dru and his miserable grandsires, he would have been staked due to his brash choices.  He truly believed himself to be invincible and would attack in broad public view, if the fancy struck him.  More than once, he had caused himself and his little dysfunctional family to have to live underground in order to hide from the angry mobs, who's attention he had drawn.

Spike was not worried so much about Buffy getting hurt, originally, as much as he was about her mental state.  She hadn't expressed any excitement or over-confidence in
herself.  She had, instead, expressed sadness at the monster she was afraid she had become, and didn't want to hurt anyone that she cared about.  But, once he was certain she had headed for the high school, he was reminded once again, that The Slayer and himself were much more alike than she would ever like to admit.

If Buffy really was thinking like a new vamp, she had no business being out tonight at all.  She was going to get herself killed.

Following her trail, he sprinted past the school's front gates, heading instead around to the back, where his fears were reaffirmed by the mingled scents of blood, dust and panic
that assaulted his senses.

He spotted her before he reached the gates.  She was near the bleachers, held by either side by two large vamps, while a third advanced upon her.

'Damn it!'  He had failed again!  His slayer was going to die...  But, not this night.  Not like this.

Pushing himself harder than ever before, he wasted no time in fumbling with the latch on the gates, opting instead to smash them open, getting the attention of Buffy's captor's, and
never losing speed as he charged across the field.

'No way, am I gonna fail her again,' he thought.  'I'm goin' to save her scrawny, high and mighty ass!  But, when I'm done, she'll be lucky if I don't kill her myself!'

It's Not Enough

By:  Morrigan



"Hey, Will.  Where you goin?"

Willow stood stock still in the doorway, her eyes fixed in a deadpan stare.  So many thoughts and emotions were whirling around inside of her that she could't find her voice.

'Yay!  Oz is here!  Uh-oh, why is he here?  Why now?  Wait...  What if it's not him?  What if he's dead, and it's The First? No, I would have known if something happened to him...  Wouldn't I?'

Travel bag in hand, Willow reached out her arm as if she meant to hand it to him.  "Oz?"  She questioned, her voice barely above a whisper, before she let go of the bag's handle and let it fall heavily onto his foot.

"Ow!  Hey!"  Oz exclaimed, hopping back and gesturing to his offended foot.  "What was that for?"

Shock, fear and doubt gave way to relief as Willow flung herself into Oz's arms, nearly knocking him off balance, and enveloping him in a powerful bear hug.

"Oh, Oz!  It's You!  It's really you!"

"Well, yeah...  It's...  Really me," Oz responded, awkwardly, while patting Willow on the back.  'Quirky welcome,' he thought.  But then, quirkiness *was* one of the things he always loved about her.

After another squeeze, Willow stepped back with an embarrassed grin and motioned for him to come inside.  After shutting the door behind them, she tucked her hair behind her ears and asked, "So, what brings you here?"

Oz shrugged.  "The winds are changing...  Where else would I be?"

Willow watched as Oz looked around the living room.  His gaze traveled over all the rolled up sleeping bags along with the various weapons peeking out from half zipped travel cases and the stacks of spell and research books piled on the coffee table.

"Slayer-ware slumber party?"  He asked, teasingly, as he turned his attention back to her.

"I know," she replied.  "It's kind of a mess..."

"Willow, is that you?"  Giles called from the kitchen before coming through the doorway with a glass of scotch in hand.  "I must say, that was the quickest L.A. turn-around I have ever heard of!"

Upon spotting the young man at Willow's side, Giles stopped, mid-step and graced him with a surprised half-smile.  "Oh, my!  Oz...  How very good to see you!"

He walked the rest of the way to stand with Oz and Willow and shook Oz's hand, warmly.  "It's been quite a long time!  How have you been?"

"Alright, Man."  Oz replied.  "I've gotta admit though, I've been better.  You?"

Giles nodded his head, and sighed before taking a swig from his tumbler of scotch.  "Much the same, I'm afraid.  A lot has happened since we all saw each other last."

"Yeah," Oz nodded thoughtfully, in return.  "I get that.

Motioning for Willow and Oz to follow him, Giles turned with his now empty scotch glass and began to walk back toward the kitchen to refill it.  He began to speak in a tentative, conversational tone as the two of them came to lean against the counter behind him.

"Actually, Oz...  It's really quite fortuitous that you showed up at this time.  You see, we're in the middle of a situation here, and well...  We could rather use the help.

Both Giles and Willow cast curious glances Oz'sway as they heard him snort and stifle a little laugh.  "A situation, huh?  Well, I guess that's one way to put it."


*  *  *  *  *


'Never thought I'd land here again, so soon,' Spike thought to himself, as he gazed around at the dimly lit lower level of his old crypt.

He had made short work of the three vamps at the school.  So short in fact, that it would have been laughable had Buffy's own life not been at stake.  As things were, their endings were barely worth mentioning. Except for maybe one of them.  The one Spike had seen approaching her, while the other two held her arms.  He had thralled her, something that Spike thought was cheating at best, even under the most ordinary circumstances.  But, to thrall a slayer?  No self respecting vampire would do such a thing!

Well... except for maybe Dru.  But, she was insane.

No, that sorry, pathetic excuse of a demon didn't deserve a quick dusting.  Spike had twisted the git's head clean off like a bottle cap.  It had taken a little more effort, but it left him feeling much more satisfied.

However, when all was said and done, Spike found himself with an unconscious slayer to care for.  As much as he wanted to get her home, he didn't think it would be wise to be seen carrying her all the way back to Revello drive.  For better or worse, it looked like it was time to pay his friend, Clem, a visit and check up on how his old place was holding up.

Fortunately, Clem was still there.  And, his initial happiness at seeing Spike again was just as quickly replaced with concern for the girl Spike held in his arms.

Upon stepping through the door, Spike's first thought was that Clem had fixed the place up quite a bit.  Hospitable as ever, he had been more than willing give up the lower level for the night, offering to kick it upstairs on the sofa in front of the telly, instead.

So now, here they were.

Spike leaned back against the wall and took a long pull on his cigarette as he watched Buffy stir on the bed.  She would be awake soon, and he didn't expect her to be very happy when she realized where she was.

After a time, her eyes fluttered open, and he watched her, from his position on the floor, as she took in her surroundings.

"Mornin', Sunshine," he greeted her, softly.  "Was beginning to think you'd sleep the night away."

"What am I doing in your crypt, Spike?"  She demanded, although weakly, sitting up and turning in his direction to meet his eyes with her own.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Luv.  I suppose you would rather still be in the football field, serving on tap for the three, vampiric stooges?"

Buffy's face twisted into a scowl, as she remembered being held by the two near fledglings, while the third vamp approached her, whispering to her...  She couldn't remember what he had said...

"You saved me," she stated, flatly.  "And, brought me here."

"well, yeah.  Didn't fancy bein' seen carryin' you all over town.  If word got 'round that some half-wit weaklings of the underworld had bested the slayer, every nasty in Sunnyhell would be out tryin' to get the last piece of you."  He shrugged casually as he concluded, "As much as I enjoy a good spot o' violence, I don't think that even I could take on that many demons at once."

Buffy ran her fingers through her hair, and groaned, loudly.  "I don't understand this," she said.  "I was tracking them.  I followed them all the way to the field, and then it was like...  It was like everything just blurred together.  I couldn't make heads or tails out of which sounds were coming from where...  Everything was so loud!"

She paused and shook her head in exasperation.  "And, I have all these...  Feelings and, and compulsions that I don't understand!  Every time I want to do anything, it's like there is something else in there, either giving me the ok, or trying to get me to do something else!  Like...  Like, when you leave the house, and halfway to your destination, this little nagging voice in your head makes you wonder, did I leave the stove on?  And, then you think, of course I didn't!  But, the little voice keeps bugging you, until you finally walk all the way back home, only to find that you did, in fact, turn it off and all you did was waste your time worrying about it, in the first place!"

Spike kept his silence, and just stared at her, one eyebrow raised curiously in response to Buffy's rant.

Widening her eyes and holding her hands up in frustration, she continued.

"It's like that!  You know that you are being stupid, when you go back to the house, because you *always* turn the stove off.  So, eventually, you just learn to ignore the voice, and you forget about it, and do what you have to do.  Cause, you know that home will be there, when you are done.  That's what these feelings are like."

Buffy looked to Spike, expectantly, secure in the fact that she had just explained her dilemma to the best of her comparative abilities, and waited for his response.

"Or," Spike drawled, "You get home, and find that your house, along with several others, has burned to the ground, and your neighbors are pissed as hell."

Buffy blinked, and shook her head.  "I don't think you got what I was saying," she said.

"Oh yeah, I do, Pet."  Spike nodded, and lit another smoke.  "I understand perfectly well.  You, on the other hand, do not."  Spike rose up from the ground and walked over to the bed, no longer caring if it *offended* her, and sat on its edge.

"You see, the little *voice*," he held his fingers up in air quotes, "we are discussing here, is all about your instincts."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Spike held up his hand and continued.  "Now, just two days ago, if you were walkin' along, and your gut told you that some nasty thing was hiding behind something, you would have trusted that instinct, and had yourself a good slay."

"Yeah, but that's different! *So* not like the irrational oven voice!"  Buffy interjected, before Spike gave her *the look* and silenced her.

"Is it?"  Spike asked.  "Or is it that you are trying so hard to rely on your enhanced hearing and sight that you are tuning out your demon?"

"I am NOT a demon!"  Buffy snapped, irritably, and folded her arms across her chest.

"Never said you were, Pet.  But you *are* a slayer.  And, you have always had a bit o' demon in you.  Now, just more so.  Its voice is stronger, so you don't trust it.  But, Buffy...  If you continue to fight it, you are only defeating yourself."

"For example," he rose up and walked around to the end of the bed where she was sitting and stood before her.  Curling his fingers upwards, he gestured, beckoning her to stand as he, himself, took a couple of steps back.

"Come on, Slayer," he coaxed.  "Give me your best shot."

"Spike, No."  Buffy wrinkled her nose and pouted, refusing to get up and take part in whatever little game he thought he was playing.  "I don't want to fight you.  And, you are right in front of me.  I could *so* kick your ass!"

"Uh-huh.  Sure, you could, Luv.  Just like you took care of those big bad fledges on campus a few hours ago.  I'm shakin' in my boots!"  He flashed her his best irritating smirk.

"Oh, so...  What?  Are you going to thrall me, now?"  Buffy asked, with an eye roll, for effect."

"Thrall you?  Pleeze!  Give a bloke some credit, here!  Only a half-wit would see you as enough of a threat to require a thrall, right now!  'Sides, I already told you, I never bothered with learnin' how."

"I'm not a threat?"  Buffy asked, incredulously.  Standing now, she pointed to herself and leaned toward him.  "I'll have you know I most definitely AM a threat!  Slayer, here, remember?!  Just because I got ambushed by a couple of un-dead high school jocks and a wanna-be Dracula doesn't make me any less of a threat!"

Spike grinned at her, openly.  She really was a spitfire.  And she was so ridiculously easy to piss off!

"That right?"  He asked, beckoning her with his hands, again.  "Then prove it."

"I will," Buffy threatened.

"Liar," Spike retorted, tauntingly quirking one brow as his eyes turned gold.

"Shut up!"  She hissed at him, taking one step closer and pointing.

Spike remained in human face, despite the glittering gold of his eyes.  He stretched and yawned, in a dramatic display of boredom.  Afterwards, he fixed his stare back to hers and grinned wickedly, revealing his fangs which had drawn down, as well.  As Buffy stared angrily at his partially transformed features, he ran his tongue over his teeth and replied simply.

"Make me."

'Ooh!  Sexy, infuriating Vampire!'  She thought.  Instead, what she said was, "You asked for it!"  Before swinging her fist toward his smug, egotistical, grinning face.  And meeting nothing.

'Damnit!'  She cursed inwardly as he danced just out of her reach, laughing as she regained her stance.

The two of them hadn't sparred in quite a while, and she had forgotten just how fast he could be, when he wanted.  She often wondered if he let her get in half of the hits he took, but would never ask him.  She had a hunch that he had always been better than he had let on.  She figured he was sick like
that.  'Kinky, sexy, infuriating, smug, egotistical, vampire bastard!'

Just as Buffy prepared to swing again, he stepped forward and feinted to the right.  She saw this coming, and prepared to block him on the left, but instead, jumped as she heard a sharp clanging noise from slightly behind her.  As she did so, Spike swung in, His hand tangling in her hair, and jerking her head back, exposing her throat and knocking her off balance as he continued to walk forward, until she was dipped low, held up only by his arm, and un-able to kick due to the way he had straddled her legs, and pinned them between his own.

Still grinning, he snarled at her.  The low, inhuman sound echoed throughout the room and sent chills down Buffy's spine, despite the fact that she knew he didn't intend to really hurt her.

And then he stopped.  "You're dead."  He stated.  "Would you like to know what did you in?"  He asked, setting her back on her feet and stepping to the side.

He walked over and picked something up off of the floor, from behind where she had stood, and held it up before her.

"Your house keys."

Buffy stared in shock at the keys he held in his hand, forgetting her anger with him, and shook her head in disbelief.  "But, the noise I heard...  It was so loud!  It sounded like a weapon...  Like, someone else was behind us.  It was just my keys?!"

Spike nodded, sympathetically.

"The sights and sounds are always overwhelming, at first.  It's like being born all over again.  You have to learn everything from scratch.  Until then, it's all about instinct."

"I can't believe I let you distract me with my house keys," Buffy sighed, in disgust.  "Some great warrior girl, I am!  The First is going to kill us all with my keys!"

Spike tried to hide the little chuckle that was building up within him, but he wasn't doing a very good job.  He let out a little grunt as Buffy elbowed him in the ribs for it.   "Jerk," she said, as she flopped back down on the bed.

"'T's goin' to be alright, Pet."  He said, sitting down beside her.  "Just let go.  Stop thinking about it.  It's only been one night, after all!  Just you wait.  Before you know it, you'll be back to killin' everything within reach.  Just, try n' keep me off that list when that day comes, alright?"

A small smile formed on Buffy's lips in spite of herself.  She still felt pretty strange around Spike, but she was still thankful for him too.  He could piss her off quicker than anyone she knew.  But, he also had a way of making her feel safe when he was around.  But, maybe that was just because they had spent so much time saving each others' asses.  She suddenly couldn't figure out why she had been so scared she was going to kill him.

She ran her hands over the satin bedspread and looked up to the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the torches dancing above.

She and Spike had spent quite a bit of time down here, in the past.  In a strange sort of way, it felt more like home than her house.  A home, her mother had once said, is where you learn and are accepted and loved.

She had learned more things in this very room than she would ever dare to speak of.  Things that made her blush to this day, when she thought about them.  Under his hands, she could lose herself and forget everything else.  And, although Spike's feelings were never returned, he accepted her
as she was.  Even when she was afraid that her friends would not.  And, she knew that she was loved.

And here they were again, just like stepping into the past.  Spike had saved her from herself.  He had accepted her with her faults, and taught her something new about herself.  But, there was still something missing...

She turned to see that Spike had also reclined to stare at the shadows.  She watched him for a moment, before he seemed to sense her and looked her way.

"You alright, Pet?"  He asked her, his brow furrowing with concern as he noticed the look in her eyes.

"Yeah.  I think so," she replied. "I was just thinking."

"'Bout what?"  Spike asked.  He figured that maybe she was ready to go home.  It was probably for the best.  Everyone was worried about her, and her sister would be a wreck if he didn't bring Buffy back by morning.  But, truth be told, he was enjoying just being here with her.

"About you," she whispered, chewing her bottom lip and wondering why she had even opened her mouth.

"Me?"  He wondered, aloud. "What 'bout me?" 'Great,' he thought.  'She waits till now to hit me with the 20 questions about why I did or didn't do this or that...'

To his surprise, she propped herself up on her elbow, and leaned in closer, reaching over with her other hand to run her fingers lightly over his lips.

"I was wondering if you can still make me forget."

The shock of her words paled in comparison to what he felt as she leaned in and kissed him.  Spike wrapped his arms around her, and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the feeling of her lips on his.

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan


It was everything he no longer dared to hope for, to hold her in his arms again.  To feel her warm lips on his, her hair cascading all around him like gossamer sunshine as thier kiss deepened, thier tongues coming together in a silent dance.

His hands traveled over her lithe body, while hers roamed over the plains of his shoulders and chest.

This kiss was a far cry from anything the two of them had previously shared.  Absent, was the struggle and fight for dominance, which was the trademark of their past encounters.  Almost innocent in its simplicity, and yet, somehow more intoxicating than any other before it.

So caught up was he in her unexpected attentions, that Spike couldn't really have said when it was that he lost his shirt.  Or, for that matter, how the buttons of her blouse had become un-done, as if by magic.  His only focus being on the sensations of his cool skin being warmed by hers, the way her nails tickled across his back and shoulders, leaving little sparks of electricity to follow in their wake.

Eventually, Buffy rose to her knees, backing away slightly, while Spike followed her, unwilling to relinquish contact, even for a second, for fear that it would be gone forever.  A whine of protest coming from him as he did so, one that was quickly followed by a contented groan as she crawled smoothly astride his lap, nestling him snugly between the junction of her legs, rising upon her knees, slightly, before bringing herself back down, slowly and deliberately grinding her heat against the burgeoning evidence of his desire.

Christ, what this slip of a girl could do to him!  His hands came around to fondle her breasts, pushing the lace fabric of her bra down and exposing her hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers and earning himself a throaty moan from the girl above him.

His head fell back as her lips left his mouth to trail down along his jaw and follow the line of his neck with feather light licks and kisses that seemed to burn him as they passed, before she reached the place between his neck and shoulder, where she began to suck and tug on his skin, lightly, with her blunt teeth.

His eyes rolled at the instinctive emotions that she unknowingly stirred to life with her seemingly innocent actions.  His hand unconsciously came up to tangle in her golden locks, encouraging her to continue her seductively lulling attentions.

His other hand slid back around to firmly grasp her backside, pulling her more firmly to himself as she continued to rock teasingly against him, driving him mad with the promise of her heat, even through the restrictive confines of their jeans.

And, yet... the most delirious sensation of all was still the one caused by her administrations on his throat.  He felt almost ashamed of this, as he knew that she couldn't have any idea of what her actions mimicked, much less, the implications of what they promised.  She would never want him in that way, he knew.  She may share her body with him, but never her soul...

The feeling of her hand tugging open the buttons on his jeans snapped him out of his reverie, just before her fingers wrapped around his throbbing erection and began to pump him rhythmically in time with each sucking pull she took against his skin.

'Oh, I am thoroughly buggered,' he thought to himself as both sensations seemed to clash together in a dizzying ebb and flow of lust verses need.  He wanted her.  He wanted to pretend that she knew what she was doing to him, and meant it.  To lose himself in his fantasy of her finally accepting him to be hers.

But, what he *needed* to do was make her stop.  Not allow her to make him feel this way, because she didn't understand.  And, to allow it to continue was wrong.  She couldn't even comprehend.  It would be like...  Like taking advantage of a child.  It would be like rape.

He shuddered as the thought entered his mind.  He couldn't allow himself to indulge in anything with her that she couldn't fully grasp.  Even if it was all in his head.

But there was nothing saying he couldn't still shag her senseless!

Seeking to break the spell that she had unwittingly cast over him, he pulled back a bit, just enough to break her grip on his neck, and turned her face in an attempt to catch her lips with his.  His other hand reached around to fumble with the button and zip on her jeans.

He was surprised as she broke away from his kiss, batted his hand away and looked into his eyes with a curious expression.  Her lips curled into a sweetly seductive smile and he noticed that her eyes had brightened again, changing from her natural color to the glittering, cat's eye, green.

"I want you."  She purred, her eyes seemed to bore through him and into his soul.  Her fingers trailed lazy circles around the head of his swollen cock, sliding over the weeping tip and through the moisture there, before gripping him once more, stroking him slowly in a squeeze and release motion from base to tip.

"Oh God, Buffy, you know I want you," Spike responded.  His hand reached back for the waistband of her jeans, edging its way back to where she had just removed it, confusing him as she pushed him away again.

"Then, what is it, Luv?"  He asked, his brows knitting together as he sought to understand her actions, which spoke such a contradiction to her words. "Why won't you let me please you?"

Changing tactics, he lowered his voice to a sultry whisper, as he said, "I know how to please you.  Can make your toes curl..."

For the moment, Buffy was too pre-occupied with listening to his words, and watching his mouth, - particularly the way his tongue settled against his teeth, curling as he said the word - to stop him, as his hand found its way back, once again, and began to un-do her jeans.

"Your eyes roll back in your head..."

Her eyes fluttered, and did just that, as his cool hand slipped inside and began stroking lightly against her clit, which was already swollen and over-sensitized by all the rubbing she had been doing just moments before.  Her head tilted back, and she moaned softly as she surrendered herself to his touch.

"You know I can make you scream."

He pulled her back to him then, kissing her deeply and thoroughly.  He smiled to himself as he felt her melt into his arms.  'Now, let's see about gettin' rid o' the rest o' these blasted clothes,' he thought, and was just seeing to doing that, when she broke their kiss again and went right back to his neck!

'Shit!'  He cursed inwardly, as she began sucking on the exact same spot he thought he had distracted her from.  'What *is* it with her, tonight!'

"Buffy..."  He stammered, "Buffy, Luv...  C'mon..."

"Hmmm..."  Was the only response he got out of her.  He could see that she wasn't going to let go, even to give him a proper response!  And...  'Is the crazy bint tryin' to bite me?  Surely, she isn't...'

He resisted his demon which was trying to come to the fore, howling its consent of what it deemed as the coming of a claim from a worthy mate.  He pushed it back, intent on keeping his head about him, when he felt it.

'Son of a bitch!'  His mind shouted, as he felt the unmistakable sting of fangs, as Buffy scraped them over his throat, a low growl coming from her chest as she set her jaw, working as though trying to find the best angle to get a grip.

"Bloody Hell!"  He bellowed suddenly, causing Buffy to jump in surprise, as he pushed her roughly away from him.  "What in the blazin' hell do you think you're playin' at, Slayer?!"

"He stood up, refastened his pants, and fixed her with a furious stare, his chest rising and falling extravagantly with each unnecessary breath he took.

"I...  I dont know."  Buffy answered him softly, looking more like a scolded little girl than the sexy seductress of mere seconds ago. she crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at him with wide, nervous eyes, before averting them to stare at the floor, instead.  "I thought...  I wanted to..."

"Wanted to what?"  He shot back at her.  "Play vampire?  Oh, lookie what I can do!  Let's see what Spike does when I do this?  You know, for someone who has such a large list of do's and dont's that apply to yourself, you sure have a lot of disregard for what you do to me!"

Buffy still hadn't raised her eyes, as she fumbled with the buttons of her blouse.  "I'm sorry," she said meekly.  "I didn't mean to...  I mean..."  She turned her teary eyes back up to his before she finished.  "I dont know what I was doing.  Something just...  Something made me feel like..."  Her words broke off in a broken sob, as she buried her face in her hands.

Spike continued to glare at her for a moment, from where he stood.  After pulling his shirt back on, he stared at the sobbing wreck of a girl for a moment longer, and felt his anger turn inward, instead. &nspJust like he had suspected, she had not a clue as to what she was doing.  But, instead of her using her new little accessories to toy with him, her demon had taken advantage of the situation and decided to sport a little power play.

He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, mentally counting to ten as he tried to calm down.  When he opened his eyes again, he walked back to the edge of the bed, conflicted about what to say next.

Part of him wanted desperately to comfort her. But another part told him that she needed to understand that, like it or not, there were certain lines that couldn't be crossed with him. And, if her demon had taken a dominant fancy to his, she needed to learn to get control of the situation. After all, he knew for a fact that *she* didn't feel the same way...

"Buffy," he spoke her name softly, as he came to sit in front of her.  He put his hand underneath her chin, tilting her face back up toward his.  "Buffy, I need you to look at me, Pet."

Begrudgingly, she did as he asked, her red, tear filled eyes locked onto his, as he told her gently, but sternly, "You must never, never do that again, alright?  You dont want to."

She held his gaze for a moment, before sniffing and wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands.  He wasn't yelling at her anymore, but he still looked pretty serious...  And, she still didn't really understand what had happened.

"Spike...  I know it's not fun to get bitten...  I say that from first hand experience. And, I'm sorry...  I don't know what came over me, cause usually...  Eww...  I wouldn't do that." She made a sour face which changed quickly to one of retrospection before she asked him, "But, if it made you so mad, how come you seemed ok with it, at first?"

"I wasn't," Spike clarified to her, instantly.  It's just that, well, to *you* it might not sound like a pleasurable thing, but to a vamp, or to someone who is receiving a claim, it can be...  Very much so, in fact.  And, so it can be a little distracting.

"A claim?"  She quipped, "What kind of *claim* could make a bite feel like anything other than a bite?"

Spike lit a smoke and looked to the ceiling as he answered her.  "A mating claim, Luv.  Which is what I think your demon had a hankerin' for."

"So..."  Buffy frowned, trying to wrap her mind around what he was telling her.  "So, it's like a sex thing?  And, vampires think it feels good?"  She blinked, and thought this over for a moment.  "Then, how is that bad, for you?"

Spike sighed and flicked his ashes on the floor.  "No.  It's not just about sex, Luv.  It's about choosing a mate.  Forever.  The claim, if accepted, binds the person to you as yours. There is no breaking it.  It leaves a mark that never fades, and it is like a beacon to any other creature of the night that you are owned by the one who marked you...  And, all this doesn't really matter, Pet, because it's not happening again.  C'mon, Let's get you all pulled together, and we'll walk back home."

Buffy still had a lot of questions running around in her head as she tied her hair back and straightened her clothes. Just as they were getting ready to climb the stairs to the upper level, she touched his arm and asked one more question, that was bugging her.

"So, not that I *want* to do that again, because...  Yuck!  But, if I had done that, you wouldn't have accepted this claim, or whatever, and everything would have been ok,
right?  I mean, no mystical ownership or anything like that, so no harm done?"

Spike looked down at her for a long moment, different emotions flashing through his eyes as he pondered how to answer her question.

When he finally spoke, his words left her with more questions than when she started.

"It won't happen again, Buffy."  He said, firmly, in a tone that left no room for questioning.  "And, you dont needed a claim to tell you that I've always been yours."

Buffy blinked back fresh tears as she watched him ascend the stairs, taking a moment to catch her breath before she began to follow him.

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan




Giles was feeling sorry for himself.

As he poured himself another glass of scotch, he found himself staring at, rather than reading, the pages of the book that he held in his hands.

Putting it down in frustration, he smiled ruefully to himself as he thought about the situation these days had brought them all to.  Not so long ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of comaraderie between himself and so many members of less than human kind.  Not so long before that, he would have been appalled at the thought of so many humans knowing exactly who and what the slayer was, not to mention a group of them helping her with her duties.  Everything that he had been taught by the counsel spoke against it.

But then, most every other slayer that had come before Buffy had perished long before they reached her age.  Buffy Summers, at 22 years of age, was older than most of her slayer sisters by at least 4 years.  Perhaps, if the others had not had to live their lives in such secrecy, they too, would have lasted longer.

The pity that he felt for these countless number of girls could not overpower the wave of pride that came over him, when he thought of his slayer.  She had overcome so many obstacles and he could no longer deny that her stubborn refusal to abide by the rules had much to do with that.

But, as he thought of this, Dawn's words continued to echo through his mind.  "Buffy believed in you," she had said, "Can't you have the same belief in her that she gave to you?"

But as proud and confident of Buffy as he was, Dawn was right.  When it came to Spike, he had not trusted her judgement at all.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that so many of her allies were of the demon and/or previously demon origin that she had so readily accepted him back into their midst.  It had appeared to him that she had become so accustomed to Spike's previously chipped state that she had forgotten what truly lie underneath his *now* helpful exterior.

But in truth, he always suspected that there was more to it than that.

Giles recalled how even when Spike had first come to them 3 years ago, starving and begging for safety from the initiative.  Buffy had badgered, taunted and teased the vampire, more like a child would do to an annoying classmate, she secretly had a crush on, rather than an evil creature who had threatened their lives on several occasions.

She had never taken that much interest in an enemy before.  There was no room for argument or second chances, or truces.  But, Spike had always been an exception to the rule.

Giles himself had come to Spike, after they had learned that his chip did not in any way affect his ability to fight demons, and offered him the chance to join them.  It wasn't something easy for him to do, but he figured that perhaps, as strange as the idea seemed it could work. Spike lived for violence, but he also had an extensive knowledge of various demon languages and customs, and could therefore be quite useful to their cause.

Spike, however, had laughed the idea off, stating that he wanted nothing more to do with the whole lot of them.

However, Spike seemed to forget his own words, when it came to Buffy.  Spike did anything that she asked of him, and it seemed as if he shadowed her wherever she went.  He was like a bloody stalker, he was!

But then, he had refused to reveal Dawn's true nature to Glory, at risk of his own self, something that Giles would have thought to be completely against Spike's nature.  And that, Giles believed, was the turning point in Buffy's opinion of Spike.  No matter how much she would protest to the contrary, Giles knew for certain that his selfless actions had placed Spike, the un-souled creature that he was, in Buffy's small circle of trust.

A fact that made Giles very nervous.

So much, was Buffy's trust in Spike, that she had left him in charge of her sister's care in her absence.  And, it wasn't hard for Giles to see, even before the truth had been revealed to all, that there was more to Buffy's relationship with Spike than just professional comaraderie, after her return.

And this made Giles even more nervous.

He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to cause Spike's sudden departure last year, but Buffy, who had finally seemed to be coming out of her depression, had become withdrawn and distant again for quite some time, afterwards.  And, her refusal to tell any of them about his return, all the way up until she brought him to stay in her own home, didn't do anything to bolster Giles' confidence in her judgement concerning this vampire.

"But then," he thought, "What kind of example am I?"  Here he was -- sitting at the dining room table, after helping his slayer to turn herself into a monster, attacking and belittling Xander, letting Willow run off to Los Angeles with a werewolf who none of them had heard from in over 3 years and seemed to know quite a bit more about The First than any of them would have anticipated, while he was getting pissed on scotch, and was doing nothing but sit on his stuffy old British ass, allowing the very vampire that he had accused of being under-handed, to be the one to find Buffy and bring her home.

'And why is that?'  He wondered.  'Ah, yes, it's because I was wrong.'  He nodded silently to himself as he took another sip from his glass.

All this time, he had been waiting for the other shoe to fall, for Spike to turn on her.  But, he never had.  He had held such little faith in Buffy's instincts concerning Spike that he had never stopped to look over the facts himself.  But he could see it now.  It wasn't Buffy's judgment that had been affected; it was his own.  He had let his prejudice cloud his vision.  And, in the process, had taken actions which proved himself to be the one who was un-deserving of trust.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door being opened, and he raised his head in time to see the very subjects of his thoughts as they both made their way inside.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed, rising from his chair, but standing where he was so as not to alarm her.  "Thank God you are alright!"

Buffy turned to him and smiled weakly.  She appeared normal now, by all accounts, but she looked pale and exhausted.

Dawn, having not seen the way Buffy had reacted to Giles, Spike and Willow in the basement, did not have the same reservations, however.  After hearing Giles' words from downstairs, she threw open her bedroom door and raced down the stairs and quite literally flung herself into her sister's arms.

"Buffy, oh my God!  I was so scared!"  She exclaimed, hugging Buffy tightly and not noticing the panicked expression on her sister's face as she slowly brought her arms around to hug her in return.

Giles noticed, though, and was relieved that he had kept his distance.  He looked to Spike and noted the serious expression in his eyes and the upward tilt of his head as he glared back at him.  The warning was clear.  'Upset her again, and I will deal with you.'

Accepting of Spike's feelings in this matter, Giles chose not to mention it, opting instead for a nod and a greeting.  "Hello, Spike," he said, calmly.

"Lo, Watcher," Spike nodded and responded, in kind.

"I'm...  I'm sorry if I scared you guys," Buffy's voice broke their mutual concentration, bringing their focus back down to where she was standing. Wringing her hands nervously, she continued, saying, "I um, well, I just needed to get out and clear my head.  I wasn't all myself, I guess."  She dropped her hands, and looked back and forth between her sister and her watcher before concluding,  "I uh, I think I'm okay now."

"No, Buffy," Giles said, as he began to walk towards her.  He could feel Spike's gaze boring a hole through him, but he ignored it and kept his attention on Buffy instead.  "It is I, who should be sorry.  For a great many things.  You have nothing to apologize for.  I'm just so glad to see that you are alright."

Noting her red rimmed eyes, he realized that she had been crying, and was most likely on the verge of doing so again.  Conflicted with the urge to comfort her, verses the fear of upsetting her further, he settled for the middle road, leaving the choice in her hands as he stopped a few short feet away and extended his arms in invitation.

A second passed.  Two.  Three.  Just when Giles was ready to accept that perhaps his gesture had not been such a welcome idea, she stepped forward.

Giles wrapped his arms around the girl who should have been his own, and thanked God that she was safe, and had seen fit to forgive him.

"It's alright, Buffy," he told her.  "It's all going to be fine.  You're home.  You're safe.  And, I believe in you.  We're going to beat this thing, all of us," he stated, looking over her shoulder to meet the steely eyes of the vampire who was still watching him, intently.  Hoping he was making his intentions clear, Giles held his gaze as he concluded, "Together."

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan




"I'm so tired," Buffy mumbled into Giles' shirt.  "I think, maybe, I should go to bed."

"Of course, Buffy," Giles said, softly.  "You've had a long night.  I think sleep would be the best thing.  I'm sure that all this will be much easier, come morning."

"Yeah, Buffy," Dawn piped in from behind her,  "C'mon, I'll walk up with you.  I'm pretty beat up myself."  She chuckled at her own joke, while gently rubbing the bump on the back of her head.

Nodding her agreement, Buffy slowly left the comfort of Giles' arms and turned towards the stairs.  As she passed, her fingers trailed lightly down Spike's arm until they reached his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, never breaking her pace, as she quietly followed her sister up the steps.

---

"Christ, Slayer!  You think you could get any closer, next time!?"

Spike pulled the stake out of the wall of the training room, where it had struck only centimeters away from where he was standing.  It wasn't really wood, of course, but that didn't make the idea of being run through with it any more pleasant.

Buffy's only response was a smug grin.

Since her transformation two weeks ago, the two of them had begun training together and thier sparing matches often included the added fun of seek and capture.  However, no matter how far she had come, Spike had still managed to outwit her, until today. Today, she had managed to knock him flat more times than she could remember, and this stake, which had nearly hit him, she had thrown in anticipation of his next move, striking the wall *just* in front of him, before he could turn...  And he had been *behind* her!  She was absofreakinlutely stoked!

"Alright," Spike snorted, "Let's not forget what I told you, a couple o' weeks ago, 'bout leavin' me off your staking list!"

"I *so* totally dusted you!"  Buffy cried out, excitedly.

"No," Spike corrected her, a little smirk of his own curling the corners of his mouth,  "You dusted the wall, but thanks for playin'."

"This is so cool!"  She gushed.  "I feel like Luke Skywalker in Star Wars.  Ooh!  I wonder how we'd do with the blindfolds and stuff!"

Spike cocked an eyebrow and looked to the door which led out into the magic shop.  "Careful, Slayer, he teased, "Starting to sound a bit like the whelp, there."

"Huh?  Oh."  Buffy blushed slightly when she made the connection.  "I guess I kinda do, don't I?  But...  It was still wicked cool!"

"Yeah," Spike nodded and rolled his eyes.  "It was a bit of alright."

Buffy grinned all the wider as Spike downplayed her latest victory.  "Yeah," she taunted, "You just hate that I gotcha!"

"Not true," he corrected her.  "And, what's to say that I didn't let you?"

Buffy's eyes grew large as she said, "Oh, you so did not!"

Spike smirked and shrugged.  "Maybe...  But, you don't know for sure, do you?"

"Oh, you are so annoying!"  She huffed.  "I don't care what you say.  I know I got you, so there!"

Spike remained silent.  He was secretly pretty impressed with how much she had learned in such a short time.  But, he knew better than to say so.  This way, she'd stay on her toes.  Plus, what was the fun in admitting defeat?

As he watched her grin and prance victoriously around the training room, he was rather surprised when she turned back to him, suddenly, her expression serious.

"Spike, how do you think this is supposed to make such a difference?"  She gestured to herself as she spoke.  "I mean, I'm stronger.  But, I'm still just one person.  If having vamp senses made all the difference, then you could take out The First.  There has to be more to this."

"I don't rightly know, Luv," Spike answered her, honestly.  "But then, I s'pose we aren't meant to 'til it's time, right?"

Still not satisfied, but knowing the truth in his words, Buffy nodded in acceptance.  A beat passed before Buffy squared her shoulders and met his eyes again.  "I think I'm ready for patrol.  I'm long overdue for some slayage," she said, and headed for the door.  Stopping to look back over her shoulder at Spike, she asked, "You coming?"

---

Fortunately for Spike and Buffy, and unfortunately for Sunnydale's demon population, it was a pretty busy night.  During Buffy's downtime, the nasties had dropped their guard, and that was just fine by her.

Spike watched with a kind of prideful awe as she tirelessly swept through the graveyards and back alleys of town cutting down every evil creature in her path. He had always admired her skill, but tonight, she was incredible.  To Spike, or more aptly, the William in him, she moved like poetry in motion.

At some point, they reached Restfield cemetery, where they managed to stumble across a rather large new vamp nest.  The group quickly scattered, leaving Buffy and Spike to split up in order to chase them down.

'This is almost laughable, really.  Like playing a video game,' Spike thought to himself.  'Catch up to one, stake it, run through the dust to catch the next and stake it...'

The last one he was chasing looked back over her shoulder as she ran.  Upon seeing she was all alone and knowing that she was next as Spike quickly advanced upon her, the panicked vampiress gave in to the temptation that had been pushing at her since he and the slayer had first barged into their crypt.

She began to scream.

"Oh for cryin' out loud!"  Spike snarled, jumping over a tombstone, and changing directions as she began to weave in and out of the maze of graves, screaming bloody murder all the while.  "Have some pride, woman!  Why can't you bloody women ever have the decency to die quietly?"

If it were possible, it seemed to Spike that she screamed all the louder.  The shrill sound echoed in his ears and seemed to pierce into his skull, which made him all the more determined to put an end to this silly chase and shut her up for good.

Changing techniques, he sped up and began to weave opposite of her, blocking each route of escape, and effectively herding her out of the cluster of stones, and into the cleared grass beyond them.

His luck took a turn for the better when she, in classic horror flic fashion, stepped into a soft spot in the earth, twisted her ankle and fell flat on her face.

'Stupid bint,' he thought.  Closing the last few feet between them, he raised his stake and dove in for the kill.

And went flying as he was blindsided by another figure, both of them rolling ass over tea-kettle across the lawn.

"Heard you were with the good guys now, Spike," quipped the lithe brunette who leaned over him, her stake pressed firmly over his heart.  "I didn't know snacking on girls was in the job description!"

'Un-fucking-believable!'  Spike thought, as he stared in shock and confusion at this woman whose vibes rang strongly of slayer and who now held his life in her hands.

"Look, missy...  I don't know what nest you fell out of, but you're searchin' up the wrong tree, here!  That girl isn't a girl!  She--"


The woman flew backwards, her stake flying through the air as the vampiress attacked her.

Spike sat up, rubbing his bruised chest and took a moment to shake his head at the stupidity of the vamp.  He supposed she figured he would let her go if she took care of the woman for him...  But, if she had been smarter, she would have just run away and let the woman dust him!

"What the hell, man!"  The brunette shouted as she struggled with the vamp who was doing everything in her power to find an open spot to get a bite in.

Spike walked over to the scuffle at a leisurely pace and looked down at the dark haired woman as he finished his sentence.  "She's a vampire," he said, before reaching down and hauling the vamp off of her, holding her forcefully by the throat, at arm's length.

"what is wrong with you!"  She hissed at him, "I was helping!"

"Rule number one, Pet.  Watch your own back," Spike told her.  "Y' should've let the bird dust me before she realized what you were."

"Sick, Slayer loving freak!" Were her final words before his stake met with her heart, and she crumbled into dust.

Brushing the grass from her jeans, the brunette stood up and extended her right hand to him.

"Hey, man," she said, "Never let it be said that I couldn't admit when I was wrong.  You saved my ass.  I'm --"

"Faith," Buffy's voice cut into her little speech, causing them both to look her way.

"Hey B!"  Faith smiled and raised an eyebrow, haughtily.  "Miss me?"

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan



Buffy's eyes narrowed as she looked at the girl whose life mission once seemed to be to make hers miserable.  The only human she had ever been pushed to deliberately harm.

The girl who still held Spike's hand firmly clasped in her own.

"When did you get out?"  Buffy asked her, coolly.  "Last I heard, you were still in prison.  I didn't think we'd see you again, so soon."

"Yeah, about that..."  Faith shrugged her shoulders and hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her low slung jeans.  "I got word that things on the outside were gettin' pretty gnarly, so I politely explained to our fine boys in blue, that I had a job to do.

Without looking behind her, she reached back and slid her hand into the pocket of Spike's duster, earning herself a annoyed remark from said vampire.  Deftly plucking a cigarette out of his pack and taking his zippo along with it, she continued speaking.  "Once I was finished pleading the severity of my case, they were cool enough to grant me an extended leave of absence."

Satisfied with her clever response, Faith winked at Buffy before placing the cigarette between her lips and lighting up.  Inhaling deeply, she tilted her face to the sky and moaned appreciatively.

"God," she said, "I don't know what I missed more about life out here.  This..."

Faith took another drag on the smoke before turning to hand Spike's lighter over to him, her eyes locking playfully with his as their fingers touched.  "Or sex."

"Cut the crap, Faith," Buffy spat.  "What do you want?"

She hadn't meant to release as much venom as she had, with her tone.  She knew that Faith enjoyed nothing more than fraying her nerves, and Buffy inwardly chided herself for giving her the satisfaction.  But, it had been a while since she had been face to face with her, and she had fallen out of practice.  Not to mention the fact that her flirtation with Spike made her want to rip Faith's smug, pretty face clean off!

"Yo B!", Faith chuckled and held up her hands in mock surrender.  "Take a chill...  I just wanna help.  Found someone you might want to see, on the way into town.  Will sent me to come find you.  She's at the hospital."

"The hospital?"  A hundred different suspicions raced through Buffy's mind.  'What did Faith do to her?'  She wondered.  "What is she doing in the hospital, Faith?"  She asked, her eyes narrowing, dangerously.

"She ain't *in* the hospital, B.  And don't think I don't know what you're thinkin'.  I didn't do anything to her.  She's the one that brought me back to Sunnydale.  She and Wolf boy are sitting with a girl we found.  She's cut up pretty bad.  Says she's got a message for you."

'So, *that's* what Willow had to go to L.A. for,' Buffy thought.  She had wondered what had kept her friend away for so long.  When Giles had told her about the phone call Willow had received from Fred, he had said that she planned to return quickly.  But, the very next day, she had called to inform them that there had been a glitch in her plans, and that she would be stuck there for a while.  She had been pretty evasive about the whole thing, too.  Now, Buffy understood why.

As much as Faith could be a benefit to them at this point in their lives, no amount of good-doing was going to make Buffy happy about having her around.

Meeting Spike's gaze, briefly, she attempted to push down the little green monster that had rose up within her, so unexpectedly, before she addressed Faith again.

She offered her a tight lipped smile and managed a strained, "Welcome back," before motioning for Faith and Spike to follow her as she turned and headed for the cemetery gates.

"Come on," she said.  "If you are gonna take me to see this girl, we need to get cleaned up."

---

Hospitals and Buffy were un-mixy things.

From the moment she stepped through the automatic doors of Sunnydale General, her mind was flooded with memories.  Everywhere she looked had some memory attached to it.  The waiting room couches where she and Dawn would sit for hours, awaiting the results of whatever test the doctors needed to run on thier mother, that day.  The phone she had used to call Willow, Giles and Xander. The soda machine she had kicked before breaking down and sobbing on the floor.  Its refusal to render its promise of caffeine filled alertness, in exchange for her money, becoming the straw that snapped her already frayed nerves...

Buffy hated this place.

Now, as she and Faith traveled through the corridors, the sickeningly sweet smell of disinfectant did little to mask the odor of illness and despair that wafted out of the rooms as they passed them.

She followed Faith to the end of the hall to the room where the girl was staying and halted just inside the doorway, closing her eyes for a moment to try and shake the emotions that came along with the faint beeping of the heart monitor, before stepping through to meet her.

After she did so, the first person she saw was a sleeping Oz, propped in a chair, followed by Willow, who was standing at the young girl's bedside.  Faith, who wasn't too fond of hospital settings herself, quietly informed them that she was going back to the house, promising to do a quick sweep through town on her way back, for old times' sake.

Realizing all of a sudden that this was the first time she and Willow had seen each other since she had freaked out in the basement, Buffy blushed slightly and whispered an awkward "Hi," which was returned just as shyly, by Willow, before Buffy turned her attentions to the bruised and battered girl, who was watching her from the bed.

"Hey, I'm Buffy...  I'm the slayer.  You have a message for me?"

---

Buffy felt sick, during the drive home from the hospital.

That poor girl, whose name she'd learned was Shannon, was another potential.  She had been on her way to Sunnydale when she was attacked and chased by bringers, until a priest pulled up along-side her in a truck.  She didn't realize that this man wasn't at all what he seemed until they were a couple of miles away, and by that time, it was far too late.

He told her his name was Caleb, and that the bringers were his *boys.*  Shannon was burned, stabbed and thrown out of a moving vehicle, just so that she could serve as this sicko's messenger.

Buffy stared, blankly, through the passenger window of the car, seeing nothing but the vision of Shannon's multiple cuts and bruises, her cracked and shaking voice playing over and over through her head.  "He said to tell you, 'I have something of yours.'"

And all she could feel was rage.

---

Spike was stretched out on the cot in the basement, enjoying the rare opportunity of being totally clean and wrapped in nothing but the sheets, while he listened to the hustle and bustle of over-caffinated slayerettes, rough-housing overhead.

He wondered how the newest addition to this already estrogen packed household was going to fit in.  She didn't strike him as the kind of bird to play well with others, and from the stories he had been told, he had little doubt that his impression was anything other than spot on.

It was then, that he heard the basement door open, followed by a less than familiar sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Thou thinketh of the devil, and lo, appears," he murmured into the darkness, too low for her to hear.

She came to a stop near the end of the stairs and, upon sitting down, she lit up a smoke, jumping a little bit as his voice drifted to her from out of the shadows.

"Is this a private party, or can I bum one of those?"

Turning in the direction of his voice, she took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the gloom before breaking into a sly smile, while tapping on the pack she held in her hands.  "Well, I guess I *do* owe you one, now, don't I?"

Standing, she made her way down the remaining steps and across the basement to stand in front of him. Handing Spike one of her cigarettes, she stopped and regarded him with a wry expression as her attention was drawn to the wall over his shoulder.

Following her gaze, he looked to the chains bolted to the wall behind him, and scoffed a bit, when he turned back to her.  "Oh, those!  They're not what you think."

Holding her hands up, she stepped back, with a grin.  "Yo, man, it's cool.  There was this one guy, who liked me to dress up like a schoolgirl and take this freakin' bullwhip --"

"No," Spike interrupted, "really.  I was hurting people..."

"Huh...  Was this before or after you started workin' with the good guys?"  Faith asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"After," he stated, "But I'm all better now."  He took a drag and settled back against the wall, his posture clealy stating that he had explained as much as he was willing to on the subject.

A short time passed before Spike looked back to her and commented, "You could do better than a guy like that, you know."

Faith shrugged nonchalantly and laughed a little then.  "Ah, it's all old hat.  Scratch the surface of any granola type dude - naughty nurses and horny cheerleaders...  I figure, if you can't beat 'em-"

"Join 'em," Spike finished for her, grinning with amusement.

"That's right," she smirked, "Just long as they know who's on top."

"That, I'd guess, would be you," Spike answered.

Faith nodded and broke into a wide smile.  "You'd guess right," she agreed.

A few loud thumps and giggles from the potentials, upstairs, drew their attention to the ceiling, and Faith nodded her head toward the stairs, saying, "It's crazy up there, man.  They need to lay off the Starbucks."

Spike grinned and nodded, cringing slightly as a loud crash sounded from above.  "Yeah, sounds like they're set to tear the place apart."

Stepping back a bit, Faith made herself comfortable on a large trunk that was placed across from him.  After shedding her jacket, she raised her arms above her head, arching her back in a languid stretch.

Sighing, she dropped her arms back to her sides, and said, "They're alright though.  Just green, is all."

"So then, why aren't you up there with them?"  Spike asked, quirking one brow at her in curiosity.

"Nah, not me," she replied, shaking her head.  "Just spent a long incarceration surrounded by a whole slew of female types.  The whole girl bonding thing, I'm kinda over it."

Spike smiled knowingly and gazed at her for a moment before responding, "You could have walked out any time you liked.  No one could have stopped you."

"*I* stopped me," she declared abruptly.  "I needed to be there.  I got... dangerous, for a while."

Spike nodded again.  It sounded as though the two of them had a little more in common than he had originally thought.

Suddenly, a new gleam lit up in Faith's eyes, her lips curling up in a seductive smile as she rose from her seat and walked over to Spike's cot.  Crawling up beside him, she leaned back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with him and said, "You know, we've met before, right?"

Spike shot her an odd look in response, and waited for her to continue.

"It was a while ago...  I was kinda wearing a different body."

After she said this, Spike turned away and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  "Ah, the body swap... with Buffy.  Yeah, I heard about that."

"She told you?"  Faith asked, turning a little on her hip to face him.

"She told me enough," he responded, "Didn't take me long to fill in the blanks from there."

"Well, do you remember what-"

He turned toward her then, his face bare inches from hers as he repeated her words to him.  "Said you could ride me till my knees buckled.  Squeeze me till I popped, like warm champagne...  Not the sort of thing a man forgets."

She turned away from him, grinning smugly at the effect she must have had on him.  "Yeah, I should have known you'd figure out that it wasn't her.  Buffy would never throw down like that."

"You really *have* been away, haven't you?"  Spike asked her, pointedly.

Faith's eyes grew wide, and her jaw dropped in surprise before she shoved him playfully on the arm, exclaiming, "Oh, no!  Don't tell me little miss tightly wound has been gettin' her naughty on!"

It was Spike's turn to smirk smugly, before turning away.  "Not so much, as of late," he began before stopping.  "A lot has changed since you've been gone...  You'll find most everyone here isn't anythin' like you once might have perceived them to be..."

His words stopped short as he looked up at the figure who was now standing, arms folded, in the center of room.  He was surprised that he hadn't realized she was there, and felt a little uncomfortable, although, admittedly, somewhat flattered by the suspicious look in her eyes.

"Well," she said, "It's nice to see that you two are getting along so well."

"Yeah," Faith agreed, casting a hesitant glance in Spike's direction geared specifically to make things look suspicious, "You know all the cool vampires."

Buffy's grin was as hard and cold as ice.  "Yeah." Was all she said in return.

Silence hung heavily in the air, each one lost in thier own thoughts.  Buffy watched as Spike busied himself with scratching the back of his neck, while fiddling with an invisible snag on the sheets.  Everything about his demeanor screamed *busted* to her.

'But then,' she reminded herself, 'why would he feel on the spot?  It isn't like he has anything to feel guilty about...  It's not like he belongs to me or anything...'

Her eyes flitted back to Faith, who was now standing in front of Spike's trunk, and pulling on her jacket, a smug smile still tugging at the corners of her scarlet mouth.

Buffy felt as though her blood was boiling.  'Same old Faith,' she thought, 'Still chasing after the men in my life, like a bitch in heat!'  Looking between the two of them once more and settling her gaze back on Spike, she was overcome with a feeling of possessiveness and made a silent vow to herself. 'But, he's never going to be hers.'

Finally breaking the quiet, Faith turned to Buffy and asked her, "So, what's the sitch?"

"Ow!  Bleedin' hell!"  Spike cursed, rubbing his eye as he pushed aside the twigs that had hit him in the face.

"So much for stealthy vampire grace," Faith snickered as she ducked the tree limb that he had so clumsily stumbled into.  "Say, aren't you supposed to like, see better than we can, out here?"

"Quiet, you guys!"  Buffy hissed, "Are you *trying* to blow our cover?"  She looked several yards ahead of them to the bringer that they had been following though the woods.

"Hate to be the one to break it to you, Highness," Spike snarked, "but we don't have a cover.  The bloke up there knows we're on to him!  Have you ever known one of those bastards to ever travel alone?  And, considerin' that it's their duty to track down the likes of you, I hardly think he is clueless as to your presence!"

"Big Bad's got a point, B," Faith chimed in, "Ran across plenty of those guys, myself, before I came out here.  They are pretty perceptive, for a bunch of blind freaks."

"When I want your opinion, Faith," Buffy began, stopping behind a tree and waiting when the bringer came to a stop, up ahead.  "I'll be sure to ask you for it."

Buffy kept her eyes focused ahead of them, intent on keeping track of their unknowing scout.

'Since when did Spike start lagging behind, when they set out to do something?'  She wondered. 'And, when did he jump aboard the *let's second guess Buffy's plans* ship?'  Usually, he would be right at her side, but tonight, he was all with the running into things and running at the mouth, with Faith.

She felt a fire burning between her eyes, and a tight feeling in her gut that had become so familiar to her, over the past few weeks.  In light of her current company, she finally admitted to herself what it was.  She was jealous.  Faith had always managed to bring that out in her.  She just never figured that Spike would fit into the equation...  But he did...  And she was...  But she'd be damned if she would let either one of them know it!

The bringer tensed and turned his head to the left, just as a chill ran down Buffy's spine.  'No time to worry about this now,' she thought, 'But, later, I just might need to have a talk with a certain bleached menace.'

Catching up and passing Spike, Faith crept up behind Buffy and whispered, "Yo, B...  I'm just sayin' - "

"That I still think this is the worst plan ever!"  Spike interjected, shaking his head.  "It's a trap, plain and simple.  I didn't survive this long without learnin' a thing or two, and this - '"

"Cool it, Grandpa," Buffy quipped, her eyes still focused on the bringer.  "Something else is out here."

Quieting and looking around now, Faith felt the same tingles as Buffy.  Turning her back on her, she planted her feet in a fighting stance and looked around in the darkness.

"Oh great," Spike murmured, as several glowing sets of eyes began to appear in the shadows.  The bringer that they had been tracking turned towards them, his scarred and sightless face a hideous vision, even at this distance, and grinned, maliciously, before running, effectively disappearing between the trees.

"Told you it was a trap," Spike huffed, between clenched teeth, before stepping into formation with the two slayers.  Buffy had backed away from the tree to give herself freedom of movement and now the three of them stood in a circle, with their backs to each other, waiting as the small army of vampires approached from all sides.

As they drew closer, the first thing that Buffy noticed was how thin and haggard they all appeared.  They looked like holocaust victims with their bones showing through their skin.  The vibes that they emanated washed over and through her, and she could swear that she could actually feel their ravenous hunger.  Spike had been right, after all.  There was no reason that such a group of vamps would be in this condition unless something had been preventing them from hunting.  They were under the control of The First.  And they had just been set loose just for this occasion.

They rushed as one, fangs bared and salivating with anticipation.  Their number was so great the best chance that Buffy and the others had against them would be to remain in this formation as long as possible, to prevent being attacked from all sides.  However, as the first line crashed into them full force, they all knew that they could only hold it for so long.

They swung into action, kicking, punching, and staking as quickly as they could, but just as one vamp would dissolve, there would be another one, snarling and clawing through the dust.

Spike was the first to be separated.  Buffy felt, rather than saw this, and she was un-able to do anything to help.  She and Faith pressed into each other's backs as they continued to fight off their attackers.  She tried to focus on his signature, over the others.  It was the only thing she could do, to know that he was alright.  For now, at least, he was coming through, loud and clear.

It wasn't much longer though, before she and Faith were pulled from each other, the creatures swarming in on all sides, claws tore at her body, while teeth snapped and gnashed all around her.

An angry scream came from somewhere off to her left, that she recognized to be Faith.  Something had hurt her.  But, seconds later, she heard many more screams from the same general side, that most definitely were not hers.  Whatever had happened to Faith, it only served to really piss her off.

Buffy was choking on the dust.  Though, their numbers were slowly dwindling, she had never been this close to so many vampires at once, and the feeling was making her claustrophobic and sick.  She tried once more, to reach out for Spike's signature, to grasp some familiarity in this writhing mass of the un-dead... Only to have her heart freeze up in horror.

It wasn't there.

He wasn't there.

Panic overtook her, and her demon instincts rose to the fore and took charge of her senses.  She struck out with animalistic force and speed in her anguish, her own desolate howls rising above the clamor which surrounded them.  No longer did her feet find purchase on the soft grass, sliding though inches of dust instead, as she dealt out her vengeance.

Faith had held serious doubts that they would survive this.  Looking around now, she noticed first that she could actually do so.  Secondly, she realized that they were winning.  It was un-believable...  But they were.  She looked to her right as an ungodly cry assaulted her ears.  She got her first real look at Buffy since this whole thing began and was so shocked at the sight of her, that she took a hard kick to the stomach which sent her sprawling.

'He can't be gone yet!'  Buffy's mind screamed over and over.  'I'm not ready for him to be gone yet!'  In the face of her fury, some of the vamps had chosen their skins over their hunger and fled.  She whirled about, mowing through the last remaining few that lingered too long in her path, searching with her eyes for what she could not find with her senses.  The vamps' vibes overwhelmed her.  She felt as though she were cloaked in them.

"They're running away!"  She heard Faith shout to her, but she paid her no heed.  Blood ran into her eye, and she wiped at it roughly, as she continued to search around her.  She whirled with her stake, snarling savagely as a hand clamped down on her shoulder, from behind.

The creature caught her wrist forcefully, before she could land her blow.  She narrowed her glittering eyes and looked up to the face of the creature who held her, the stake falling from her grasp, as they met shockingly familiar blue.

A thousand thoughts flew through Buffy's mind in that second.  The first was incomparable relief, followed by the realization that she tried to stake him.  But the most prominent was the understanding that she had tried to stake him because, amongst all the other creatures, she hadn't recognized him.  Under such great numbers, the signatures became one.  And that not only frightened her, it enraged the demon within.

Spike released his grip on her wrist after a moment, once he was certain that she saw him for who he was.  He was breathing heavily, glancing down at the ankle deep dust that covered the ground, quite relieved to not be part of it.

Buffy Summers - devoted friend, loving sister, and, self proclaimed, shoe-a-holic had shut down.  But the slayer hadn't.  The slayer was horrified at what she had nearly done.  And the slayer was determined that this would never happen again.

"I thought I had lost you."  She said, matter of factly, in a voice far detached from herself.

Spike tried his best to look casual.  He dusted off his arms, and looked around, nearly smiling at the vision of Faith lying on her back a few yards away, panting with relief,her hand resting over her heart.

"Take more than a group of undernourished, toothy wankers to do me in, Slayer," he snarked.  "I already tol' you, you're stuck with me."  He held his arms open in invitation and said, playfully, "I'm all yours."

Had he known what was really holding Buffy's reigns, he might have chosen his words a little differently.

Stepping smoothly into his embrace, she grasped his arms in a near crushing grip, rendering him temporarily immobile, her voice taking on a dangerous edge as she hissed, "I'm glad we agree," before pulling him down roughly and embedding her fangs, viciously, in his throat.

"Fuck!" Was really the only word he could summon.  His arms tightening, instinctively around her, although not knowing whether to hold her close, or pry her off.  The chit had gone completely off her nutter!  His thoughts ran the gamut and clashed against his emotions which all but rolled and swelled like the churning sea.

'This is not the way things go,' he thought.  'She's human.  She's a slayer.'  But, the sensation of her fangs tearing his flesh, the feel of his blood being pulled from him, left no room for doubt that, in this case, that is exactly the way things were going.  And he couldn't help but hope that she was truly ready for the results that her actions would grant.  He struggled weakly, then, dread filling him at the thought of her turning him away, when she realized, fully what she had done.

Her jaws flexed, sending another fiery jolt of pain turned ecstasy throughout his being.  Falling to his knees, he was only vaguely aware of the wetness collecting at his collar, of her nails digging deep furrows into his arms while she continued her inexperienced but savage assault.

"Mine!"  She snarled through her teeth, her verbal claim stunning him far more than her dominant aggression, causing his heart to swell in spite of his fears of future rejection, leaving him no choice but to answer her, in turn.  "Yours...  Always, Love."

Buffy's demon, sated for the moment at hearing the acceptance of its claim, slid into the background, leaving a stunned and horrified Buffy in its wake.

She quickly released her hold of Spike's arms, her demonic visage fading away as she scrambled back and took in the damage she had caused.

The world around her turned on its axis as her nearly forgotten dream sprung into life before her eyes.

Shaking, she looked up at Spike and gasped. The left side of his neck was torn and bleeding profusely. The blood poured out in small rivers to drip down onto the ground between them.

Spike blinked and looked down, almost shyly, before bringing his eyes back up to hers. A gleam of something different was replaced in them, and one side of his mouth curved into a sultry smile, still trying to put forth the face of bravado, even in light of the terrible thing that she had done.

Buffy covered her mouth as she gathered herself to her feet, shaking her head in denial of the words she already knew he would speak.

"Ladies first."

She looked around and spotted Faith, who was sitting up now, staring at the scene that she had created, in mute shock.  Averting her eyes from her gaze, she shook her head again, in disbelief, and backed away a couple of steps.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to Spike, her eyes filling with tears of shame, refusing to meet his gaze.  Her words of regret, although un-intentionally, sliced through his heart like a sword.

"I'm...  I'm just so sorry," she stammered, before turning and running back out of the woods, fleeing from the hurt and what she thought was betrayed look in Spike's eyes.

Spike hung his head and let his long fingers drag through his hair.  Despair gripped him in its grasp.  He knew she did not realize what she had done and could, therefore, not mean her actions to be cruel.  But, her intentions could do nothing to change the truth of what they told.  Spike was lost.

Running through the darkness, she was un-aware that the new pain that seized her heart was Spike's and not merely her own.  She was ignorant to the binds of her demon's claim.  The feeling of loss and separation urged her to turn back and race into his arms...  But, suddenly, she felt the icy grip of panic wash through her and was certain that he would reject her now.

So she ran...  Her silent tears evolving into hard choking sobs as she broke through the edge of the woods, still completely oblivious to the connection, while far in the distance behind her, Spike felt his heart fall and break into a thousand tiny shards at his feet.

It's Not Enough

By: Morrigan


A/N: Here we are again, one more chapter. Hope you all enjoy. :D As always, this was beta'd by the incomparable blacknblue2. Thanks a million, girl.


Disclaimer: All characters are still property of Joss Whedon and ME. Too bad. So sad.




Faith sat there on the ground, a look of silent disbelief plastered to her face as she stared after Buffy's retreating form, wondering what in the hell just happened.

As Buffy disappeared through the woods, Faith's eyes settled back on the huddled form of Spike, who was still kneeling on the ground where Buffy had left him. With an odd sense of concern mingling with her curiosity, she pulled herself, gingerly, to her feet and slowly made her way over to his side.

He said nothing, nor, did he give any indication that he was aware of her presence. Faith stood there for a long moment, taking in his condition, before she finally spoke.

"What did she do to you?"

When no answer came, she shifted a little, uncomfortable with the silence. Her eyes kept flitting back to the blood that continued to seep between his fingers, which were pressed against the left side of his neck. She found herself wondering if she had ever known a vampire to bleed so profusely. They were essentially dead, after all, with no real circulation. And, due to a vampire's accelerated healing, most of their wounds closed within a few minutes, when left alone.

Whatever Buffy had done, however, had prevented that. Faith suddenly found herself wondering what happens to a vamp if they are bled out, completely.

"Here, lemme see that," she said, at long last. Kneeling down beside him, she took hold of his wrist, and attempted to gently pull his hand away from the wound.

The feel of Faith's fingers against his wrist so close to Buffy's mark, pulled Spike out of his trance. His eyes flashed with anger, showing hints of gold. A warning growl rumbled from his chest as he snapped his head around to meet her eyes with his own. Twisting his blood slicked wrist from her grasp, he caught her hand in his and snarled, "Don't. Touch. Me," before releasing it, with an emphatic shove.

This all occurred within a matter of seconds, but it was plenty enough
time for Faith to see how much damage Buffy had caused, and her eyes widened further in horrified bewilderment as Spike turned away from her, once again.

"Damn!" She breathed, blinking and shaking her head while leaning back out of his personal space. "Girlfriend's gone crazy! She just tried to bite your fuckin' head off! Does that mean she's the bad slayer now?" Then, as an afterthought, she wondered aloud, "Am I the good slayer, now?"

Spike continued to stare out into the dark, away from her. Ignoring Faith's question, he whispered softly, "She's made her stake..."

"Huh?" Faith questioned while watching Spike draw himself up to his feet. "Stake? I hate to be the one to break it to ya, fly boy, that didn't come from no stake"

Still ignoring her, he stood up, rolling his shoulders as he slid completely into his demonic visage. Faith heard him speak, once more, before he began walking away. His voice casual and yet, somehow chilling, with a note of conviction.

"I think it's time I made mine."

---

"So Oz, You're really a werewolf?"

Kennedy had been dusting shelves and putting away books in the magic shop. Manual labor really wasn't her cup of tea, but if it meant getting to be close to Willow and having the opportunity to keep an eye on the new guy, she was all for it.

Rumors had been going around that Oz and Willow had been involved in the past and that didn't sit well with Kennedy at all. Certainly not in light of their current falling out.

She thought back to a conversation she and Willow had shared, when they first started their relationship. Willow had told her that she had been very serious about a guy, back before she met Tara and realized that she was attracted to women. But, he had left her. Cheated on her, and left her with a broken heart, only to return after she had found happiness with Tara.

Willow hadn't mentioned his name and, at the time, Kennedy didn't feel pressed to ask. But, if this was that guy, she wasn't happy about his being here at all. Not one bit. However, being the clever girl that she was, she had come up with an idea that could work in her favor. Kennedy had never been into men, but, if she played her cards *just* right, she could make Willow see Oz for the mangy dog he really was, and bonus... She'd see how much she missed and wanted her too! It was perfect!

"And I feel fine," Oz sang, quietly as he plucked out a melody on his guitar. He was sitting at a table with Willow and Giles. While they were looking through old texts, trying to find references to the Chosen one, and any prophesies concerning the bolstering of her power, he was busying himself, piecing together the song that had been stuck in his head for the last several days.

Seeing that he apparently either hadn't heard her, or just didn't want to discuss his race...? Heritage...? Whatever, she changed tactics and approached the table with a sweet smile.

"What's that you're playing?" She asked, thinking, surely, the topic of music wasn't taboo.

"It's R.E.M.," he replied, still focusing on his guitar. "Old stuff."

"Oh...," Kennedy answered, nodding her head. "Sounds cool..."

"Giles!"

Faith came stomping through the magic shop door with a bang, causing everyone to jump.

"That door is very expensive," Anya informed her, pointing at said door, which was standing open behind the panicky looking slayer. "If you broke it, I'm going to have to charge you, plus labor."

Ignoring Anya, Faith approached the table, her arms waving as she spoke.

"Giles, we have trouble with a capital T. Buffy's gone insane!"

When no one immediately replied, she continued hurriedly.

"Okay, see... Me, Buffy and Spike went out to find this preacher dude," She raised her hand as Giles gave her a stern look and began to rise from his seat, "Hold on now, watcher! Before you get all stuffy and start wipin' your glasses, you need to know it was all Buffy's idea, and you might want to be sitting down for the rest of this!"

"Sweet Jesus, what would make her want to do such a thing without consulting any of us first?" Giles asked. Craning his neck to look behind Faith and out the front door, he asked, "And, where is Buffy?"

"See, that's the thing," Faith countered, "We got ambushed. I mean
like, majorly. There were dozens of vamps, and we were out there in the woods, kicking some major ass, when I turned and saw Buffy going all vamp face on them!"

Faith paused as she noticed that no one seemed shocked at this news. Willow nodded and raised her eyebrows in expectation and waited for Faith to continue.

"What... You guys knew about this?" Faith queried, in exasperation. "And no one told me? Wait." she closed her eyes and put her fingers to her temples, counting to 5 in her head before continuing.

"Never mind, that's not the point. The point is, after we dusted the bad guys, Buffy freaked out and bit Spike! I mean *really* bit him, with the Grrrr!... And there was blood!... And... MINE! And then... She just ran off!"

'Finally, there's a reaction!' Faith thought. Willow and Giles paled, while Anya and Kennedy exchanged glances. Oz was the only one who didn't seem concerned. If anything, Dog boy looked kind of amused.

"Good Lord," Giles stammered, nervously. "Do you think it's an adverse side effect of the ritual?" He looked to Willow who shrugged and fidgeted in her chair. "We must go out and find her," he said, adamantly. "Heaven only knows what sort of state she's in."

Faith looked into Giles' eyes as she prepared to finished her story.

"That's not all, though. After Buffy left, Spike was all dazed and dreamy like, and he was bleeding like crazy. I've never seen a vamp bleed like that! But, he wouldn't let me help him. And then, he said something about a stake, and how he was going to get his too, and took off after her! So, now, they are both gone, and I can't find either one of them. But, I think Spike has some kinda sick death wish or somethin' because what she did to him, man... It was brutal!"

Repeating his words from a moment ago, Giles stood up, saying, "We had best find her then, before Spike does."

"I don't know what you guys are so worried about," Oz said, calmly. "Sounds to me, this could be a good thing."

"Oz!" Willow exclaimed, horrified, "How could you say that? How could Buffy going all Dahmer and taking a bite out of somebody ever be a good thing!?"

"When that *somebody* is a vampire," Oz explained, matter of factly. "A vampire who she depends on, more than she likes to admit. She didn't try to kill him." Oz turned back to his guitar, idly strumming its strings. "She claimed him."

"Oh... Good Lord," Giles' eyes widened with reluctant understanding. There were several kinds of vampiric claims - Claims for dominance, protection, etc. But the only one that Giles knew of that fell into the category that Faith had described was a mating claim. Only, as far as he was aware, such a ritual, being initiated by a human, was virtually unheard of. Not to mention the fact that the particular claim in question was usually quite...
ritualistic...

"Yeah," Oz piped up again, speaking more to himself than to anyone in particular. "I wouldn't want to be the one barging in on the scene, when Spike catches up to her. Better to let them settle this out alone, if you know what I mean." He grinned slyly, nodding his head and strumming along, much to the continued bafflement of the rest of the group.

Strumming the last chord of the song, he softly sang, "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine."

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, and glared at Oz in irritation, feeling that his song choice of the moment was highly inappropriate.

"Would you stop bloody singing already?!" Giles snapped, smartly.

Confusion was clear in Oz's eyes as he raised his head to meet Giles' icy glare.

"What?"

As Spike followed Buffy's scent through the woods and back onto the main road into Sunnydale, he had plenty of time to fume.

"Look at yourself, mate," he grumbled to himself. "You are a sodding wreck!"

"Bloody daft chit never listens. Doesn't give a piss about anythin' she's told. But, then, you already knew that, didn't you?"

He kicked a soda can across the pavement. It skidded and bounced several yards ahead of him, the tinny sound it produced did little to nothing to satisfy his frustrations, and seemed to mock him with its rattling clamor, which echoed in the street.

"What does she think? That I'm just going to shrug this off? Pat her on her daft little head and say, what's done is done? Pretend, in front of her chums, that nothin' happened?"

He found himself mildly surprised when her trail led him back to the house on Revello drive.

"Not bloody likely," he concluded, walking up the drive and through the front door.

He followed his senses up the stairs and down the hall to Buffy's room, telling himself that he was going to give her a good piece of his mind and possibly a long overdue thrashing to boot.

All of his worked up ire threatened to abandon him, however, at the site that greeted him upon throwing open the door.

She had changed into a camisole blouse and thin blue pajama bottoms and was sitting cross legged on her bed with her arms wrapped around herself. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. But instead of turning away, as he would have expected, she met his gaze openly.

Ever fiber of his being screamed at him to go to his claimant and ease her pain, before he reminded himself that it was her fault. She wasn't the one who was standing here, marinating in her own blood! She wasn't the one who had been claimed and ditched... No. He wasn't going to cave, this time. Not now. She might own him, body and soul, but the rules had changed.

"You," she stammered, her voice cracking and broken, "You're still bleeding."

"Yeah," he retorted. "I wonder why that is? Oh, wait... I remember. It's because you didn't finish what you started!"

Buffy flinched at the venom in his words, but continued to hold his gaze.

"I didn't mean to... hurt you," she said. "I was scared that you were gone, before... Something inside me said that I would know... That I would always know if you were alright if I-"

"So you claimed me so that you could have a permanent tracking signal on me!? Hell, why not just put another bloody chip in m' head! T'would hurt less!" Spike bellowed, pacing back and forth in front of the door. He knew that she was a little soft and selfish, sometimes, but he had never pegged her as being that cruel.

"Yes," she started, then, shaking her head, she amended, "No! I mean, I did it so I would know... But, I wanted to know because I couldn't stand how I felt when I thought you were gone! And..." She looked him up and down, noting the blood which quite literally, now, covered the whole front of his shirt and was seeping down onto his jeans.

Buffy pushed her hair out of her face and wrung her hands together as she continued, saying, "And, I don't know what you mean, when you say I didn't finish what I started!"

He stopped his pacing, abruptly, turning on his heel and marching to the bed, gripping her roughly by the shoulders, his ice cold fingers digging into her skin. Before Buffy could say another word, he had hauled her up to her feet, looking her in the eyes with frightening intensity.

Buffy's heart hammered wildly in her chest. Her instincts were on high alert. And yet, she could feel his fingers tremble from the blood loss as he held her there, and knew that his force of will was the only thing that kept him from collapsing.

"Time for decisions, Luv," He stated. You need to decide what you really want. There's no taking this back. You've bound me to you. And, now, my fate is yours."

"Spike," she whispered, "I don't understand-"

He chuckled, darkly, "That's the rub, though, in'nit? You really don't. So, let me spell it out for you. You claimed me as yours. Then you left. Claim wasn't finished. This.." He pulled her closer to him, the blood on his shirt now seeping through her blouse. "This is what happens. So, you need to tell me. What do you want? Do you want me, Buffy? Because, if you don't, I'll leave you be. It'll kill me to do it, but I swear that I will..."

The blood loss wouldn't kill him. He knew that. But, he had seen other unfortunate vamps who had been either starved, or left in this very state, and it wasn't pretty. Eventually, he would become nothing more than a living skeleton. Anything he tried to take in would simply pour back out and leave him with nothing.

However, that was the least of his concerns on this matter. To be
rejected by her now, after she had bound them together, was a pain he knew he could not endure. And yet, if she were to turn him away, he could do nothing but grant her her wish. But, he'd take a walk in the sun before he'd stick around to live with it.

While Buffy waited for Spike to continue, his grip loosened for a moment, and she watched as his eyes glazed over with an expression of fathomless sorrow and foreboding. Then, just as quickly, the look vanished and he tightened his grip again.

"But, if you do... Want me. Then you have to. Finish. This." He emphasized each word between clenched teeth and stared at her intensely for a few more seconds, before he released her, completely.

Buffy swallowed hard and struggled to find the words she wanted to say - To tell him that she didn't want him to leave, but all that came out was a stuttered, "H-How?"

Though, her question would implicate that she did, in fact, want Spike to stay, she was perplexed upon seeing another wave of hurt cross his features. He slowly shook his head as he answered her.

"Sorry. I'm not letting either one of us off the hook that easy, Pet. Somethin' inside of you tol' you how to start it. Reckon, if you want this bad enough, you'll figure out how to finish it, too.

His energy sapped, Spike staggered back a few steps and regarded her,
impatiently, certain that he was about to have his walking papers handed to him. He was determined that no matter how much it hurt him, he would keep his pride, and leave without arguing. But, Buffy's bewildered expression and trembling hands made it increasingly difficult for him to stay focused on that goal.

Awkward silence stretched between the two of them. It was only a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Taking her lack of response as her answer, Spike set his jaw and nodded tersely, in acceptance. Just as he began to turn toward the door, Buffy stepped forward.

One step, then two, she reached one trembling hand toward him, and he steeled himself against the rush of emotions that threatened to overtake him. He shook his head in refusal, not wanting her to break down the wall that he had spent the past hour building up. He just wanted to get out of this room with some shred of his dignity still intact.

He looked away, no longer wanting to see the regret in her eyes, and shuddered as her hand ghosted, tentatively, over the angry mark she had made.

"Buffy, Don't," he pleaded, hating the desperation his voice betrayed.

Panicking, he felt Buffy step in closer, her other hand coming to rest on his chest, unmindful of the gore that covered him. Finding himself helpless to resist her advance, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to allow her better access her mark, cursing himself for his weakness. If only she could understand how her tender actions would break him!

Spike brought his hands up to push her away. So, why was it that they were now holding her? Traitorous hands! Her breath whispered over her mark, and his own breathing hitched, piteously, in response. His forehead came to rest on her shoulder as her lips met his skin, placing feather light kisses over and around the wound.

Believing Buffy's actions to be nothing more than those of sympathy, and regret, Spike moaned, in spite of himself, at the sensations her lips caused. Then gasped in astonishment when he felt her tongue soothe over her mark.

His eyes opened, only to fall closed again, his vision blurred through tears he had fought so hard to hold back. She continued to lave over her mark, between kisses, instinctively nicking her own tongue with her fangs, mingling her blood with his and sealing the wound.

Although still weakened from the blood loss, Spike felt re-energized by the sheer joy of her acceptance. Never before, even before his turning, had he felt so alive.

"I do," Buffy began, between licks and kisses, "want you..." She let the statement hang in the air, as she peeled away his blood stained shirt and tossed it aside before she finished, saying, "To be mine. I was so scared," she continued. "I thought I had lost you forever."

Her reminder of what had led them to this point caused his mind to snap back into focus, his eyes opening and then narrowing, as he recalled his anger. Buffy's rash, childish and ill fated plan that he had told her was suicide, to begin with... Her stubborn refusal to heed any warning, thinking she was so high and mighty...

Reacting suddenly, with a burst of energy, Spike quickly spun them around, himself sitting on the edge of the bed and causing Buffy to squeal in surprise, as she found herself slung bodily, across his lap. Before she had time to voice any type of protest, he had yanked the back of her pj's and panties down to the tops of her thighs and brought his hand down forcefully across her exposed bottom with a loud, resounding, *SMACK!*