Come dance with me by Marianne



He had just enough time to register the pain and look down at his thigh where a barbed dart was imbedded, when he felt the dizziness and darkness fog his brain and he crashed to the floor.

When he awoke, he was in complete darkness that not even his enhanced senses could penetrate, unable to move his arms and legs, which appeared to be pinioned by metal bands. His surroundings seemed to be vibrating – no, rocking – and it took him some time to realise that he was in a small box; only just large enough to contain his body and that he was on the move. He tried shouting and struggling, but no one came. The darkness seemed to press against him and, for the first time since he had been sired, he was afraid of it. It brought back ugly memories of his human childhood, when his father had shut him in a small cupboard if he had been judged to be a “bad boy.”

He had no idea how much time had passed when a small hatch just in front of his face opened, and light suddenly flooded in, blinding him. A rough voice said, “Eat,” and a plastic pipe was thrust towards his mouth.

He turned his face away and shouted, “What the bloody hell is going on? Why am I here and where are you taking me?”

“Suit yourself.”

Before he could say any more, the pipe was withdrawn, the hatch slammed shut, and he was left to his own thoughts. The time passed and, just as he thought he was going to expire from hunger, the hatch was opened again and the pipe was pushed in. This time he grasped it between his teeth and sucked hard, the warm blood flowing into him, restoring his strength.

“Will you sodding well talk to me? Why are you doing this?”

But the pipe was withdrawn and the hatch closed with no response from whoever it was.

He lost all count of time but, just as he thought he couldn’t be hungrier, he was fed through the hatch. He stopped asking questions and trying to escape as a bad job - it got him nowhere. His fear grew as time went by until he thought that he would go mad. Finally, the vibration stopped and he lay quiet until he was shaken from side to side as the box was moved, his head banging against the walls. Finally, the movement stopped and a different kind of vibration started. He howled in frustration, having thought that he might be freed from his dreadful prison. The nightmare continued, punctuated only by feeding time.

At last, when all movement stopped, he was hardly in any state to appreciate it. Through the buzzing in his head he heard a scraping sound, cracks of light appeared and the lid was lifted. He had never been so pleased to see light in his life, no matter what awaited him. As his wrists and ankles were freed, he drew himself painfully to a sitting position and looked wildly around. He was in a small, windowless room that looked as though it had been hewn from rock; four burly men surrounded him, holding crossbows, the flickering of their torches making their shadows dance sinuously across the walls.

“Make sure our guest is made comfortable,” a disembodied voice commanded.

At that, the men unceremoniously tipped him out of the coffin, picked it up and left, slamming the door behind them. He lay sprawled on the floor only just able to contain his sobs of relief. It was dark in the room now, but, after that awful box, it felt almost like freedom. He spent some time trying to destroy the door, but the wooden layer he managed to dislodge only revealed the metal one underneath. He then spent some more time shouting, kicking, and swearing at it until he ran out of steam.

It looked like a store room, excavated from the bedrock. The walls were uneven and damp and he had examined every inch of them several times over, when the door opened and the same four men came in, this time armed with cattle prods. He glared at them.

“Where the bleeding hell am I? Why have you brought me here?”

The first man thrust the prod towards Spike’s chest and, with a yell and a searing pain running through his body; he fell to the floor, paralysed. By the time he recovered, they had handcuffed his wrists behind his back and drawn a hood over his head. They dragged him out of the room and down a corridor, thrust him into another room, uncuffed him, and drew off the hood. As they left the room, he looked around just in time to fend off a blow to his head from another vampire who seemed to be intent on killing him. Confused, he fought for a few desperate minutes almost losing the battle, but the other vampire was young and inexperienced, giving Spike the chance to wrench the stake from his grasp, and dust him.

“Bravo,” drawled the disembodied voice, “I enjoyed your performance.”

Spike looked around - there must be a camera in the room and speakers.

“And they call me a freak – is this the way you get your jollies? Watching others fight to the death?”

“I’m not interested in “others”, only you!” The voice came back.

“Why? Why the hell are you interested in me?”

There was no reply. When the four men came back in, he eyed the cattle prods and put up no resistance as they cuffed him, hooded him, and frog-marched him back to his cell. When they had released him and backed out, he found a container of fresh blood on the floor and he drank greedily, then he looked around, nothing had changed. It was still dark, damp, and depressing.

He was used to being lonely since Dru had left, but he had never felt so alone until this room. He wracked his brain trying to figure out why this was happening to him, as he prowled back and forth across the small room, four steps one way and four steps back, but it did not relieve his sense of aloneness. The only thing that helped take his mind off what was happening was to turn in on himself, shutting out his surroundings. So he slumped in a corner and began fantasising, rewriting history, where he was the hero, or, if he felt like it, the villain. He found that his fantasies about the Slayer were the best: where he rescued her and she was grateful, instead of loathing him and punching his face, or where he fought her and won, without the bloody chip interfering.

When next they came for him and took him to the other room, he was prepared for battle. This time it was a more experienced vampire and Spike was wounded several times before overcoming the other being. Groaning with pain, he was forced back to his prison and thrown in. He dragged himself over to the wall and sank into his dreams.

This became the pattern – the men would take him to what he began to think of as the battle room, and he would have to fight for his unlife. He fought all sorts of demons and monsters, each stronger than the last. His clothing becoming ragged and torn; it didn’t heal like his skin. He was allowed to recover just enough, before they would come for him again. The “voice” did not re-appear, and, although Spike was sure that he was being watched all the time, he didn’t care, he could shut it out.


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


When Buffy first heard about the Council’s all-expenses paid trip to England, she said “No! No way, never, never ever!”

Giles, who had received the phone call, was more cautious. “Well, they don’t seem to have a hidden agenda; they don’t even want to meet with you.”

“Come on, Buffy, at least listen to what Giles has to say.” Joyce said.

“Well, what do they want?”

“They emphasised that there were no strings attached – they say that they want to make it up to you, after the hard time they gave you.”

“Which hard time would that be? The time they nearly got me killed? The time they fired you as my Watcher?”

“It would be a good time to take a break – after all you have been through. Joyce is getting better all the time, and Willow can help her look after Dawn.”

In the end, she allowed herself to be persuaded to go. It was something she had always wanted to do, and, Giles was right, she needed the break. Leaving Willow and Xander with contact numbers and instructions for what to do if another apocalypse threatened, she hugged them and, smiling through sudden tears, waved goodbye.

The trip was everything she could have hoped for. They visited all the places that she had dreamed of, and the stresses and strains of the last few months faded. Giles was enjoying himself hugely too; he loved seeing the expression on her face when she saw the ancient buildings and the historical sites.

On the eighth day of their trip, Giles received a phone call. When he came back, he said, “We have been invited to stay at a private house near the borders of Scotland for the weekend. Apparently, you have a fan who wants to meet you.”

“I thought the Council was going to leave us alone!” Buffy said, angrily, “Just as I start to enjoy myself, they get all interfere-y!”

“He is not in the council; he’s just a supporter. His name is Sir Laurence Mills – he, apparently, was knighted for his services to charity – in fact, his family supported my training.” Giles felt uncomfortable admitting this to her. Should he let his gratitude dictate what they should do? “Look, we don’t have to visit if you don’t want to; we can keep to our original plans.”

Buffy felt guilty, she was behaving like a spoilt child.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland,” she smiled at him, wanting to smooth the worried wrinkles from his forehead. “We only have to stay the weekend, okay? There are so many places I want to see.”

“I’ll ring him back and emphasise that it’s for two days only.” He tried to keep the relieved smile from his face; he had always felt indebted to the Mills family, who had paid for his five years at the Watcher Academy.

They travelled by train, with the idea of hiring a car on arrival, but they were met by a chauffeured driven Rolls Royce and driven in style along winding country roads, past densely forested areas until, through a break in the trees, they caught their first glimpse of their host’s residence.

“This is a house?” Buffy gaped at the castle-like building as she got out of the car.

A man came towards them and, smiling, held out his hand towards Buffy. He looked to be in his thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes; she shook his hand and smiled back at him. “These places were built when the Scots sent raiding parties over the border in the fourteenth century. They had to withstand sieges that were quite long.” He explained.

“Then subsequent householders added to it as they needed to. I think they must have had big families; there are twenty three bedrooms at the last count!” He laughed, and ushered them into the large hall. “I’m Laurence Mills. You must be Buffy – you don’t know how long I have waited to meet the famous Slayer.” His eyes were glowing with enthusiasm.

“So, it’s not your ancestral home then?” asked Giles to fill in Buffy’s embarrassed silence.

“Good lord, no! My father bought this place around thirty years ago. It was a bargain, but in dire need of work. He was a self-made man, you know, made his money in scrap metal.”

He was a modest hottie Buffy thought – most men would have preferred to hide such lowly beginnings. She smiled up at him, “I’d love to see the rest of the house, er castle”.

“It will be my pleasure.” The house was huge. “We even have a ballroom,” he said with a chuckle, opening a door to a vast room with glass doors all down one side, overlooking the drive and gardens. “Although, there hasn’t been a ball held here in living memory.”

“It’s beautiful,” sighed Buffy, impressed in spite of herself.

“Much too big for me really, but dad liked it,” he said.

Buffy was shown to her bedroom, complete with an enormous four-poster bed, which she threw herself on to in delight. This was far better than she had ever expected. Laurence was very attractive, and she was looking forward to the next two days.

After dinner, Laurence outlined some of the places he would like to take them.

“What do you think? Would you like to see some places that are not on the tourist track?”

“Put like that, how can I resist?” Buffy laughed.

Giles smiled weakly, and said, “Yes, how could we resist?”

The next twenty-four hours went by in a whirl of visits and introductions. Laurence was an entertaining host who knew everybody who was anybody. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a good time. When Giles saw Buffy’s reaction, he also relaxed and started to enjoy himself.

The next evening, after a sumptuous meal at a local restaurant, Laurence said reluctantly “I’m sorry, my friends, but I have an important meeting at home. However, please stay on here if you like.”

“No, it’s all right; I need an early night anyway, since we’re leaving tomorrow morning.” Buffy stifled a yawn.

“Me too, I’d like to plan our next visit,” Giles agreed.

“Oh no, you can’t think of moving on yet!” Laurence seemed really upset. “You haven’t seen half of what I’d like to show you.”

“I’m afraid we will have to. We don’t have much longer in England and there’re still a lot of places on our visit wish list.”


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


He stalked into her back yard and found her sitting on the back stoop. He raised the sawn-off shotgun, but before he could aim it, he saw the glistening streaks on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Spike, I’m sorry that I said that you were beneath me. I was so tempted to kiss you then, that I said the first thing that came into my head.” Tears sparkled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. I’d do anything to make it up to you.”

Spike pulled her towards him with a growl, raining kisses on her face. “I’m sure I can think of a few ways…”

Rough hands pulled him to his feet, and the fantasy changed to accommodate. “I will fight this demon to protect you,” he muttered under his breath as his hands were fastened behind his back and the hood put over his head. He was still weak from the previous days’ fight and put up no resistance.


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


When they got back, Laurence asked them to join him in his office. “I thought you had a business meeting,” Giles said.

“I’ve had to change my plans, since you’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Laurence said slowly. “I have something to show you – I had hoped to explain all this to you tomorrow, but if you are leaving, now will have to do.”

He opened the door and nodded to someone outside. To Buffy and Giles’ amazement, a hooded figure in rags with his arms chained behind his back was dragged in. “This is William the Bloody, a vampire,” said Laurence proudly.

“What the hell is going on?” Giles couldn’t believe his eyes. “Why have you brought him here, and why is he in such a disgusting state?”

“Giles, let’s hear what Laurence has to say,” Buffy said calmly

“Slayer?” Spike whispered.

“It seems to know you,” Laurence said. “Have you encountered it before?”

“Yes, we’ve had a run in or two, but he’s always escaped until now.” Buffy said expressionlessly.

“This is the culmination of a lifetime’s planning!” Laurence pulled off the hood, and Spike blinked in the sudden light. “This monster massacred my family,” Laurence snarled.

“What? When did he do that?” Buffy asked.

“About a hundred years ago, my grandfather came back from doing an errand for his mother, to find his parents, his brothers and sisters – including his five year old sister Gertrude, who had hidden in the coal bin, lying in their own blood, their throats torn out. He never recovered from the experience and taught his son, my father, to hate this… thing and to promise to hunt it down and kill it in the most painful way possible!”

“How do you know that this is the vampire?” Asked Giles.

“A neighbour described the attacker, and, although it has changed its appearance, we have managed to establish that it was William the Bloody beyond all reasonable doubt.”

Buffy was staring at Spike listening to the story. He was staring blankly back at her, his blue eyes sunken in their sockets. Although she hated him, she couldn’t equate chips ahoy Spike with such horror, but had to admit that pre-chipped Spike could have, and would have, done such a thing.

“What’s this got to do with me?”

“Buffy, my father worked all his life for this moment. He slaved night and day to earn the money to afford the research necessary to track down this monster. He found out about the Council and poured money into the Slayer project. Tragically, he did not live to see it fighting for its life, and it has fallen to me to finish what he started.”

“What do you mean, fight for its - his life? You want me to fight him?”

“I’ve been training it for you; it will be a worthy opponent.” Lawrence walked over to a monitor and pushed play on the VCR. Buffy saw Spike fighting several monsters and demons in a series of edited “highlights.”

“No. There’ll be no public slayage for me. When I dust vampires, it’s one on one, no invites, no RSVPs,” Buffy was thinking fast, “If I do this thing, it must be in private, in a place of my choice, and this creature must be fit – and washed – he stinks!”

“Buffy! You can’t seriously be thinking of fighting him!” Giles spluttered.

Before he could say any more, Buffy butted in, “I’ll need talkage with my Watcher before I decide.”

“Of course, anything you say!” Lawrence was wringing his hands in excitement.

Buffy was wondering how she could possibly have thought him even remotely attractive, when a horrible idea popped into her head. “I hope there’s no cameras any place near me!”

“No, no! The only rooms that have surveillance equipment in them, are the vampire’s cell and the fighting room,” Laurence said hastily, “I wouldn’t do that to you!”

Giles looked about to say something, but before he spoke Buffy gave him a meaningful look and walked out of the room, into the garden. Giles followed. When they were a good distance from the house, Giles couldn’t control himself any longer.

“What do you think you are doing? You can’t possibly be entertaining the idea of fighting Spike, especially for that…that……” For once, Giles was at a loss for words.

“I don’t see an alternative, Giles,” Buffy said and then filled him in on her idea.

.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Back in his cell, Spike tried to make sense of what had happened – was it in his mind or had it been real? How had Buffy got there? Did they say that he would have to fight her? The questions spun around his head until he felt dizzy. So he did what he had become accustomed to doing – he forced the real world away and entered his fantasy world – sinking down into a corner and rocking back and forth.


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


Giles left the estate early in the morning while Buffy, smiling at Laurence, outlined her conditions for fighting with Spike.

“I have decided to fight him in the ballroom, when Giles gets back from town, with only you two there,” She told Laurence, who by now was willing to agree to any of her demands. “Giles will have a crossbow, in case the vampire decides to make a break for it.”

“I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me,” Laurence said, clasping her hand. It took all her willpower to keep the smile in place; she squeezed his hand and was amused to see him flinch in pain.

“I always find slaying stimulating,” she said to him with a meaningful look. “In fact, they are quite a turn-on,” she purred.

Laurence was still taking in the implications of this, when Giles came in. “Well, I’ve hired the car for the next leg of our journey, but I’ve been thinking that it would be as well to postpone our departure until tomorrow, to allow you to recover from the fight. Not that I expect it will take you long to dispatch him.”

“We can proceed as soon as you are ready,” said Laurence, eagerly. “As you requested, I’ve told the men to leave as soon as they have brought the vampire in.”

“Good.” Said Buffy. “There’s no time like the present.”

When Spike was brought to the ballroom, Buffy could see that he was wearing a black sweatsuit and looked cleaner. As soon as the handcuffs and hood were removed, the four guards departed as promised. Spike was swaying; blank-faced and looked, if possible, worse than the previous day. Buffy flew at him, raining blows and kicks to his face and body. He fell back, making no attempt to defend himself, and crashed to the floor. She knelt astride his chest, her hands around his throat, bent and hissed in his ear,

“Spike, can you understand me?”

He looked up at her, confusion clouding his eyes, “Slayer, is it really you?”

“Yes, of course it is, you idiot! There’s a car parked just outside. It’s got a blanket on the back seat, but to reach it you gotta look like you’re fighting me back – follow my lead.”

Awareness flooded his face, Buffy felt a surge of movement and then found herself flying through the air. She rolled to her feet, ran towards him, and, fending off his weak blows, kicked him hard in the chest making him stagger backwards into the glass doors which burst open. Spike got to his feet and sprinted to the little Audi, with Buffy and Giles close behind him.

Laurence expected them to capture the vampire and bring him back, but, to his utter amazement, they jumped in with him and the car shot off down the drive, gravel spraying.

Buffy looked through the back window. “Are they following us?” Giles asked.

“No, not yet – oh, yeah here they come, I just saw a car pull away.”

“I got the fastest car I could hire; I hope he hasn’t got a Porsche or something!”

Spike just lay on the back seat, heavy blanket over his head. He couldn’t quite believe that he was free, or who it was that’d rescued him. The road twisted and turned through the forest. Giles, who’d scouted the route that morning, turned into a small gap between two trees and they bumped along into the forest for a few hundred yards before stopping.

“Why’ve we stopped?” Spike wanted as many miles as possible between him and that dreadful place.

“We’re going to double back,” said Giles. Just then, they heard the pursuing car pass them and continue along the forest road. “I think we stand a better chance if we use the lane behind the house. Hopefully, they won’t have thought of that.”

“Hopefully?” said Spike incredulously.

“Look, you peroxide idiot! We didn’t have a lot of time to plan this. If you’ve a better idea, then let us know!” Giles snapped, starting the car and pulling back on to the road. He leant over and handed Buffy a map. “Here, I bought this at the car hire place. It’s the most detailed one I could find.”

She looked at it in confusion, never having seen an Ordnance Survey map before.
“Um, where are we?”

“Give it here.” Spike leaned over the back seat and pulled the map from her unresisting hands. The vampire surprised them both by navigating almost faultlessly down tiny narrow back roads. They got lost a couple of times, but Spike managed to get them back on track, avoiding major roads altogether. Finally, they joined a motorway and lost themselves in the traffic, heading towards London.

After several hours, Buffy needed a break and Giles had some phone calls to make, so they pulled into a service station. They decided that Spike would stay in the car; he was too distinctive with his bleached blonde hair and high cheekbones. In fact, Giles told him that he “stuck out like a sore thumb.”

Spike lay on the back seat, still covered by the blanket. He had shut down his emotions, but now he didn’t have to maintain the façade, they overwhelmed him. He found that he was shaking uncontrollably; he clenched his teeth and tried for control, but it was impossible.

“Hey Spike, I got you some coffee.”

He redoubled his efforts toward self-control, but to his dismay and shame he was wracked with harsh, dry sobs.

“Spike, what’s wrong?” Buffy got into the back of the car and pushed him upright. “What’s the matter, are you ill?”

He tried to tell her that nothing was wrong, to go away, anything to stop her witnessing his shame, but he couldn’t utter a word. Then, to his shock, he felt her arms go round him pulling his head into her shoulder, and she was rocking him back and forth, whispering soothing words,

“It’s all right; it’s all right, its okay.”

His sobs slowly eased, and he lay quietly in her arms, receiving the comfort that he so desperately needed. He looked up at her face expecting an amused smile or a sarcastic comment, but he saw only sympathy. It was almost too much to bear, and he took a deep unnecessary breath. “Thanks,” he said shakily.

Buffy felt that she was seeing him for the first time – the cocky, world-wise “Spike” mask he wore had slipped, and a more complex creature was showing through. She gently ran her finger down his cheek over the healing cuts and bruises.

“I didn’t know you could feel emotions like that.”

He smiled faintly at what she would think if she knew how much he felt for her, then his expression changed, “You won’t tell…”

“No, it goes no further,” she interrupted, and then said slowly, “Spike, did you do all those things he said you did?”

“What can I tell you Slayer?” pointing to his own chest. “Vampire,” he said matter of factly.

“Would you do it now, if the chip was gone?”

“Dunno. I always thought of humans as prey, you know – happy meals on legs. But now I have to deal with them all the time, and I can’t hurt them when I want to, I’ve even got to like some of them.” His heart lurched painfully as he longed to tell her again of his love. “Buffy,” he hesitated. Did he really want to know the answer? “Why did you and the Watcher risk everything to rescue me?”

“We couldn’t let Mills go on doing what he was doing to you, no-one deserves that.”

“Not even me, the creature you loathe and hate?”

“Not even you Spike,” she said with a grin. “Now do you want this coffee or not?”

He was reluctant to relinquish his place on her shoulder it felt so good, but he heard Giles approaching so he sat up with a sigh and took his coffee.

“I’ve been in touch with a couple of my friends, and one of them, Toby, has invited us to stay with him,” Giles said.

“Does he know Spike’s a vampire?” asked Buffy.

“Well, no – it’s not the sort of thing you discuss on a public telephone. But he’s an old friend of mine and thankfully very broad minded.”

“Look,” said Spike, “perhaps I’d better sod off now, save you all the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t be so stupid, if Laurence Mills can find you in a country the size of the USA, he’d have no trouble hunting you down here, and all that we’ve done would be wasted. Now shut up and let me drive,” snapped Giles.

Spike shrugged, and looked down at his clothing with disgust. “Does this Toby have decent clothes sense? He’s not a retired librarian too is he?” he asked suddenly worried.

Buffy stifled a giggle. Trust Spike to say the inappropriate thing at the most inappropriate time. They reached their destination in the early evening, all of them sunk in their own thoughts. “Well, here we are, and that’s Toby come to greet us,” Giles said wearily.

A rotund, middle-aged man bustled up to them and shook Giles’ hand with both of his.

“Rupert, how good it is to see you after all these years!”

Spike looked him up and down and sighed. Buffy nudged him and he closed his mouth on the sarcastic remark he was about to make.

“This must be Buffy and Spike,” his voice showed his amusement at their names, but his face was expressionless. “How do you do?”

Buffy shook his proffered hand and elbowed Spike in his already bruised ribs, until he also shook the man’s hand.

“Do come in. I have supper laid on for you – you must be exhausted after driving all the way from the Scottish borders.”

“Bet he won’t have any O neg,” muttered Spike, dodging Buffy’s elbow as they followed their host into the house. Over their meal, Giles told Toby some of their tale. He took the revelation about Spike remarkably well.

“Nothing you get up to surprises me, Rupert. Does he need to be fed now?”

“Excuse me, but he is here and can bloody well answer for himself!” Spike was indignant. Toby backed away, suddenly nervous. “And, yes, he does want to be fed now.”

Spike was enjoying the effect he was having; it was like an antidote to all the pain and suffering humans had caused him over the last few months.

“Spike – shut up.” Giles said sharply. “It’s all right, Toby, he won’t hurt you, he…” This time Buffy nudged Giles, and gave him a warning look. “He’s just tired, like we all are.” Buffy completed the sentence for him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Toby, but it was better that he know as little as possible about them, for safety’s sake. They discussed the safest way of getting a supply of fresh blood, without raising any suspicions, and it was decided that as Spike had fed that day, they would leave it until tomorrow, when they would be on the move again.

Giles and Toby were in the kitchen catching up on old times, while the other two sat sprawled in armchairs in the sitting room. As it was a small house with only three bedrooms, Buffy suggested that Spike sleep on the couch.

“Oh, great,” grumbled Spike, “no decent clothes, no proper food, and now I get to sleep on the sofa!”

“Stop moaning, it’s better than the place you’ve been sleeping in recently,” Buffy said wearily.

Spike looked at her. She was tired, rumpled, and not a little dirty, but she had never looked lovelier to him, and it took all his willpower not to grab her and smother her with kisses. Better wait ‘til my ribs have healed before I try anything like that, he thought to himself ruefully, knowing what her reaction would be.

“Yeah, sorry.”

She looked at him in surprise – was that a genuine apology? He was making a habit of surprising her and going against type.

“I’m going to have a bath, and, before you make any suggestions, no – I don’t want my back scrubbed, and I have been washing my own hair for years!” Buffy swept out of the room and up the stairs.



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


Spike woke with a searing pain in his fingers, and, for a second, thought he was back in his cell. He yelped and jumped to his feet, swatting at his smoking hand.

“What bloody idiot opened the curtains?” He yelled.

“That would be this bloody idiot.” He swung round to see a small, attractive, middle-aged woman in the doorway.

“Who the hell are you?” he snarled.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” she said calmly. “I am Hilda Norton, Mr Robinson’s housekeeper.”

“Oh, I’m sorry; it’s just that I’m allergic to sunlight,” he said weakly.

“Let me have a look at that hand. We should run it under the cold tap.” She took his hand in hers. “Oh, I seem to have the wrong hand,” she said lifting the other and looking at it closely, seeing no marks at all. She raised her sharp brown eyes to his blue ones. “I could have sworn that these fingers were burnt; but there’s no sign of blisters or anything.” He seemed to be having difficulty in meeting her gaze. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” she said curiously.

“What? What makes you say that?” Spike was amazed; he had never met anyone quite like this lady.

“I’ve come across one or two in my time,” she said calmly, “but I have some spells that protect me from your kind. You still haven’t told me who you are, or what you are doing here.”

When Buffy came downstairs in search of breakfast, she found Spike perched on the kitchen counter, laughing and talking to a small, capable-looking woman. For a moment, she was transported back to her own kitchen, with her mother and sister enjoying his company – which at the time she hadn’t understood – and she felt an emotion that took a moment for her to recognise: jealousy. What on earth had she to be jealous of? After all she hated Spike didn’t she? Buffy pushed the thought away and came into the kitchen. After the introductions were made, Mrs Norton began bustling around making breakfast; Buffy raised her eyebrows at Spike and motioned him to follow her out of the kitchen.

“It’s all right, she knows I’m a vampire,” Spike said casually.

“You told her!” Buffy was furious.

“Don’t blame him, dear,” Mrs Norton smiled at Buffy as she came through the kitchen door, “I guessed.”

At a loss for words, Buffy gaped at her. Spike smirked, “She’s a witch.”

“And you’re the Slayer,” Mrs Norton said slowly. “Well, well I never thought I’d meet a Slayer.”

Buffy was still having difficulty in forming words, “Wha... what gave you that idea – did he tell you that?” She glared at Spike and bunched her hands into fists.

“No, he didn’t have to. You have the aura.”

“I told you, she’s a witch,” Spike chanced another smirk, “she can sense aura and things.”

“Mmmm, can I smell tea and toast?” Giles came into the room. “What’s wrong, Buffy? You look like someone’s just hit you with a wet kipper.”

He had woken feeling a lot better and more optimistic, but after they introduced him to Mrs Norton, he was feeling worried again.

“Let me get this right. You are a practising witch? How long have you worked for Toby? Does he know about this?”

“Which question would you like me to answer first?” She seemed amused.

“I’m sorry, but this is a bit of a shock, I know Toby won’t have anything to do with magic…”

“It’s all right,” she smiled, “yes, I am a practising witch, I have worked for Mr Robinson for about two years, and no, he doesn’t know.”

“Who doesn’t know what?” asked Toby as he came through the door.

“Oh, we were just saying Spike doesn’t know how to behave properly in company. You just can’t take him anywhere” Buffy said blithely, oblivious of Spike’s glare. She continued before he could say anything, “Okay guys. Let’s plan!”

“I just have to pop out on an errand. It shouldn’t take me long. Why don’t you start without me and I can catch up when I get back.” Toby smiled at Spike nervously. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you, er, some of your special food.” He backed out of the room, and they managed to hold on to their mirth until they heard the front door shut behind him.

They started discussing things over the full English breakfast Mrs Norton had cooked them.

“How did you manage to get in and out of the countries you used to go to? You obviously can’t have a passport.” Buffy’s voice was muffled as she devoured the buttered toast.

“It’s quite easy to get on board a cruise liner as a visitor – Dru and I would find two passengers who looked like us and…” Spike faltered to a halt.

“Then you’d kill them and take their places.” Giles completed his sentence with disgust in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” Spike looked indignant, “we are vampires you know.”

“Well, it’s not going to happen this time – we have to find another way.” Buffy was oddly uncomfortable at the reminder of Spike’s reality.

“No, I wouldn’t harm any innocent bystanders now, even if I didn’t have this bloody chip in my head. I know you wouldn’t like it.”

Buffy looked at him in amazement, but, just as she was about to speak, Mrs Norton said, “Chip in your head?” So they had to explain the situation to her.

“Does Mr Robinson know about this?” They assured her that he didn’t, and she agreed that it was wisest to keep him in the dark. “I don’t know him well. He keeps himself to himself, but I think that he does like to impress people with what he knows, so the less he knows the better.”

“The first thing to do is to try and make Spike less conspicuous,” Giles looked pointedly at Spike’s hair.

Spike glared at him, “It takes a lot of time and effort to get it like this! I’m damned if I’m going to let you mess with it!”

Before they could get into a heated argument, Buffy said, “I dye my hair sometimes, so maybe I should try and, er, tone it down a bit.” Spike was so taken with the thought of her washing his hair that he let the matter drop, much to the others’ surprise.

“Can you get me some decent clothes?” he said plaintively. “I can’t wear this anymore...” he plucked at the tracksuit, at a loss for words to describe his disgust. Buffy grinned at him mischievously,

“I don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s black, isn’t that your favourite colour?”

There was a crashing sound, the door burst open, and Laurence Mills walked, in flanked by his four, armed bodyguards.

“Bloody hell!”

Spike leaped to his feet, looking ‘round frantically for an escape route, his pale face even more pale. Before anyone could move, he had leaped up on the kitchen counter and smashed his way through the window. As he landed in the flowerbed, his whole body flinching at the exposure to the sun, he realised his skin wasn’t smoking. In fact, it felt numbed. He didn’t waste time thinking about it but sprinted towards the trees.

“Get after it; don’t come back until you have it!” Mills was beside himself with fury, but the gun pointed at Buffy never wavered. “How could you help it escape? You are supposed to be a vampire Slayer, not a vampire saver!” he yelled at her.

Buffy said nothing, but just stood, arms crossed, glaring at him, the knowledge that Spike was probably dust at that moment making her feel ill. Mills produced two sets of handcuffs from his pocket and fastened Giles and Buffy securely to wait for the return of the vampire. Buffy surreptitiously looked around for Mrs Norton, but she had disappeared, giving Buffy a grain of hope.

The four heavies fanned out, methodically searching the wood. “He might have survived if he ran quickly enough into the trees, make sure that you look carefully, I’d hate to be the one who has to report that we’ve lost him!” Mills’ second in command, ordered.

Spike watched them, hoping that the dark clothing would camouflage him, but one of them spotted him. He took off running through the undergrowth, fending off branches and brambles as he went, a crossbow bolt narrowly missing him. With no need for oxygen, he soon outstripped his pursuers. He hid in a hollow under a fallen tree, thinking bitterly about how he’d like to rip out their throats if only he could. The hollow was a good hiding place. The men came near but never came close to discovering him as he lay there pressed into the mud. When he was sure they were gone, he made his way slowly and carefully back towards the house.

“There you are!” a voice said softly.

Spike whipped round with a yelp of surprise and fear.

“Don’t worry, dear, it’s only me.”

Mrs Norton beckoned him on, and he followed her to a small cottage some distance away. When they were safely inside, she looked at him quizzically

“Why were you going back to the house? Couldn’t you see that madman was still there?”

“I can’t just leave them there; I’ve got to find a way to get them out.” Spike paced back and forth in his distress.

Mrs Norton stared at him “Why do you care about them?” She looked at him closely, “Ah, I see, you love the Slayer.”

“What? No! I just can’t let them…” he ran out of words as the meaning of what she had said filtered through his brain. “Love her? No, of course not, I mean I’m a vampire…”

“And she’s the Slayer.” Mrs Norton finished for him with a smile. “Well, even if you don’t know it, it’s evident to me.”

“Wait a minute, how did you know how to find me? I know no one was following me, I was very careful.” Spike said, trying to change the subject.

“Didn’t you wonder why the sun didn’t burn you when you jumped out? I cast a protection spell on you when you leaped out the window. The same spell allowed me to find you. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You smell worse than a pigsty.” She pushed him towards the stairs and the bathroom. “Come on, strip off. I think that outfit has seen better days. I’ll see what I find for you.”

He stared at her, doubts and fears clouding his mind. Yet what option did he have, save to trust her? She’d looked after him so far, and he decided to go along with her plans for the moment. She showed no sign of leaving the room, so he stripped off his top and stood, flexing his muscles, smirking at her. She looked at the healing scars on his body and suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing and, for the first time, looked disconcerted.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I’d better let you get on with it.”

“What’s the matter, pet? Don’t you like what you see?” He raised one eyebrow at her, “You can’t say that I’m too young for you – I must be old enough to be your great-great-grandfather.” He said with another grin.

She collected herself, and, smiling broadly, said, “Spike, I don’t think you’ll ever be old enough!”

He looked at her agape; she had really taken the wind out of his sails. Then he roared with laugher along with her and felt better than he had for weeks.

"Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks."
-John Donne, "The Bait"

Chapter 2.


“How could you do it? It’s supposed to be your sacred duty to rid this world of scum like that – you helped that bloodthirsty monster escape.”

Buffy flinched as the words struck home.

“My father’s life’s work – my life’s work – all wasted. All the planning for so many years – I had the vampire in my grasp and you freed it! And as for you…”

Mills suddenly darted forward and smashed the barrel of the gun against Giles’ head, but before Buffy could react, had retreated to pacing up and down on the other side of the room. He continued his tirade as if nothing had happened.

“…my father paid for your education, your training, and this is how you repay his generosity! They had better find the vampire and bring it back, or, or – no they have to find it. I haven’t nearly finished its punishment!”

Buffy looked across at her watcher anxiously as he put his handcuffed hands to his face, feeling the extent of his injury.

“I’m all right.” He said unsteadily.

“I’m so sorry Giles,” she whispered, “if only I had dusted Spike yesterday (was it only yesterday?) None of this would have happened.”

“Rubbish!” He said shortly, “That would have meant lowering yourself to this maniac’s level.”

Buffy went back to watching the madman, waiting for any chance to attack him. She surreptitiously tugged at the chain binding her wrists together, but it stubbornly refused to break. They were both aware of the time passing; surely they would have found Spike by now if he had survived? Neither wanted to think what would happen if the vampire wasn’t returned.

The four men clustered outside the front door. One of them said, “Are we agreed then? We didn’t see the vampire after he crashed through the window, okay?” The others shuffled their feet and nodded. The first man took a deep breath and opened the door, and the muffled shouting suddenly became clear, “….. They have to find it. I haven’t nearly finished its punishment!”

They saw the girl and her Watcher, sitting on the couch on the far side of the room, both looking tense but unafraid. Mills was pacing back and forth waving a pistol in his hand, “Well Cahill, where is it?”

Cahill cleared his throat nervously, “I don’t think it survived Boss, we couldn’t find any trace of it and we scoured the woods good and proper.”

Mills gave an unearthly howl and swung round, “You will pay for this, you bitch!” brought up his hand and aimed the gun straight at Buffy.

The front door slammed open and a platinum-haired figure threw itself at the four guards, howling with rage and pain. Two of them went down, but the other two grabbed the newcomer’s hands as they clutched his head, and wrenched them behind his back.

“Spike!” Buffy gasped “Where the hell did you come from?”

Mills was crowing with glee, as he saw the vampire being held helpless and at his mercy.

“I always knew that vampires were stupid, this one is even more stupid than I thought – did you think that you could take all five of us?”

Suddenly there was a crash from the kitchen, and Mills motioned the two thugs that were not holding Spike, to go and investigate. He raised the gun again and aimed at the blonde, “I’ll make you pay for causing me all this trouble.”

“That’s not going to kill me, Spike managed a smirk.

“No I know it won’t, but it will hurt like hell.”

The millionaire squeezed the trigger twice and Spike was hurled back into the wall, along with the two men holding him. One of the men hit his head as he fell, the other was trapped under Spike, and Buffy took the opportunity to fling herself at Mills, who had allowed himself to be distracted. She chopped at his wrist, the gun fell to the floor and she kicked it towards Giles. She hit the madman on the chin with her two fists and he crumpled to the ground. Giles darted over and snatched up the gun, then started to search the fallen man for the keys to the handcuffs.

Buffy went over to where Spike lay, absently punched the guard who was trying to disentangle himself, and knelt by the vampire. His pain filled eyes were open and he smiled crookedly up at her, “Come dance with me and be my love.” He whispered, then his eyes rolled up and he fainted.

{“You think we’re dancing?”}

{“It’s all we ever do”}

“How lovely. Misquote, but still….”

Buffy gave an unslayer-like yelp and twisted round, her hand over her rapidly beating heart.

“Oh, I’m sorry my dear, didn’t mean to startle you.” The housekeeper smiled from the kitchen door.

Buffy recovered rapidly, “What happened to the two men who went into the kitchen?”

“Oh, I dealt with them.” Mrs Norton said calmly, and then saw the worried look on Buffy’s face and gestured towards the two unmoving forms on the floor, “Don’t worry, they are only asleep; it’s a very handy spell to have – used to work on Mr Norton when he came home from the pub on Friday nights, drunk out of his skull… but that’s another story.” For the first time Buffy saw Mrs Norton flustered.

“I think I’ll use it on the others, so that they only wake up when we want them to.” She said quickly and walked over to the two guards, mumbled some words and tapped them on the shoulder. Then she went over to where Giles was still searching Mills’ pockets, smiled at him and saying a few muttered words, touched the millionaire, who seemed to tremble for a second and then lapsed into snores. Giles grunted triumphantly as he found the key, and freeing his hands took it over to Buffy. She absently freed her own hands, and looked down at the semi-conscious vampire,

“We have to see to his wounds.” She said

“If you’ll help me upstairs with him, I’ll deal with that.” the housekeeper smiled at them, ”Don’t worry, I used to be a nurse – among other things.”

“That woman never ceases to amaze me,” muttered Giles.

Buffy half carried Spike up to the bathroom, gently helping him sit on the floor, with his back braced against the bathtub.

“Thanks, you had better go and help your Watcher plan a way out of this; I don’t think that even I can explain five unconscious men away!” Mrs Norton chuckled and ushered Buffy out of the door.

Buffy got half way down the stairs, before she remembered the cut on Giles’ head, so she turned and made her way back to the bathroom.

“Bloody hell, did I say that? I must have sounded like a right sodding poofter!”

Buffy hesitated outside the door.

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan, you stupid vampire – hold still, I’ll have to dig this one out.”

“I like to make an entrance luv, not that I don’t usually of course, what with my good looks and…. Owwww!”

“I told you to keep still. There I’ve got it. Do you want to keep it as a souvenir?”

“Oh yeah, souvenir of my lovely holiday in England, nearly getting killed every day for sodding weeks, yeah, I think I’ll have it framed.”

“If you had waited for a few seconds more, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I’d have waited a few seconds more, we’d have been short of one Slayer, and gained one royally pissed off Watcher!”

“Are you going to tell her you love her?”

“What!”

What! Echoed Buffy on the other side of the door.

“Do you think I’ve completely fallen off my perch? I tried to tell her a few weeks ago - she let me know in no uncertain terms what she thinks of me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve only loved three women in my long life, two of them told me I’m beneath them, and the other is totally loony – what can I say, I haven’t exactly got the best track record.”

“Don’t just try to tell her – tell her, what’s the worst she can do?”

“Uh, luv, she’s the Slayer & I’m a vampire – do I have to draw you a diagram? Anyway, she’s right, I am beneath her, she deserves better.”

“She actually said that? Well, and I thought she was a nice girl.”

Buffy winced, and then realised that at any moment, they would be coming out of the door. She shot downstairs, and was able to look as though she was just coming up them, when they appeared on the landing.

“Um, I was just coming up for something for Giles’ head,” she said feebly.

“Nice big brown paper bag would do it.” Spike smirked at her.

“Shut up Spike,” both women said simultaneously.

“Would you help him downstairs? I’ll clean up in here and then I’ll bring down a bandage for Mr Giles.” Mrs Norton said, placing Spike’s arm over the Slayer’s shoulders.

“Okay.” “There’s no need.” They said together.

Buffy tightened her grip on Spike’s arm, so that he had to accept her help or wrestle with her, and at that moment he felt so tired that he suddenly didn’t care, as long as he was able to sit down sometime soon.

When they reached the sitting room, Buffy helped the vampire to the sofa and he slumped down bonelessly, closing his eyes with a groan. She looked at him and felt a burning sensation in her chest, how dare he talk about her like that, and to a complete stranger? He couldn’t be in love, he didn’t know what love was, the soulless, bloodsucking, evil…

“Buffy, um, BUFFY!”

She realised that Giles had been trying to attract her attention for some time.

“Uh, sorry Giles, I was miles away.”

“Yes, I could see that. I have contacted the Council, and they….”

“What! The Council? How could you Giles? They’re the ones who got us into this mess - if it hadn’t been for them we wouldn’t have met that maniac!”

“Please listen to what I have to say, and then you can criticise.” He sounded so tired and angry, that Buffy was suddenly ashamed of her outburst.

“Yeah, sorry Giles, it’s been kind of a long day and I’m not patience girl at the best of times.”

“Yes, we are all tired. Anyway, as I was saying, I contacted the Council and told them that if they wanted to avoid a scandal, then it is in their best interests to help us to get Spike back to the States.”

“You don’t have to bother with me Watcher; I can fend for myself – maybe stay in the old country for a while.” Spike said in a monotone.

“Oh no, that was one of the conditions for helping us, they want you out of England as soon as possible. I told them about the contacts I have with a certain newspaper and mentioned to them that it wouldn’t look good for the Council to be tied in with a lunatic millionaire, who kidnapped and tried to murder a couple of tourists. They agreed and are going to sort everything out; I don’t think that we will get any more trouble from Miles. They will bring a coffin with them, because, as Spike is already dead, we thought that it would be the best way of getting him out of the country - as a corpse.”

Neither of them heard Spike whisper, “No.”

“They may want to take the lid off the coffin, just to check, but as Spike doesn’t have a pulse and doesn’t need to breathe, there shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“NO!” Spike yelled leaping to his feet. He was out of the door and running towards the woods, before Buffy and Giles could react.

Chapter 3



Slayer and Watcher stared at each other in amazement “What the hell is he doing now?” said Giles faintly.

“Dunno, but I suppose I had better go get him back, before he gets into more trouble.”

“Yes, I think the Council would take a dim view of us losing him again!”

Buffy ran down the path and tried to locate the fleeing vampire, “Where are you, you stupid creature?” she fumed. Catching sight of his white figure disappearing into the trees, she gave chase.

“Must get away, can’t let it happen – not again!” Was all Spike could think of, as he staggered away from the house, wrapping his arms round his chest, feeling the bandages dampening as his wounds started to bleed again. His legs felt like jelly, and his vision was darkening round the edges. “Not again, not again, not again,” went round his head like a mantra.

Suddenly, he was tackled from behind and he crashed to the ground, Buffy astride him on her knees, stake poised. She wrenched him over on to his back.

“What do you think you doing?” she snarled, “After all the trouble you’ve caused us, I should dust you here and now! Did you think we rescued you, just to let you loose in this country? Where do you think you were going anyway, you don’t know anyone here, you’d starve to death without us, you stupid, brainless creature!”

His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying, and she was uncomfortably aware of damp seeping through the knees of her jeans, where she was kneeling on the wet grass. She stared at him, rage and curiosity battling equally in her mind.

“Tell me what the hell you are doing,” she said venomously.

The vampire struggled feebly against her, “Didn’t know you could be such a bloody unforgiving, vindictive bitch. There’s no way you’re gonna nail me into a coffin, I’d sooner you stake me! Yeah, Slayer, do your precious sacred duty!”

He was so far into his rant, that he didn’t see her stunned expression. It was only when she pocketed the stake, grabbed hold of a handful of his hair and yanked his head off the ground, that he met her furious gaze.

“Unless you tell me now what the hell you are talking about, I’ll haul you back to the house by the hair, tie you up and give you to the Council!”

She realised that he was shaking - not with fear - but with laughter. She let go of his hair and his head fell back to the ground with a thud. He looked up at her, and suddenly all the humour in his expression vanished.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Huh? Who tell what – listen start making sense or…..”

“Mills didn’t tell you how I was brought here did he?” the vampire interrupted her.

“No,” she said uncertainly.

He gave a humourless smile and then told her in a monotone of his capture and transport to England.

“How long did it take?” Buffy asked in a faint voice.

“Dunno luv, I started counting the times they fed me, guessing that it’d be about once a day, but after 14, things started to get a little fuzzy and I kinda lost it, until they tipped me out at the other end.”

She shuddered, “they must have taken you by road and sea, for it to have taken so long.”

“Yeah, every time the movement stopped, I thought it was the end of the journey, but they only loaded me on to another mode of transport and it went on.” he said dully, “I even started to think I was a kid again, when father locked me in a cupboard….” He stopped, cursing himself for revealing too much, and looked up to try and gauge her reaction. She seemed lost in thought, and he felt a surge of emotion that almost overpowered him. “What’re you thinking, Slayer?”

She stared at him; he seemed diminished somehow, as if a vital part of him had been torn away. She realised that she was seeing under the “Spike” mask again to the complicated, complex creature that he disguised so well. As she watched, she was amazed to see his eyes fill with tears, her defences lowered and her heart went out to him in sympathy.

What was she doing? What about all the other vamps she dusted without a second thought, did they have feelings too? The thought was unbearable, how could she keep slaying? No it was better to believe what Giles, the books and the Council said about them – they are all killers, blood-sucking monsters who don’t deserve to “live” - she was only sparing this one, because he was harmless.

Suddenly realising that she was still kneeling astride him, she sprang to her feet, reeling slightly as the blood rushed from her head. “I’m thinking that we had better get back to Giles before he stakes you himself, for wasting time,” she said coldly as she stalked back towards the house.

Spike was chilled, for a moment it had looked as though she was on his side, and then just as quickly she became the hardened warrior, fully capable of forcing him to travel in a coffin, should she choose to do so. He hauled himself up and moved quickly after her.

“What’re you going to do?” he asked, trying not to sound afraid.

She stopped suddenly, and he almost ran into her. Without turning she said stonily, “we’ll find another way.”

He almost fell again, feeling weak with relief. He felt such a wanker, being frightened of a little girl and her Watcher. But he knew that she could take him with one hand tied behind her back at the moment, he was so exhausted. He followed her back to the house, where a very irate and impatient Giles waited for them.

“What the hell happened? Why did he run off like that?”

Spike groaned and lowered himself on to the couch. This was where his demeaning story was to be retold.

But Buffy only said, “We have to find another way to get Spike back to the States.”

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to tell me why we have to give up a perfectly good plan? I have had to resort to blackmail to get this vampire out of the country – the Council are not going to be best pleased!”

Buffy glanced over to Spike, who sighed and said, “Its okay Slayer, tell him.” So Buffy told the Watcher what had happened. All Giles said was “Oh” and sent an unwanted look of pity the vampire’s way.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Spike started.

“Oh, I’m wrong again – what am I wrong about this time?” Even Giles looked surprised at Buffy’s bitter tone.

“I was just going to say luv, that I do have friends here – they may be able to get me a passport. Course, you could always go back as planned, and I’d follow on when I got the papers.”

“Spike, I don’t think you realise how much the Council want to get rid of you. If you don’t go with us, I believe that they’ll send a disposal squad after you.” The Watcher sounded weary, but convincing.

“In that case, why would they bother with a coffin and all the paperwork that entails? I don’t think they have any intention of helping me – they’ll just stake me when they arrive and bingo, no more problem! Let’s face it Slayer, there would be sod-all you could do about it. They’d just be doing your job for you.”


TBC

Chapter 4


“Will someone please tell me why we’re taking all this trouble to help a vampire?” Buffy asked bitterly.

“Hey – I’m very useful to you! Got you all sorts of info you’d never have got otherwise.” Spike said indignantly.

“Yeah, and some really useful dollars for you too!”

“Haven’t been paid for weeks now!”

“That’s only because you haven’t been around for weeks!”

“You’re missing the point – “

“And the point being?”

“Children, entertaining as it is to hear you bickering all evening, I think we ought to return to the problem at hand.” Giles said bitingly.

“He is the problem at hand,” muttered Buffy.

“Quite. But having gone this far, I am reluctant to just hand him over to the Council – it would make a mockery of all we have been through, the last two days.”

“Thanks mate.” Spike grunted.

“Believe me, it’s not personal. I would have been far happier if Buffy had staked you years ago. Now why didn’t you think to tell us about your friends before?”

“Well, you seemed to’ve got it all under control, with your good friend Toby. He did us right proud didn’t he,” Spike said with a smirk.

Giles had the grace to look uncomfortable, “Yes, well, I’d had no real contact with him since college days, only the occasional letter and phone call, and he seemed genuine enough.”

“Look, this is getting us nowhere. Spike, where are these so-called friends of yours? How will you contact them?” Buffy said impatiently.

“They’re not exactly in the ‘phone book luv, but I know where to look. We need to go to London, Whitechapel to be exact.”

“Whitechapel!” Exclaimed the Watcher, “That’s not a very salubrious area.”

“It’s not on the tourist trail, that’s for sure – but it’s where I last had contact with them.”

“Isn’t that where Jack the Ripper hung out?” Buffy asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Spike said nostalgically.

“You were there? Ugh! Don’t tell me that you were involved!” Buffy said incredulously.

“Nah, I wasn’t much more than a fledgling then. Besides not my scene, all that torture and evisceration – I’m the direct sort, you know, see, hunt, kill, feed.” Spike said matter of factly. “Now Angelus thought it was fun, ‘specially the letters, he couldn’t wait ‘til they were published in the Daily News. Used to bore us silly reading them out and woe betide anyone who wasn’t paying attention.”

He missed Buffy’s sick expression.

“Y’know the reward for the capture of Jack was up to 500 quid – that was a hell of a lot of money in those days. I….” He suddenly realised that the room had gone quite still and both the Slayer and the Watcher were regarding him with disgust. “What? I told you it wasn’t me – I was totally controlled by Angelus, what he said went, and I got in a hell of a lot of trouble refusing to help him with his games.”

“Games, is that how you saw it!” Buffy yelled at him, trying to block out the images that Spike’s reminiscences had brought into her mind. She knew only too well what Angelus was capable of, having had first hand experience.

They all stopped short as they heard a sound at the front door, and only relaxed when they saw that it was the housekeeper. “I’ve managed to get you this.” She held out a flask to Spike.

“Thanks Hilda.”

He took it, quickly unscrewed the top and began to gulp the contents. When he caught the look of disgust on the Slayer’s face, he gave her a sour look and went upstairs to drink in private. They could hear him grumbling, “It’s not as if it’s the first time she’s seen a sodding vampire drinking, surely it’s better than taking it from the source.”

“I’ll get our things together, upstairs.” Giles followed after the vampire.

Buffy glanced at the housekeeper to gauge her reaction, “Sorry about Spike, we’ll take him away with us as soon as we can.”

“Oh, don’t apologise for him – I think he is rather nice.”

“Nice! You know he’s all vampiry don’t you?”

“Yes, I knew as soon as I saw him really – I just had to open the curtains a bit to make sure. He has rather colourful language, doesn’t he?” She laughed fondly.

“How do you know so much about vampires?” Buffy asked curiously.

“My brother was killed by one.” The housekeeper said evenly.

“Oh! I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be my dear; it was a long time ago, when I lived in London with my family. The experience made me what I am. I was determined to learn all about them, and to find some way to protect me and mine against them. So I learned all I could about magic and the like. I must say that I have never read about, or seen a vampire quite like him though. His aura is unique.”

“Aura?” Said Buffy uncertainly.

“Yes, it tells a lot about a person. Spike’s is dark of course, because he is, for want of a better phrase, a creature of the night. But it is shot through with green and gold – I have never heard of a vampire having a colour in their aura. He is very special.”

“Who’s special?” Spike was coming towards them, rubbing his eyes and smothering a yawn. “Thanks for the grub pet, went down a treat.” He handed the flask back to the smiling woman.

“Oh, we were talking about my brother.” The housekeeper said, shooting a glance at Buffy, who was still recovering from what she had just heard.

“Oh yeah. Live locally does he?” Spike asked politely.

“Come on Spike, stop asking stupid questions and get going. We’ve got a long way to go and not a lot of time.” Buffy said to distract him.

“I haven’t got anything to get together luv – what you see is all I got.” He smirked and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry,” Mrs Norton said, offering him a plastic bag, “I meant to have given this to you earlier.”

Spike looked inside, drew out a black T-shirt, and stood gaping at it. When he made no move to put it on, Buffy snatched it out of his hand and looked at the front. She started to laugh.

“That’s right, laugh it up Slayer – you haven’t got to wear the sodding thing!”

“What’s all the hilarity about?” Giles struggled down the stairs with a suitcase in each hand.

Buffy said nothing, just reversed the shirt so that Giles could read the front. There was a large cartoon simian hanging from a branch with the slogan “Urban Gorilla” underneath.

“I’m sorry Spike, that’s all I could find at such short notice,” Mrs Norton had a suspiciously wicked twinkle in her eye. “You go through clothes like nobody’s business.”

After they had forced the disgruntled vampire into his new shirt, and stored all their belongings in the car, they took their leave of the still chuckling housekeeper. She hugged a startled Spike and then said, “I have one more present for you, I hope you like this one better.” She gave him a small box.

“What’s this?” he said, his expression a mixture of wonder and pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given him anything. Unless you counted Dru’s gifts and they tended to bleed and scream a lot.

“Well, unless you open it, you’ll never find out.”

He slowly opened the box, and brought out a sliver coloured, engraved, metal band upon which hung a beautiful blue crystal, echoing the colour of his eyes.

“Come on, I’ll help you put it on.”

He obediently lowered his head and Mrs Norton fixed it round his neck.

“It’s a ward, isn’t it?” Spike asked.

“Yes, some of my best work, even though I do say so myself.”

“A ward?” Buffy said.

“Yeah luv, it stops people putting the mojo on me.” Spike put his hand up to his neck, wishing desperately that he could see what it looked like.

“Well, it won’t stop all magic, no ward can do that.” Mrs Norton replied, “but it will let you know when magic is present, and will stop some of the more common spells working on you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Spike said sincerely.

“You don’t have to. I’ve had more fun the last 24 hours than I’ve had for the last, well I don’t know how long.”

“Fun!” snorted Buffy.

“Yes, not a lot of fun for you I admit – being threatened with a gun is not one of life’s best experiences, but not a lot happens around here and I hadn’t realised how dull my life had become.”

Spike caught hold of Mrs Norton’s hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “If you ever find yourself in Sunnydale California, look me up and we’ll see if we can have some more fun.” He smiled genuinely, kissed her forehead, and got into the car.

“Well, I will echo the vampire’s sentiments,” Giles smiled and shook Mrs Norton’s hand, “here’s my card, if I can be of service to you at any time, please call me.”

Buffy looked at the older woman uncertainly, “Um, yes, well thank you. You saved our necks. I hope it doesn’t get you into any trouble.”

“I’ll be long gone before the people from the Council get here, and I will deny all knowledge of what went on. I’m just a simple housekeeper, don’t know anything.” She chuckled. “And don’t forget, I’m not the only one who saved lives today.”

Before Mrs Norton could say any more, Buffy shook her hand and fled to the car.

They hadn’t been travelling for more than five minutes, when the Watcher and the Slayer heard a noise from the back. They both swung their heads round and were met with the sight of Spike, sprawled out on the back seat fast asleep. “What’s that noise?” Buffy asked.

“I believe he is purring.” Giles faced forward with a smile.

“Purring! Vampires purr? Well, you learn something new every day.” She tucked this bit of knowledge away; you never know when something like that will come in useful. She looked forward to teasing him with it. Woah! Teasing him? Where had that thought come from? Now she had nothing to do, but think about what had happened over the last two days, and reflect upon what the housekeeper had said. “Special?” Spike is special? It’s not the word that she’d use for him, she thought – obnoxious, cocky, irritating – those are the words that suit him better!

Before she could stop it, a series of images of him rushed through her mind. Being held by Mills’ thugs, hands chained behind him, blank eyed and beaten. Sitting in the kitchen, laughing and joking with Mrs Norton. The look of sheer terror on his face, when Mills found them. Spike flying through the air, yelling with rage and pain, tackling 5 humans, his chip punishing him. Lying on the floor, bleeding from two gunshot wounds, quoting poetry. Lying underneath her in the wood, a look of – of; she forced herself to admit it – a look of pure love on his face for a second, until she wiped it off with her words The look of wonder on his face, when looking at the gift from the housekeeper. Mrs Norton said that he was different from any other vampires she had met, or heard of – perhaps that was her get out clause. It didn’t mean that she was wrong in slaying other vampires; they really were vicious, bloodsucking monsters. She leaned back with a sigh; I think I’m so tired now, anything seems logical.

Giles looked over at her, “We’ll stop for the night soon. I just want to get some distance between us and the house, in case the Council comes looking.”

“Do you think they will?” Buffy asked

“I think that maybe Spike was right, they would love to get their hands on him – they’d call it research I’m sure.” he replied grimly, “Using the excuse of getting him out of circulation, even though he can’t hurt humans. His chip is something they’d like to “research” at length. I don’t think even Spike deserves their hospitality.”

Buffy nodded, the thought of Spike in the council’s hands, was suddenly abhorrent. It would be out of the frying pan into the fire.


TBC

Chapter 5

“Come on Spike, wake up, we’re here.”

Growling, he tried to push away the finger prodding him in the chest. “Go ‘way, sleep now.” He said inarticulately. The finger renewed its assault, so he gave up and opened an eye, “Wha’?”

“I said wake up, unless you want to be toasty vampire, in which case get out of the car anyway, the dust will take a lot of explaining away.” Buffy poked him again.

“Bloody hell, couldn’t you find a parking space under cover!” Spike groused, as he crawled out of the back seat and stretched the kinks out of his muscles.

“Oh shut up, and get inside.”

Spike eyed her suspiciously, she sounded almost jovial – for the Slayer that is.

“Where are we?”

“Giles said we’re about two hours away from London. He thought it would be safer to stay here for a few hours to rest up, before we try to find your friends. Imagine – you having friends!”

Spike revised his earlier opinion, he must have imagined it. This was more like the attitude he always got from her. Mind you “friends” was pushing it a bit. He and Dru had left Whitechapel last time rather hurriedly, after a slight misunderstanding.

He walked into the small hotel and was guided by Buffy up the stairs, to a landing with two doors. He waited patiently for her to tell him which was his, and was surprised when she opened one of the doors, entered and beckoned him in. Well, life was looking up! He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Buffy pointed to a couch, “that’s where you’re sleeping. Giles found it cheaper to get a suite with two bedrooms rather than three singles.”

“Bully for Giles, I suppose he’s got the other bedroom!”

“He is paying for it!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot to pack my wallet before I started on my merry jaunt! And now I’ve get to sleep on a sofa yet again!”

“Spike, you were okay to sleep in the back of the car – I’m sure the couch is a lot more comfortable for a creature who normally passes out on a sarcophagus.” She gestured to a door, “That’s where I’m sleeping – and before you get any ideas – I sleep with a stake under my pillow.” And with that she swept into her room and closed the door.

He heard the snick of the lock and sighed, as he slumped down on the couch. Now that he had taken the edge off his tiredness, he found sleep elusive, and having the Slayer in the next room wasn’t helping.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes, arms outstretched along the sofa’s back. “Ah, Slayer”, he sighed, as a series of images of her ran through his mind. Her shocked look when the hood was pulled off his head, and she saw the state of him. (I thought I was dreaming). Her calm acceptance, when he had sobbed like a pouf in her lap, when he was expecting ridicule. Her indignation, when she thought he had told Mrs Norton what she was. Her shock, when he threw himself at the armed men. Her fury, when he ran away and then her look when he told her of his capture and transport. Just for a second, he thought he had seen – what? Understanding? Empathy? Sympathy even, but it had disappeared so quickly, he wasn’t sure that he had seen it at all. Then her look of disgust, when he opened his sodding great gob and told her about Angelus. Why bring Angelus into it at all? Sometimes he even disgusted himself.

He knew that he loved her more than his own unlife, more even than he had loved Dru – Why me? Suddenly, a terrible thought dawned upon him. Perhaps the behavioural modification chip did more than stop him hurting humans, perhaps it made him like them! He shuddered, that’s like a leopard liking deer, a wolf liking lambs! The thought sickened him. Why, he even found himself beginning to like the Watcher, and he was growing to love Dawn like a sister. Then his thoughts slipped to Xander Harris and he was immediately reassured – he hated that wanker! The only reason he still lived, was originally because of the chip and then because he was a friend of Buffy. Then he was picturing her again, only this time……..

He found himself lying flat, with his hands by his sides, paralysed, realising that he was back in the coffin, looking up through the small hatch. And suddenly there she was, standing above him, hammer in hand, giving him a look of cold hatred as she started to drive in the nails.

“It’s time,”

BANG

“you went,”

BANG

“back into the ground,”

BANG

“where you belong.”

BANG

He tried to scream, beg and plead with her, but he could make no sound, other than a pathetic whimper.

Buffy lay listening to the noises coming from the next room – what was going on in there? Perhaps vampires dreamed of hunting when they were asleep, like her auntie’s dog in front of the fire? Legs twitching, growling and whimpering while he chased dream rabbits.

She couldn’t remember Angel making any noises while he slept, but then there was no comparison between the two vampires. Spike always gave the impression of being slightly alien – there was no way that you’d mistake him for human, if you spent any time in his company. He was sublimely confident, direct, constantly on the move, full of nervous energy, his body angled, stalking about like the predator he was. Angel seemed much more human, easier to understand and cope with. But then of course he had a soul. She felt the familiar pain upon thinking of the souled vampire, and cursed Spike for stirring up feelings that she had safely stored away. But now she had started thinking about him, she couldn’t stop. All the defences she had carefully built up, crumbled away as she examined the relationship.

Angel was her first and greatest love. She had been so young, so innocent and the first night they had consummated their relationship, Angelus was reborn. She looked at those months full on for the first time – how incredibly painful and hurtful that time had been. She really didn’t know how she had survived. Now she was allowing herself to look at them dispassionately, she realised that the only way she had defeated the rogue vampire, was by making a truce with another one – Spike. Before that, every time she had had a chance of staking Angelus, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it, even when all the black, evil words were dripping from his mouth. She looked back and saw that Evil Angelus was so much more evil than Spike and that was before the blonde had the chip planted in his head. I like this world he had said, when all Angelus wanted to do was destroy it. When Willow did the spell to restore Angel’s soul and he found his way back from hell, he had been different. Not surprising perhaps, but when he had insisted that he leave for her sake, he had broken her heart all over again.

Perhaps there was something in what Mrs Norton had said about Spike, that he was different – no what had she said – special? And his aura having green and gold in it, not the usual dead black that would have been expected. Unfortunately that conversation had been interrupted and she hadn’t been able to ask any questions.

She laid thinking about how her life sucked, and now even her vacation sucked. Oh great, now she couldn’t sleep and she needed to pee. She got up and went into the bathroom. When she finished, she couldn’t resist the temptation of looking in on Spike and finding out what he was doing – I might regret this, she thought ruefully. Spike was lying rigid on the couch, occasionally twitching slightly and still making faint whimpering noises. She stopped and looked down at him curiously, he seemed to be having a nightmare not a dream and she fought the urge to lean down and stroke his head comfortingly. Nope, better leave that well alone – mustn’t give him the wrong impression, especially at night, when he was in a horizontal position. She had to admit there didn’t seem to be too much predator in him at the moment, more like a little boy lost. Woah, so not going there!

When Buffy woke the next day, she felt as though someone had lifted a heavy weight from her chest. She had been carrying all those feelings of guilt and sorrow about Angel around for so long, that she hadn’t realised how much they had affected her. As she got up, she began to hum, and as she showered she began to sing in a loud silly voice, dodging in and out of the spray and making a large puddle on the floor.

Spike was hunched on the sofa, his head in his hands. His eyes felt gritty and his body was stiff and sore. He felt as though someone had wrapped a large metal band round his chest, the feeling of tension was too much. He heard the Slayer begin to hum and then sing.

“Someone’s bloody cheerful this morning” he groused under his breath as he surged to his feet and began pacing up and down the room “I dunno what she’s got to be so sodding happy for.”

The English witch had treated him like a human, like a man, and he thought of her fondly. But she knew nothing about Buffy – just tell her you love her, indeed! He’d be lucky to get away with a broken nose. No she’d probably dust him, to make sure that he never said it again. For his age, he’d had no real experience of women. Hadn’t needed it, with his dark princess taking up all his time, and he didn’t think that Buffy would appreciate being treated like a mad vampire. He didn’t count the women that he had charmed, shagged and drained, usually within the same hour. They were nothing to him, and Buffy was everything.

“Oh, sodding hell!”

Buffy finished her shower, and heard movement on the other side of the door. She opened it and peered out. She saw Spike, walking towards the main door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked

“None of your soddin’ business!” he snapped back and then he looked again, craned his neck, and said in a different voice, “Are you naked behind there?”

“Don’t even go there,” she said as she closed the door to a crack and pulled the skimpy towel more tightly around her body, “in fact don’t go anywhere, I won’t be long.”

She dried and dressed herself quickly, and then heard Giles calling to her, “is Spike in there with you?”

“What! No, of course not.”

“Then he has done a disappearing act again.” Giles’ voice was filled with venom.

“I told him not to go anywhere, but when does he ever listen to me, or to anyone, come to that.”

She flung open the door and stormed down the stairs, beginning a search of the hotel. After about five minutes and a thorough search, she was about to give up, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A white blonde head appeared on the other side of the reception desk, he was busy looking around and, as Buffy approached, he picked something up and put it in his pocket.

“Spike, what do you think you’re doing?”

He swung round at her voice, but didn’t even have the grace to look guilty.

“Got bored, so I thought I’d have a look around. Hey!”

She had grabbed a handful of his shirt, and was hauling him round to the other side of the counter, and then she dragged him up the stairs.

He leaned back against her pull and said “Why don’t you get me a nice collar and lead luv, it’d save on the clothes.”

They both looked down to where her fist was grasping, and ripping, his shirt. She looked back at him with a glimmer of a smile, “A nice big bell’d be a good look for you, too.” With that she let go, and with a yelp, he tumbled backwards down the stairs.

“Ah, the feline grace of the predator,” she intoned in a National Geographic voice and broke into giggles.

As he lay sprawled at the foot of the stairs, he glared up at her furiously. She had never looked lovelier to him, even with eyes streaming and face contorted with laughter.

“Bloody hell Slayer!” he growled, but he couldn’t keep up the façade of anger, the laughter was so infectious. When she offered him her hand he could hardly see it through his own tears of mirth. They propped each other up as they made their way back to the room.

“I found him Giles.”

“I think the whole bloody hotel knows that you found him. So much for a low profile.”

They both sobered and looked suitably contrite.

“What’s wrong with you Spike, why can’t you stay in one place for five minutes?” Giles snapped.

“Well, I am the big bad you know. Evil.”

Buffy looked at Spike, snorted, and put her hand over her mouth to try and stifle more giggles. Spike caught her eye and they both collapsed into laughter again. Giles looked at them and against his will, began to smile and then chuckle, even though he had no idea what he was laughing at. It was good to see Buffy laugh again after the traumatic experiences of the previous day. Maybe he’d give the vampire the benefit of the doubt after all.

After Buffy and Giles had breakfasted, Giles went shopping and brought back some fresh clothes for Spike and three containers of blood. When the vampire had eaten and freshened up in Giles’ room, they checked out of the hotel.

“Ah,” said Spike, as they approached the front entrance, “vampire weather.”

The sky was grey and it was pouring with rain. Buffy and Giles exchanged long-suffering looks. “Well, we did have almost two weeks of sunshine”, said the Watcher consolingly. “Come on, let’s get Spike’s papers and we can get back to sunny California.”

Neither of them saw the apprehensive look Spike shot at them


TBC

Chapter 6

Spike slouched in the back of the car, a blanket draped over him, clicking his fingers and then tapping them on any hard surface he could find. He thought about what had just happened. First she had just laughed at him – well he was used to that - but then she laughed with him. What did it mean? What should he make of it? Was it a kind of flirting? If so, what should he do now? He stared at the back of her head, as if it could give him some insight as to what was going on in her mind and wondered what the bloody hell he should do.

To take his mind off it, he started to try and remember all the Ramones’ songs in chronological order, and then to sing them under his breath.

Buffy had the feeling that the vampire was staring at her, but didn’t want to turn round in case he was. If someone had told her that she’d be laughing with Spike, as if he were a friend, a couple of weeks ago – well even a couple of days ago, she would have thought that they were mad. She wondered what his next move would be, but judging from his previous behaviour, it would be something totally unexpected. Suddenly he started to sing, clicking his fingers and then tapping them on the back of her seat - oh he could be so irritating.

“Spike, settle down already!”

He then started to criticise Giles’ driving skills, and then trying to navigate from thirty-year-old memories and inevitably getting them lost.

“Is it me, or is he being even more obnoxious than usual?” Giles commented bitterly after he had stopped to scan the road map, “Or is that even possible?”

Spike seemed oblivious of their anger towards him, blithely humming and tapping away until they threatened to tie him up and put him in the trunk of the car.

“It’s called a boot, you morons – you should know that Watcher - boot, bonnet, accelerator, clutch, gear stick – huh! Americans never did learn the English language properly!”

They finally reached Whitechapel station and after some “discussion”, decided to leave the car there.

“Right then Watcher, get three tickets to the next station.”

“In which direction?”

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll only be using them to get on the platform. Was a time when you could get a platform ticket for tuppence – that was in old money,” reminisced Spike, “not that Dru and I ever bought one of course.”

“What is he talking about?” Asked Buffy in bewilderment.

“He’s talking about the dim and distant past, before decimalization of the pound,” explained Giles to a still puzzled Slayer.

“Come on you two, stop yapping and get a move on.”

Ignoring their glares, Spike headed to the station entrance, barely pausing while Giles got the tickets from an automatic dispenser. They followed him down the stairs and along to the end of the platform. Just as they thought that they would have to walk along the tracks, he suddenly turned sharply to his right and disappeared from sight. Buffy increased her pace and when she got to the place, she saw a doorway marked “Staff Only”.

“He must have gone in here.”

They opened the door, to find an impatient vampire waiting for them.

“What kept you?”

He headed off again at a brisk pace, leaving them to trail behind. He had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to find his way about in the tunnels, but now it all came flooding back and he remembered the last time he was here. That hadn’t gone too well – he and Dru had had to leave in a hurry, when she had brought home some still live “presents” for them. He had assumed he would never have to visit this place again. But the master forger called the Scribe had to be found, so that he could get the documents he needed to leave the country.

He could hear Giles puffing and panting behind him and he grinned to himself, but he slowed down to let them catch up.

Buffy saw Spike take something from his pocket, and it was only when he struck the match that she realised he had a pack of cigarettes in his hand.

“Where’d you get those from?” Then she remembered, “You took them from the hotel!”

“Saw them lying about, thought no-one wanted ‘em.” He said casually.

“You stole them from behind the hotel reception desk.” Buffy reached up and slapped the cigarette out of his hand.

“Hey! I haven’t got many left – anyway, serves people right if they don’t look after their things properly.”

Something inside Giles snapped, he caught hold of the vampire’s shoulders and slammed him into the wall. “It’s about time you told us what you are leading us into and where the hell we are!” He snarled.

Spike looked into Ripper’s eyes and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He hadn’t often seen the other side of the Watcher’s personality, and when he had, he had always come of worse.

“Okay, okay, “Spike said holding out his hands palm forward placatingly, “these tunnels, along with most of the underground railway around here, were built at the end of the nineteenth century. Along here aways there is a “ghost station” that was built at the same time but became disused around the 1930s. Its called St Mary’s – they used it as an air raid shelter during the Second World War, but since then, they kinda forgot it.”

“So the vampires took it over.” Giles murmured.

“Yeah, that’s right – it’s perfect. Tunnels leading all over the city and a nice big HQ with lots of rooms.” Spike smirked at them, “very cosy. The vamp that runs things around here, by the name of Karl, is a wise old bird. Wouldn’t let anyone bring back their kills, and made them all use different parts of town to hunt, so that this place has been safe for over 50 years. Now don’t you think you’d better let me go Watcher, people might start to talk.” He curled his tongue suggestively, and Giles dropped his hands from the vampire’s shoulders as if he had been burnt.

“Look, we can stand around here all day yammering if you want, but we have a way to go yet, and I, for one, would like to get this over with.” Spike strode away and the other two found themselves trailing along behind as before.

After a while, Buffy began to feel as though she was being watched; her Slayer senses told her that there were vampires about.

“Yeah,” said Spike, as though he had read her mind, “The guards have seen us. Now both of you play along, if you want to get out of here – there’ll be too many for you to fight, let alone kill,” he said warningly, as they were surrounded.

“Well, I’m glad to see that standards haven’t slipped since I was last here.” Spike grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets. Then, as it looked as though Giles and Buffy were going to be attacked, he said, “These humans are mine –“

“Spike! Is it you? Well, I thought we’d seen the last of you years ago!” A large dark-haired vampire towered over the bleached blonde. Spike looked at him thoughtfully and then grinned,

“Well, well, Chris as I don’t live and breathe! How are you mate?” and he reached up and slapped the other on the shoulder.

Chris grinned back at him and then gestured towards the Watcher and Slayer, “Did you say these were your humans? Since when do you have your meals follow you about?”

They started walking down the tunnel again, Buffy and Giles surrounded by a crowd of curious vampires.

“I’ve just come over from the States – it’s all the rage over there. You know they invented fast food? Well now they have food on the hoof!” Buffy and Giles were looking at him stony-faced. Spike had not had time, or inclination, to explain the concept to the humans, and was hoping that they would follow his lead. “Yeah, I’ve this thrall thing going, and they follow me everywhere. Handy for snacks and such like”. Before anyone else could speak, he said hurriedly, “So where’s Karl then, I – “

“You are out of date. Karl doesn’t rule here anymore, the boss is a vamp by the name of Gryphon.” Chris said soberly. “He managed to beat Karl, and it was the worst thing that could have happened to us here. Gryph let his minions bring back live prey, and they always used the same tunnels to go in and out of. It was only a matter of time before it was noticed. And now we have the Exterminators to deal with.”

“What the bloody hell are the Exterminators?” asked Spike curiously.

“London Underground got tired of having the reputation of losing passengers, so they have employed a company to rid themselves of the “vermin” in the tunnels. I’m using their term of course.” Chris added hastily. “When they thought that all they were facing were rats and the like, they were easy to pick off, and discourage. But lately they have brought in someone who knows a thing or two about vamps, and the tide has turned against us. We are thinking of heading out, and finding somewhere else to hang out.”

“First I need to do a little business with the Scribe, can you tell me where I can find him?” Spike asked quickly.

“Sorry mate, the Scribe was one of the first vamps to disappear. We’ve lost over half our number now, and it doesn’t look as though they will stop until we are all gone,” he sounded aggrieved.

Spike tried not to show his fury and apprehension - if he couldn’t get papers from the Scribe, then all this was for nothing.

They had entered a large space, Giles looked round and saw a faded sign on the wall “St Mary’s”, so this must be the “ghost station”. He looked round curiously, there were several groups of vamps who all looked angry or nervous. Someone from the back of the crowd called out, “we want to see Gryph!”

Spike’s apprehension grew; they didn’t want to get mixed up in an internecine war. He motioned to the two humans, and they drifted back through the growing crowd. Buffy looked back at him and gasped, “The crystal is glowing!”

He realised that he’d been feeling a vibration from the crystal, but had been too busy to process the information. He put his hand up to his neck and touched the stone – it was warm. “There must be magic about. Come on don’t let’s hang about here.”

Giles suddenly crumpled to the floor, and Buffy stumbled into Spike. “What’s wrong luv?” The vampire held on to the girl, as she seemed to struggle to keep her eyes open.

“It must be a sleeping spell or something, I can hardly keep my eyes open,” she whispered. “Help Giles.”

Spike lifted the Watcher easily onto his shoulder, and supported Buffy round the waist as they moved as quickly as they could, back towards the tunnel they had entered by.

The room had gone quiet, as one by one, the vampires had all fallen where they had stood. There was a shout behind them, and as Buffy looked back, a group of four men armed with cross bows had come through another tunnel and were shouting at them to stop.

“Quickly,” she managed to say through the growing clouds in her mind, “cross bows.”

There was a whirring sound behind them and Spike grunted as a bolt hit him in the back, just missing his dead heart. Another group of men appeared from the tunnel that they were making for, also armed with cross bows. Spike was trapped between the two groups, and did the only thing left open to him. He struggled towards the wall. Another bolt hit him in the leg; he staggered but did not fall. He reached the wall, propped Giles against it, gently pushed Buffy behind him and stood at bay, game faced.



TBC

Chapter 7



Professor Michael Mackness leant back from his crouched position over his computer with a groan. I must learn to stretch more often, he thought as he tried to rub the ache out of his shoulders.

He thought back over the last few years, to when he was a happily married man with twin boys and a satisfying job at the university. True, his peers rather looked down at him because of his research into demonology, magic and legend, but life had been good until five years ago, when his wife died, leaving him with two teenagers and not an idea of how to bring them up.

Well, he thought, I couldn’t have done a bad job - they have both gone to university. But that was when he realised how much he had relied on his wife to look after the finances. Sending both his sons to Cambridge was very satisfying but also very expensive. Money had become such a problem that he had reluctantly thought about selling the family home, and buying a much smaller house further out of London. Then out of the blue, a man had contacted him.

“Professor Mackness? My name is Martin Fraser, I saw you on TV the other night, and I was so interested that I managed to get hold of your book – “Vampires and demons – fact or fiction?”.”

Michael was a little embarrassed about the rather populist book, which he had been persuaded to write, as a way of raising some money. It had not been a success, had barely covered expenses and it had not been well received at the university either. Then when the first Harry Potter novel had been published, a BBC researcher had contacted him and asked him to come on to a children’s TV show, called “Blue Peter”. He had agreed and, since then, they had wheeled him out whenever there was a discussion on magic or demons.

A couple of days before, the BBC had contacted him again to talk about the new Harry Potter film. This time he managed to get a plug in for his book, hoping that it would get back into print, and earn him some much needed money.

He had realised that the man was still speaking. “I wonder if I could have a few moments of your time Professor. I think you can solve a problem for me about the disposal of certain, um, creatures.”

That was how it had started. Fraser had offered him twice the salary he received from his teaching job, research facilities and the incredible information that vampires not only existed, but that there were hundreds of them infesting the Underground railway system. All he had to do was to work out a way of ridding them of this “problem”. He felt as if his life’s work had been vindicated and the only blot on the horizon was that he was sworn to secrecy.

“If word gets out Professor – think about the panic it would cause – not to mention the loss of business for London Underground.”

So here he was, with an office larger than the Dean of the University’s and a small, but well equipped research facility. True, he couldn’t share his work or research with anyone else, but he had always been a lone wolf and it gave him such great satisfaction. The company employed a team of men who were paid well not to ask any questions. They were a bit rough around the edges – no who was he fooling – they were rough all the way through, and not a little stupid. But he was happier than he’d ever been, with actual vampires to study and catalogue, in fact they had brought him so many, that he’d had to stop the supply just recently, to give him time to catch up.

In fact that was why he was spending so much time crouched over this damned PC, there was an enormous amount of information to catalogue. He had discovered that the forehead ridges of each vampire were slightly different and was busily scanning in the digital photographs he had taken. At first he just used a few randomly selected vampires to keep for his tests, but he found that they seemed to either lose interest in living, or went mad when deprived of their food for any length of time, and even demons didn’t deserve to suffer that much. So now he asked for a fresh supply of the demons every few days, to enable him to cope with all the new information, and then had them disposed of. He had almost lost one of his “assistants” the first week, when a vampire tore through the bindings they thought were unbreakable, and he had to hastily bring in some reinforced steel manacles to restrain them, when he was taking measurements and samples.

He was shaken from his reverie, when someone pounded on his door. He frowned in annoyance, “Who’s that? I thought I told you that I was not to be disturbed.”

Johnson, one of the disposal team, popped his head round the door, “You told us to let you know if we saw anything special Prof. - well come and see this!” The man was practically hopping up and down with excitement.

Michael sighed, “OK, I need a break anyway – what is it? A new type of ….”

He was interrupted by an unearthly howling.



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



Hilda Norton had smiled vaguely at the tweed-suited men who’d knocked on her door. No, she knew nothing about any unconscious men at her employer’s house; she only worked there a few hours a week. She brightened up, what had happened? Were they burglars? Had there been any fighting? Was there blood? Could she come and look? They were uninterested in her questions and seemed desperate to get away after a few minutes.

When they had left, she’d collapsed against the door trying to stifle her chuckles. It was a shame that she had no-one to share the fun with, knowing that she could never tell anyone – not even her own coven – what had happened over the last day or so.

The next morning, she busied herself in the garden, garnering herbs and vegetables, and weeding as she went along. At last, a little tired, she made herself a cup of tea, and reflected upon all the events of the last couple of days - the three unique people that had come into her life. A Watcher, a Slayer and a Vampire, mmm sounds like the title of a bad novel she thought to herself, although who would believe a story like that!

The Watcher – there was a misnomer if you like – he couldn’t see what was happening under his very nose – or perhaps he just didn’t want to see that the vampire loved the Slayer. He was unusual, a Watcher who thought of his charge as his daughter, she thought uneasily. If he allowed himself to recognise the facts, then he wouldn’t hesitate to stake Spike. Well, all she could do was hope that Buffy would see Spike for what he was before that happened.

And then there was the Slayer, a beautiful, strong young woman who held the non-beating heart of the vampire in the palm of her hand. A classic case of denial if she had ever seen one. Though who was to blame her, after all it was what she had been taught – all vampires are evil, murdering monsters – and to admit to anything else was to deny her calling. If only they hadn’t had to rush off, perhaps I might have convinced her that this vampire is different from the blueprint, Mrs Norton thought sadly.

And then Spike, ah Spike, she thought, if only I were ten years younger (well all right twenty), she smiled to herself. The first time she saw him, she had known what he was, and her first instinct was to destroy him there and then. Then she saw his aura, and was absolutely staggered. No demon that she had ever seen or read about had colour in its aura, yet parts of this creature’s glowed. It left her wondering if she had made a mistake, so she exposed his hand to the sun, which had proved beyond doubt that he was a vampire. His first reaction should have been to launch himself at her and rip out her throat, but instead (after a bit of colourful cursing) he had apologised! And then he had engaged her in a lively conversation, only quietening when the Slayer had entered the room.

She had seen his face when he caught sight of Buffy and, for a second, the hard expression he used normally had slipped and his love shone out. She smiled ruefully and had to admit to a small shaft of jealousy, but they had made a magnificent, if incongruous, couple

Suddenly she gasped and doubled over in agony – was this what a heart attack felt like?
No, she felt a blade of pain in her back and another in her upper leg – she was sure that the left arm was involved in a heart attack, not the left leg. She muttered a few words and forced the pain down, examining herself for wounds or marks of any kind. She could see nothing, even when she stripped off in the bathroom and looked awkwardly over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. Then the pain faded into the background, and she almost sobbed in relief. Staggering into her bedroom, she lay down and tried to think what could have caused this. She must have dozed off, because she woke with an almost unbearable pain in her throat. She gasped and choked putting her hands to her neck – what the hell was going on? Then an unearthly howling filled her mind.


-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Buffy groaned, and tried to push away the hand that was shaking her shoulder.

“Buffy! Thank goodness you are awake.”

She opened her eyes to see a relieved Giles smiling down at her, and pulled herself up on to her elbows. She groaned again.

“The nausea and dizziness should stop in a few moments” he said reassuringly.

She looked around. They were alone in a large room with bunk beds around the walls, “Where’s Spike?”

“Oh, I expect he ran off at the first sign of trouble,” Giles sounded resigned.

“No he didn’t.” Buffy then explained to him what had happened.

“He carried me?”

“Yeah, and half carried me too. The last thing I remember was him sheltering us and trying to fight off a crowd of humans. Where are we? Have you looked around? Maybe he is in a different place?”

“Buffy, we have to face the fact that he is probably dust by now.”

She looked at him blankly, no that couldn’t be right – Spike no longer existed? Her heart clenched in her chest, and she found suddenly that it was difficult to breathe

“I won’t believe that until we have searched this whole place from top to bottom.” She said firmly.

Suddenly they heard a faint and unearthly howling.

Chapter 8


Spike slowly fought his way back to consciousness. He was immediately hit by a wave of agony, and he tried to plunge back down into oblivion, without success. The stench of his own blood mixed with burning flesh made him want to vomit. What the sodding hell was happening? He opened his eyes blearily, and discovered that the room looked as though it was swinging round him as if he was on a gimbal. He strained to sit up, but could only move his head. The gnawing pain was centred in his torso and neck; it felt as though his throat had been torn out. He lowered his eyes and looked down his body to the source of the burning in his chest. He could make no sense of it - something dark red and glistening poked through his skin.

He looked at the wall beyond his feet. Dozens of photographs of vampires, all in full vamp face, stared back at him. Most looked unconscious, some looked as if they were yelling obscenities or screaming in pain. Others looked passively into the camera, seemingly having accepted their fate, or perhaps beyond caring. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these fellow demons existed no more.

He turned his head painfully to his right and saw banks of electronic equipment, microscopes and computers. On a table next to him a tray of bloodied surgical instruments mixed with, bizarrely, implements that would not look out of place in a workman’s toolbox. All the necessary tools needed for vivisection, or whatever happened here. His first desperate thought was that the Initiative must have recaptured him, and that history was repeating itself – they were doing their “tests” on him. He couldn’t go through that again. Overcome with rage, he closed his eyes and howled out his terror and despair.

Suddenly, memory returned and his eyes snapped open. The object sticking out of his chest was the crossbow bolt that had hit him in the back when they were attacked in the tunnels, and it was now forced right through his body. He was bound to an operating table, metal bands restraining him, but he could think of only one thing.

“Buffy!”

The last thing he could remember, was trying to fight off several humans and failing, as his chip did its usual job of beating him down. His stomach clenched in fear. What had they done to his Slayer? He looked to his left and saw a man in blue overalls with the name “Treadwell, A,” on a badge pinned to the pocket.

“What have you done with Buffy you bastard? Where is she? If you have hurt one hair of her head, I’ll put my hand down your throat and rip your sodding lungs out! Buffy! BUFFY!”

The man hastily took up a crossbow, levelled it at Spike and yelled “Hey, Jeff – hurry up, this one’s going crazy!” The man’s obvious fear gave the vampire a deep glow of satisfaction.

Professor Mackness hurried down the corridor towards his laboratory, while Johnson puffed along behind. The incessant howling had been unsettling enough, but it was now replaced by an even more intolerable bellowing. The Professor shot Johnson an annoyed look, as they entered the room and he got his first glimpse of Spike, “My God Johnson, why is this creature conscious?”

“Sorry Prof., we hit him with two tranked bolts - I can’t understand why he is awake – that ought to’ve kept him under for at least another hour, plenty of time to get the blo...- darn collar off.”

Professor Mackness approached the helpless vampire and stared at the bloody ruin of its neck. The collar was just as Jeff Johnson had described: silver with strange etched markings and a beautiful blue crystal hanging from it. It was then that he looked down the vampire’s body and saw the bolt protruding from its chest.

“Why haven’t you removed this?” He gestured towards the bolt. The professor knew that these demons did not experience pain in the same way as humans, but nevertheless the pathetic creature before him was clearly in distress. Professor Mackness was surprised at how upset he felt – he hated to think of himself as responsible for causing even a vampire unnecessary suffering.

“We didn’t think it would take so much time to get the damn thing off its neck, so we didn’t bother, you see, the collar seems to have no opening – we’ve tried everything from bolt cutters to saws, but nothing even makes a scratch on it. Shame we can’t just saw off the vamp’s head, but then we run the risk of the collar turning to dust.”

The professor returned to his perusal of the collar, taking care not to get too near the demon – they were so unpredictable. He became aware that the creature was yelling something repetitively – it sounded like “buffy”.

“Who or what is a “buffy”?” He asked

“I am.”

The professor swung round and was confronted by an angry young woman and an older man.

Spike drank in the vision of his golden Slayer, her face creased into a scowl as she stood in the centre of the room, as if she owned it. Suddenly, all his pain seemed to vanish as relief and pleasure washed over him. That’s my girl!

“Where did you spring from? This is private property you know, you really shouldn’t be here.” The harassed professor tried to usher her out of the room. It was like trying to push against a concrete block. She just stood there and glared at him, arms crossed. She pushed past the professor and looked down at Spike. “Are you okay?”

“Oh great luv, just thought I’d lie here and model the latest in vampire shishkebab.” Spike croaked sarcastically,

She reached out her hand, meaning to remove the bolt when Mackness said, “My dear, I know he looks human, but please believe me he is a vampire, and if he were free, he would try to kill us all. Although, strangely, he seems to know your name - sometimes they use a thrall or charm to inveigle their way into people’s trust - I assume that is what has, er, happened here.” He faltered to a halt, the girl didn’t seem to be impressed by anything he had said, and in fact seemed to be getting angrier with him for some reason.

Buffy swung round and glowered at the professor, and Spike was glad that for once, someone else was at the other end of Buffy’s fury,

“Don’t be ridiculous! He wouldn’t hurt us.” She glanced over to a now grinning vampire. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he would never harm us. I know all about vampires, I’ve dusted more of them than you’ve had hot dinners, but this one I’ve known for years and he’s harmless. He has tried to kill me but it was a long time ago and he never even got close to it…”

“Hey! In the room here,” spluttered Spike angrily, “bleeding character assassination, that is! I’ve nearly offed you loads of times…..!”

“Shut up Spike,” Buffy said automatically, “As I was saying,” she frowned over at the vampire “he’s been helping me. In fact he couldn’t hurt us even if he wanted to”

Spike groaned, now she was going to spoil it all

“He has an electronic chip thing stuck in his brain, which zaps him if he tries to hurt a human.”

Spike would have covered his face in shame, had he been able to move. This was too much for any self-respecting vampire to bear.

Mackness watched the interplay between the young woman and the vampire with fascination, she and the demon seemed to have some sort of a connection, an easy – what was it – camaraderie? And the vampire’s expression seemed almost loving – could that be – no surely not.

Giles spoke up for the first time, “I must agree. This vampire doesn’t belong here, he was brought to England against his will, and we are trying to get him back home to America. He and Buffy …”

Professor Mackness gasped, “Surely you and he are not ….?”

“Eeew no! As if! Nothing like that.” Buffy said in a disgusted tone, failing to see Spike’s expression as it quickly changed from a look of hurt, to stony indifference. “He’s –“

Suddenly the room was filled with a bright, crackling energy and Buffy felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand to attention. A rushing wind blew all the loose papers into a swirling dance high above their heads and someone shouted “Look at the crystal, it’s glowing!”

All eyes turned to Spike, as a soft turquoise light pulsed around him. He felt a kind of warm comforting peace, and the raw pain that had been clawing at his throat faded away. Was this it? Was he on his way out? He lay as still as the corpse he was, the crossbow bold still protruding from his chest. With his eyes on Buffy, he waited for the end.

The sparking, crackling sound in the room began to grow louder and was accompanied by blue flashes of fiery lightning, blinding them with their brilliance. Just as Buffy was getting ready to move towards Spike, she was stopped in her tracks by a voice as commandingly powerful, as it was loud.

“RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!”

RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!

The deafening sound resonated powerfully against their breastbones, and Buffy was sure she could see the atmosphere quivering around them. The air filled with the smell of ozone, mixing queasily with the stench of blood. A figure surrounded in a fizzling, sparking blue glow floated towards them. The power in the room became almost overwhelming and the shocked humans found it difficult to draw breath.

Johnson shook himself, trying to rid his brain of the sudden cotton wool feeling, and reached for the crossbow lying on the table next to him. His fellow workman followed suit – sometimes a lack of imagination was a good thing. They raised their weapons simultaneously, but before they could fire, they both crumpled soundlessly and lay unmoving on the floor. Another gesture from the mysterious figure, and the shackles holding Spike motionless sprang open.

“Bugger me, you really know how to make an entrance, don’t you pet.”

As if Spike’s voice was an off switch, the magic suddenly left the room and the figure slowly sank to its feet. Buffy gasped as she recognised Hilda Norton. Who knew that she was such a powerful witch? The silence was broken by Spike, groaning as he raised himself to his elbows. “Got any more fancy tricks up your sleeve Hildy?”

“Well, this is another fine mess you’ve got yourself into, you silly vamp. And it’s Hilda not Hildy.” She gave him a tired smile, as the tension leached out of the room

Buffy stepped forward hastily and grabbed Mrs Norton’s arm, as the witch swayed and nearly fell. Spike pushed himself upright and, clutching his neck, dropped to the floor. Hissing with pain, he heaved the crossbow bolt from his chest, as Buffy helped the witch to a chair. Hilda sank down gratefully on it and Spike dropped to his knees at her side. Patting her hand awkwardly he said, “Are you OK pet?”

“I’ve never teleported so far before; I had no idea how tired I’d be. Anyway, you are the injured party here.”

Professor Mackness, who until now, had been gazing at the scene open mouthed, flinched as four sets of accusing eyes fastened upon him. Nothing he had read or researched, had prepared him for such an eventuality – he was completely at a loss.

“That was a disgusting, demeaning thing to have done – what do you have to say for yourself?” The witch glared at him accusingly. He stared back at her. At first glance she looked ordinary enough – around his age - petite, dark haired and rather attractive. If he had not witnessed her entrance for himself, he would have thought that she was a visiting businesswoman, or an executive.

He found that he was trembling with a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. She had to be a powerful sorceress; something that until now he had thought did not exist. But then a short time ago he hadn’t realised that vampires swarmed round the London underground system. What an opportunity for research. He realised that she was still waiting for his explanation.

“I don’t know what to say. Sorry seems to be inadequate under the circumstances.” Mackness was quite proud at how calm he sounded, then his voice cracked. “I always gave instructions that the vampires had to be unconscious if any, um, work had to be done on them. I had no idea that this was happening, and would have stopped it if I had.” The last was said in a rush, as he saw the cold stare the vampire shot at him.

“You are different from any other vampire I have seen – the others seem to be savages in comparison.” Nothing he said seemed to melt the ice in the vampire’s eyes. “What can I do to help?”

“Well, a first aid kit would be something.” The one called Buffy said.

“Oh, of course, um, yes, first aid kit.” He was grateful to have something constructive to do, that meant that he could escape the room for a while.

Giles had been watching him with something approaching sympathy, after all the professor had been ridding London of a scourge. He took pity on the man. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

They all heard Giles saying “There is no excuse for what was done to Spike – even he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

As Giles’ voice faded away, Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise – fancy the Watcher defending him. There would be winged porcines flying around next.

Now the professor had gone, the tension relaxed, and Buffy looked over at Spike and Hilda. The vampire had his head cradled in the witches lap and she was stroking his hair, whilst looking down in horror at his wounds.

How did those two get so close? Buffy thought. They had known each other for barely a day, and they now looked as though they had been friends for life. Why did the witch like him so much? She said herself that a vampire had murdered her brother – why was she treating this one like – like, well like a son? Chip or no chip, he was a cold-blooded killer who didn’t deserve sympathy or gentleness. So why did Buffy feel as though it should be she that was comforting Spike, instead of the witch?

The image of Spike placing her and Giles behind him, whilst he tried to fight off a crowd of humans against whom he knew he had no chance of winning. Why had he done that? She thought back to the conversation she had overheard, when Spike was confessing to the witch that he loved Buffy – well she knew that couldn’t be true, vampires were incapable of love, weren’t they? But then, Angel had loved her, she was sure. Buffy ground her teeth in frustration; she didn’t have anyone that she could talk to about this.

Spike realised that he was completely and utterly exhausted, but for once didn’t curse himself for his weakness. The witch’s hand stroked his hair rhythmically and he felt compassion and sympathy flowing from her, as she whispered inconsequential, comforting words only he could hear. No one, not even in his human days, apart from his mother, had treated him like this. The feeling was so good, he wondered how long he could make it last, before she tired of him.

All too soon, the Watcher and professor were back with the first aid box.

“Come on Spike,” Buffy said more sharply than she meant to, “get your ass up here and I’ll take a look at those wounds.” When he made no effort to move, she grasped his upper arm and started to drag him to his feet. The humans were shocked into stillness by his bloodcurdling growl.

“It’s okay,” Hilda said to him mildly, “it’ll make you feel more comfortable.” He allowed the witch to help him to his feet and, wrenching his arm from the Slayer’s grasp, heaved himself up on to the table with a grunt. While Hilda gently cleaned and dressed the wound in his chest and back, he glared at Buffy. What a difference there was between the two women. Buffy had looked both astonished and disgusted when it had been suggested that there might be a connection between them. She was like the bloody sun – burnt him with her touch, her words and her looks. All right, he decided, he would treat her like the sun, and avoid any contact.

“These men would never have been able to take the ward from you,” the witch was saying, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but the only person who can remove it is the person who put it on.” She put her hands up to his neck, but before she could take the collar from his throat, he stopped her gently.

“No, Hilda, leave it.”

“But I can’t dress the wound properly……” The witch started to say.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry – I heal real quick.” He wanted to keep any connection he could to her. “Is that how you knew I was in trouble?”

Hilda grinned at him, “When I felt the pain, I thought I was having a heart attack. I didn’t cast the magic for such a link – perhaps it’s because you’re a vampire or something. I really don’t know I’m afraid.”

“Doesn’t matter pet, I’m grateful for however it works. Got me out of a shitload of trouble.”

Giles cleared his throat, “Um, loathe though I am to break up this conversation, I really don’t think we should loiter here much longer. The professor has offered to take us to his home, so that Spike can recuperate.”

“Oh, yeah, got another operating theatre there have you? Get me all better so you can have another go?” Spike said bitterly. “I think I’ve had enough of your hospitality.”

The professor flushed and shuffled his feet nervously. “It’s the only way I can think of to make reparation for what was done to you…. ” his voice trailed off as Spike stared at him, grim faced. He swallowed hard, “My home isn’t far from here, and, and you are all welcome for as long as you like.”

“What about these two?” Buffy gestured at the unconscious workmen.

“I’ll make sure that they don’t remember anything about this when they wake up,” the witch promised.

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


After putting the workmen in the dorm room to sleep off the spell, they made their way back up to the surface. Spike was surprised to see that the sun had set. Bloody hell, he thought, he must be slipping not to have sensed that - mind you, he had been a bit busy lately.

Buffy reached out to lend Spike support, but he pulled away, insisting he could make his own way. Head high, teeth clenched, the vampire walked on rubbery legs alongside the witch. Every step was excruciating. He began to worry that he wouldn’t be able to maintain his façade of strength, if the wretched journey didn’t end soon. Just then, thanks to a short cut to the car park known only to Mackness, they were soon on their way.

The vampire sank gratefully into the soft leather upholstery and had to force himself not to nod off to sleep as the car made its smooth way along the London roads. Too soon they had stopped outside a large terraced house, which was one of many surrounding a small, landscaped area, which in its turn was surrounded by railings. He jumped as he heard Buffy gasp, his reflexes ready for battle.

“It’s like something out of “Notting Hill!”

“Not bloody surprising, since this IS Notting Hill, you stupid bint,” muttered Spike

“Be nice, Spike,” the witch said mildly, “Buffy has never been to this country before.” She pinched him before he could say anything else.

Spike rubbed his arm and smiled ruefully, “Yeah, sorry Hilda, I’m a bit knackered is all.”

Why the hell was he apologising to her, I’m the one he snarked at, thought Buffy. That stupid vampire was driving her crazy, one minute all over her and the next -

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard an, “Ah, hum.” She looked up to see Giles holding the car door open for her, studying her curiously. Everyone was heading into the house, except her. She quickly tried to look as though she was looking for a lost earring in the upholstery. Smiling weakly, she climbed out of the car and followed the others.

The house was a well-proportioned building, four stories high in the neo-classical style popular at the beginning of the 18th century. Buffy looked around with pleasure at the high ceilings and wood panelled walls. The professor showed them into the sitting room, telling them to make themselves at home. Spike chose the nearest comfortable chair and collapsed into it, instantly falling asleep. He was too tired to keep up the “master vampire” façade any longer.

Giles and Hilda volunteered to help with the cooking, and soon a delicious aroma crept into the room. Buffy contented herself with exploring the house, marvelling at the beautiful staircase and the huge rooms.

After they had eaten, the professor showed them the bedrooms. Spike chose one at random and sprawled gratefully on the bed.

Exhausted though he was, sleep evaded him and after half an hour of tossing and turning, he became aware of a low chanting sound and decided to investigate. He didn’t have far to go, the sound was coming from the next room. Hilda was sitting cross-legged on her bed, eyes closed as if she were meditating. Before he could retreat, she said, “Come in Spike.”

“Uh, sorry I’m interrupting you,” he mumbled.

“I couldn’t sleep either, it must be all the excitement – got my mind working overtime,” She smiled at him and patted the bed next to her. He raised his eyebrow and gave her a questioning look that made her laugh. He sat down, mirroring her lotus position. They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Then the witch stirred and, head on one side, she said, “Spike, can I ask you a very personal question? You don’t have to answer, just tell me to mind my own business if you like.”

“Ask away, Hilda.”

“If the chip stopped working would you go back to the hunt?” She had been turning this over and over in her mind, since she had learned of its existence.

He leaned back on his elbows and regarded her, his eyes glittering in the low light. His first instinct was to tell her what he thought she wanted to hear, but he owed her complete honesty. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think about the subject he had avoided for a very long time. The hunt – his heart hungered for it. The skill he had honed over the years, studying his prey, choosing the most beautiful female – just ripening into womanhood, and then cutting her from the crowd. And then the chase – ah, the chase. He could keep a girl running until she was desperate, frantic, giving off exhilarating waves of panic and terror. And when he decided the time was perfectly right - the kill. Her screams music to his ears, he would sink his fangs into her ripe, luscious flesh, feeling the hot, nectar-like blood flowing down his throat…….

He suddenly became aware of the room again and, forcing his game face away, he sat up and opened his eyes, to find Hilda looking at him with a sad but understanding expression. It cut him like a knife. He could cope with disgust, fear or hatred – after all, that was the only reaction that he’d ever had from a human. But this was different. Compassion. Caused him to feel all kinds of confusion. He struggled to make sense of his feelings.

The fact was, he hadn’t wanted to give it up, until now. The hunt. The killing. It had been his only reason for existence.

He realised that he had a better reason now. This woman accepted him as he was - none of this “you are an evil, soulless monster, you don’t deserve to live. You can’t love” Hilda was smart, powerful, and she saw him, really saw him. And she knew. She knew he could and did love. Soul or not. His confusion dropped away and he knew what to say.

“No pet, I wouldn’t. It’ll be good ol’ pig’s blood for me from now on, even if the chip does go west. Well, maybe I might nick some human from the blood bank, now and again.”

“What?” she said faintly. She had seen his expression whilst he had been “reminiscing” and how his instincts had pulled at him. She had been quite prepared for him to smirk and say, “What d’you think?” But there were only his crystalline blue eyes staring into hers, as empty of lies as a clear sky. For a moment, just a second, they existed within a space of complete understanding and trust.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Before either could say anything, the door swung open, revealing Buffy standing there holding out a steaming mug. Spike looked at her without expression, “What do you want?”

“I went to your room, and then I heard your voices” She looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. “I, uh, brought you some er, food. Where do you want me to put it?”
Sudden rage gripped Spike. She couldn’t even bring herself to call it what it was – blood. Every time she opened her sodding mouth she hurt him, and suddenly it was all too much. “Just put it down anywhere,” he said icily and turned away from her.

Buffy’s mouth opened and closed silently. She had brought the “food” for him as a peace offering, and he was treating it as if she had brought him poison. What else did he want her to do for goodness sake, get down on her knees and beg for forgiveness, when she didn’t even know what she’d done wrong? She stalked across the room and slammed the mug down on the dressing table, turned and left, closing the door noisily behind her.

Hilda watched the exchange wearily. When were these two going to sort this out? They were both so stubborn and bloody-minded!

Her thoughts were interrupted by Spike, “Can I ask you a question now Hildy?”

She smiled and said “Ask away, Spike.”

“I’m buggered if I’m going back to the States with that bitch. What would you think if I were to come and stay with you?” He said in his most seductive voice.

Her heart suddenly clenched. Had she heard him right?

Hilda stared at the vampire in shock – was this unique, deadly, exciting, unpredictable, beautiful creature asking to come and live with her? Thoughts tumbled round her head, making her feel dizzy.

Spike tried to read her face and, when she stayed silent, his expression hardened. Perhaps he had misjudged her, and she was trying to find the words to tell him no. He stood abruptly and strode to the door. “Yeah, well it was just an idea.”

He was stopped by a very unladylike snort. He swung round and stared at Hilda in astonishment. She was sitting, hands over her mouth with tears running down her face.

“Luv, what’s wrong?” He was immediately concerned.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, and he realised that she wasn’t crying but laughing. “I was just picturing my neighbour’s reactions if I brought home a handsome young man to live with me.”

“If?” He drawled.

She wiped at her eyes, took a deep breath and said, “When.”

His grin lit up the room like a beacon. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

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


Buffy lay staring at the ceiling, sleep the last thing on her mind. What were they talking about, she wondered, and why was Spike so cold towards her? She cast her mind back to the last time he’d had that “look” in his eyes. The melting, tender look that he disguised so badly. The look that she had started to take for granted.

It had been just before the witch had arrived and Buffy was trying to persuade the professor to let Spike go. Suddenly she remembered her disgust when Mackness had asked whether she and the vampire were an item. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, a conditioned response, but it had obviously hurt Spike. She kicked herself mentally. Stupid, stupid Buffy. Then something else occurred to her – why was she so concerned about what a vampire thought of her anyway?

She had a really nice, human boyfriend at home. Hm, nice, that was one thing that Spike was not. Was nice what she wanted?




Aren’t you hungry?” Hilda asked.

“Yeah luv, m’stomach thinks me throat’s been cut.” He deadpanned.

Spluttering with laughter at his pun, she reached over and handed the mug of cooling liquid to him. She watched him gulp it down, mind still reeling from recent events.

Spike looked at her over the rim of the mug. He was intrigued. He had met some powerful women in his long life, but none as powerful as she. Let’s face it, he thought, she could destroy me with a flick of her fingers. Sure, she was older than the females he usually wanted, but there was something about her, she saw him as he really was and was not revolted or frightened of him.

Hilda interrupted his musings by yawning hugely. “Oh, sorry – I think the day has finally caught up with me. I don’t think people realise quite how much energy spell casting takes out of a person.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, “Night then pet.” Smiling, he rose and left the room.

She sank back against the pillows and blew out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

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

The next morning Giles woke feeling pleasantly refreshed and cautiously optimistic. He and the professor had talked into the night about vampires, witches, magic and then several unconnected subjects. They both discovered the other’s fascination with research and compared notes about their respective university careers. All in all, a pleasant and relaxing evening.

A delicious aroma assaulted his senses, mmmm cooked breakfast he thought, as he made his way to the bathroom. He hadn’t had a decent breakfast since the witch had cooked them one at Toby’s house. He hurriedly showered and shaved and made his way down stairs.

Hilda beamed at him as he entered the kitchen. “I seem to remember that you like a full English breakfast Mr Giles.”

“The name’s Rupert,” he smiled at her, “yes please, I remember the last one you cooked me – absolutely delicious.”

She was humming under her breath and smiling to herself.

“You’re cheerful this morning, did you have a good night?” He couldn’t quite understand why she started to chuckle.

The professor came in from the dining room, “I’ve laid the table, have you got everything you need Hilda?” If anything her chuckles deepened, and the two men exchanged puzzled glances. “Yes, well, let me know if I can do anything to help.”

Buffy slowly closed her bedroom door and paused outside Spike’s door. She couldn’t fling it open as if she was entering his crypt; she didn’t want to piss him off anymore than she had already. She listened intently, but of course couldn’t hear a thing. It’s not as if he breathes, let alone snores, she thought. She just wanted to talk to him and see if she could get the “look” back into his eyes. Sighing, she gave up and went down stairs.

Sitting at the dining table, she picked at her food, trying to block out the others’ conversation. Giles and the professor were talking about some research that they had in common. Where was Spike? Well of course as a vampire, the daytime was his natural time for sleeping, but up till now he had slept during the night with the rest of them. She was missing him she realised with a start.

Giles looked at the witch obliquely. Why had he not noticed her smile before? It lit up her face and made her almost beautiful. No, he decided, she was beautiful, so full of life. He must have been too wrought up last time they met, to notice. Well it must have been something to do with being held at gunpoint, he thought wryly.

Professor Mackness looked at her with open admiration. This woman was fascinating, so powerful and yet she had been so gentle with the vampire. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” There was so much he wanted - no needed to know. He wondered if she would mind him recording her answers.

Hilda’s mind was in a whirl. How were she and Spike going to tell everyone? And how would they react? “Um, sorry? Oh, no I don’t mind – ask away.” She smiled at the professor and he grinned back

Suddenly Buffy couldn’t bear it any longer. “I’m going for a walk.” She stood up and marched towards the front door. Mackness called after her, “I have a key to the central gardens if you would like to look at them.”

As soon as Buffy shut the ornate, wrought iron gate behind her, she was in a secret, green world. The traffic noise was muted and she could hear the birds calling to one another. She wandered over to a bench and slumped down. Very “Julia Roberts” she thought, but without the benefit of a Hugh Grant. She knew that she would only feel better after she had had a long talk with Spike. And tell him what? How did she feel about him? She shook her head in confusion. Time for some serious thought.

It was getting near noon when she finally came out of her oasis of calm and made her way back to the house, mind made up. She would tell Spike that she would like to know him better, perhaps go on a few dates or something, she was unclear about the details. It didn’t do to make too many plans where he was concerned, because you never knew exactly how he would react to anything. She was feeling a lot happier now that she had made up her mind.

Just as she entered by the front door, Spike breezed down the stairs. Her heart did a little dance in her chest as she saw him. “Um, Spike can I have a few words with you.” She said a little breathlessly.

“S’allright Slayer, me and Hilda want a few words with all of you.” And he loped straight past her into the living room.

She stared after him, what was he talking about? She followed him and was just in time to see Spike go over to the witch and raise her hand to his lips. “Hey, Hilda, how are you love? All rested after last night?”

There was a hush and all eyes centred upon them. Hilda felt like a nervous schoolgirl after those ill chosen words – they might be misconstrued. Then she looked at Spike who was grinning maliciously at the others, obviously having a whale of a time. “Will you tell ‘em or shall I, Pet?”

“Tell us what?” asked Giles stiffly.

Not giving the witch time to reply, Spike said, “I asked Hilda if I could go and live with her, and she said okay.”

They all spoke at once:

“Oh dear.” The professor said

“What?” Giles gasped.

“Huh?” Buffy whispered unbelievingly.

“Yeah, well I’m sick and tired of you all treating me like a second class citizen. Hilda sees me and accepts me for what I am.”

“A murdering psychopath!” Giles shouted. “Are you stark, staring mad, woman? How has he made you do this? I can’t believe an intelligent woman like you could fall for his dubious charm.”

He would have continued to rant, but the witch held up her hand and said, “I’m surprised that an intelligent man like you, can’t get over your prejudices and see what he is really like. And for the record I haven’t “fallen for him” - I enjoy his company.” With that, she swept from the room and up the stairs.

“Whoo, she really told you, didn’t she mate!” Spike crowed, and smirking, followed the witch.

Buffy was numb. How could this have happened? Just as she made up her mind to let him in, he walked away – and with another woman, although she couldn’t take Hilda as a rival seriously. She must be old enough……. the thought trickled away, as the realisation of how old Spike must be, hit her.

A car had to be hired, and Hilda busied herself making the arrangements. Spike sat with one leg flung over the arm of the couch, seemingly oblivious to the heightened atmosphere. The only clue that the emotions of the other three beings in the room were affecting him, was the drumming of his fingertips on his thigh.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” Professor Mackness was anxious to interview this unique creature, before he vanished.

“You got nothing I want - unless you’d like to donate a couple of pints of blood?” Spike smirked, but his eyes remained cold.

“Look I’m sorry that we got off to such a poor start, I am trying my best to make reparations.” The professor was becoming desperate - he had been busy compiling a questionnaire whilst the vampire had slept. “Just a few questions, it won’t take long.”

Spike’s expression did not change, except to harden a little. “So, just a cosy little chat with the bloke that slaughters hundreds of my fellow vampires at a time, mmm let’s see.” He said, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

The professor felt aggrieved. “I think I found the most humane way of despatching them.” He said stiffly. “A spell to put them to sleep then a quick staking – they knew nothing about it.”

“Like shooting fish in a soddin’ barrel.” Spike snarled, “at least when she does for ‘em, it’s face to face!” He gestured towards the Slayer.

Buffy started, she had been trying to think of a way of begging him to stay, without there being any actual begging involved.

“Uh, Spike I want to have a word with you.”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

“You do?” her eyes were wide with astonishment.

“Yeah, something like ‘If you hurt Hilda, I’ll hunt you down and stake you good and proper.’”

“No, Spike, I…”

“Why can’t you believe I would never hurt her?” He was stalking up and down now, and throwing his arms in the air to emphasise his point. “Let’s face it, she’s more than able to defend herself – turn me into a purple earwig or something. And besides, I like the woman.” He threw himself back on to the sofa, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Buffy gaped at him, at a loss. What the hell could she say to that? How could she convince him in just a few minutes that her opinion of him had changed? She hadn’t really got used to it herself.

Giles gave up all pretence of reading the paper. He couldn’t believe Hilda was going off with the vampire, “I still think he has some hold over her, she surely wouldn’t dream of going off with a bloodsucking monster like him otherwise.” He said loudly.

“Giles, that bloodsucking monster risked his unlife saving you.” Buffy said shortly.

The expression on Giles’ face was priceless, a combination of astonishment and anger. He crumpled the newspaper, threw it down, removed his glasses and begun polishing them vigorously on his handkerchief, before striding from the room.

Spike couldn’t believe his ears, was that the Slayer defending him? He looked over at her, eyebrows raised. He saw that she was blushing. Now what the hell did that mean?

The professor, desperate to regain Spike’s attention, remembered something Giles had said the previous evening, about the reason for their visit to the underground. It might get the vampire to stay for a while. “I found some really interesting equipment in one of the underground rooms.” He said casually. “I think there might have been some kind of forging industry going on. I didn’t have time to look at it properly.”

Attention hijacked, Spike sat up. “What did you do with it? Is it here?”

“No, the equipment was too bulky to fit in my car. It’s still in the room where it was found.”

Spike subsided, “There’s no way I’m going back to that hellhole,” before Mackness could reply he continued, “anyway, I don’t need that stuff anymore.”

Hilda appeared in the doorway. “The car will be here in a minute. The hire place is only just round the corner, and I got them to deliver it right to the front door. It’s overcast, but we can’t be too careful - don’t want vampire flambé.”

Spike strode up to her, took her hand and swept her to the front door. “Well, we’d best be ready then.”

Hilda looked at him frowning, “Don’t you think we ought to say our goodbyes?”

He laughed mirthlessly, “I think mine are more like good riddances, luv.”

Buffy watched them helplessly; would she ever see him again? It’s my own fault she thought, if only I had seen what he was before.



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


It was fully dark when they finally reached the village. Hilda parked the car at the bottom of the narrow lane that led to her cottage, and they walked towards it in companionable silence. She suddenly halted and it was only his supernatural reflexes that stopped him from walking right into her.

“Damn.” She said quietly.

“What is it?” Spike crouched into a fighting stance. Extending his senses, he searched for the threat. Bloody hell, how had he missed the scent of so many human females? “Who are they?” he murmured

“My coven” she said thoughtfully.

“Oh, that’s all right then – isn’t it?”

She didn’t reply immediately, just motioned him to follow her. She made towards a small outbuilding at the bottom of the garden, opened the door and ushered him in.

He looked round the small room in bemusement. It was crammed with pots, baskets and gardening implements. Hilda cleared the top of a large chest in the corner and began to rummage around in it. She gave a grunt of satisfaction, as she pulled out a set of heavy iron manacles. He took a step back only to be stopped by the closed door.

“You’ll to have to trust me.” She whispered as she held them out to him. “I’m going to have to secure you before we go in there.”

“Bugger that!” He said pressed against the door.

She reached up to his collar and touched the crystal, which began to shine brightly giving the room an eerie blue glow. He was mesmerised, wondering whether this was how a rat felt when it was being menaced by a snake.

“You must do as I say.” She said simply.

He gaped at her – what the hell?

“Put these on.” She held the chains out to him again and he found himself complying. Spike watched his hands as if they belonged to someone else, as he meticulously fastened the cuffs on his own wrists.

“Come on, follow me.”

In a daze, he loped along behind her. When she opened the door and invited him in, he stepped in unhesitatingly, to be confronted by twelve pairs of hostile eyes, and a cacophony of voices.

“Hilda, where have you been…?”
“What do you think you are doing…”
“Why have you brought that thing here?”
“We’ve been really worried….”
“Hilda, how could you have brought that monster in here, after what happened to Steven?”

The combination of anger, hatred and magic swirling around him, was almost too much. It seemed float around his body, stinging him like a swarm of angry wasps. What the sodding hell was happening? He was seeing everything with extreme clarity, but seemed unable to move or speak. He hadn’t felt so vulnerable and weak since he was a fledgling in Angelus’s “care”. What was wrong with him? Why did he pick women who took delight in humiliating him? He found himself growling low in his throat.

“Spike, be quiet.” Hilda said softly, and then raised her voice “and everyone else BE QUIET!” The noise stopped abruptly. “Now tell me what on earth you are all doing here?”

A tall, thin woman spoke up. She had, incongruously, a high pitched childlike voice. “Did you forget calling a meeting? Surely you remember phoning me and telling me to let everyone know?”

“Then surely, Alice, you remember that I said we would not meet until Friday, don’t you?” Hilda said sweetly.

“Is this what the meeting’s about?” A woman about the same age as the Slayer walked forward and stared at the vampire. He stared back, only just keeping his game face under control.

“Listen everybody, I have driven a very long way and I’m tired. On Friday I’ll explain everything, him included – but until then you should all go home.” There was a general muttering and murmuring, but they all slowly obeyed.

Alice was the last to leave. “Do you need any help securing him? I have a very good immobilisation spell I can let you have.”

“No thank you, I have all the spells I need, as you well know.”

The woman glanced back at Spike, and he felt a momentary tingling, like a light electric shock in his chest and the crystal warmed against his throat. “Well, if I can’t be of any more help,” she said, “I’ll see you on Friday.”

Hilda locked the front door and slowly made her way towards the immobile vampire. He was glaring at her with golden eyes.

TBC

When Giles found her, Buffy was staring sightlessly out of the sitting room window.

“Ah, Buffy? Is everything all right? Not bad news from home I hope?”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Buffy had made her customary bi-weekly phone call to Sunnydale a few minutes before. “No, they’re all fine.”

[“Hey Buf! Me & Anya are just going to the mall – she’s seen some shoes that she can’t live without. We’re fine, no sign of Glory - you keep on with the vacation.”]

[“Buffy dear, I’m fine, no more headaches. You must be having a wonderful time, don’t come back on my account.”]

[“Hi sis, I hope you’re gonna get me a real good gift from London. Can’t talk, I’m going to the movies with Janice. See ya.”]

“Yeah, everybody’s fine.” She muttered.

“Oh, good. Michael said that we can stay here as long as we want. This is the perfect place from which to visit all London’s major museums you know. Natural History, V & A, Science museum.”

Buffy was looking at him with an expression close to panic.

“I’m joking.” He said with a smile. “Actually we are also really near all the good shopping areas and department stores here – Knightsbridge, Harrods, Dickens & Jones.” He was relieved to see her return his smile.

“You are so going to regret that “joke”.” She laughed, relieved that there was something to take her mind off a certain stupid vampire for a few hours. Retail therapy was just the thing.

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


Spike was standing where Hilda had left him, his chin raised, looking down his nose at her, and a low rumbling growl emanating from his throat. Why didn’t he say anything? Then it suddenly occurred to her. “Spike you are not under a spell.” She gestured and the manacles opened and fell clanking to the ground.

He slowly relaxed, not daring to take his eyes from the witch. He found that he was trembling and it filled him with rage. “So, I can’t be trusted around your friends eh? What, you think I’d savage them? Tear out all their pretty little throats? Put a mojo on Spike so he can’t hurt anyone!” As he took a breath to carry on his rant, Hilda broke in.

“There was no spell.” She said firmly.

“No spell?” He said in a dangerously quiet voice.

“It was for your own good. Do you think that if we had just waltzed in here hand in hand, everything would have been hunky dory?” Her voice was hard. “They would have reduced you to dust in a second – or worse! Do you know how rare vampire parts are? They are highly valued in spell casting. The coven might have spared you long enough to harvest them – and then poof!”

“Parts?” He echoed, reflexively clasping his hands in front of himself.

“Yes, parts that I’m sure you’d sooner not be without!”

She sighed, turned and walked away from him into the kitchen, leaning over the sink as if she was about to vomit.

Spike shook himself and followed her, slowly becoming aware of her distress. Her heart was beating erratically and her breathing was ragged.

“Then why couldn’t I move or speak?” He asked quietly.

“I just used the power of suggestion – you know, mind over matter. I needed you to look as if you were in my power. Worked really well didn’t it?” She said wearily.

He walked towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs across the back of her neck. “Bit of warning would’ve been nice.”

“No, they wouldn’t have been fooled – your reaction was perfect. I’ve never seen you so angry.”

She was trembling under his grasp. Now what did he do? What did she expect of him? He had absolutely no idea. He’d just have to play it by ear.

She suddenly straightened, took a deep breath and side-stepped away from him. “I’ll go and get the supplies from the car.” She said tonelessly.

Spike watched her go out the back door and sighed. A creature of instinct - an instinct that usually told him to kill and feed on humans - he felt completely out of his depth.


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


Hilda unpacked the cool-box and placed the containers of blood, which the professor had obtained, in the fridge. Michael’s sons had unknowingly donated some clothes to the vampire too. She smiled to herself as she remembered Spike picking them over disdainfully, finally condescending to accept a couple of pairs of faded jeans and some plain dark coloured shirts. She could hear the vampire was in the bathroom, so she put some of the clothes outside the door for him.

Lying in the huge old-fashioned bath, Spike had heard the witch re-enter the house. He thought he might give her a bit of breathing space – she seemed really on edge. But then she had lied, or at least misled, all her friends for him and he had been such a wanker about it. But how was he to know? It was all so confusing. He let himself sink below the hot, comforting water and thought about the last time he had been in her bathroom.

[“You can’t say I’m not old enough for you.”]

[“Spike, you’ll never be old enough!”]

And they’d laughed together. Things had been so simple then, she hadn’t meant much to him. Well, he’d been grateful for all her help of course – he knew that he would have been dust without her. Then she’d complicated things by giving him the ward, and on top of that rescuing him again! He knew what he felt was more complex than just gratitude. This human woman so wise, so powerful, actually liked and valued him. Grumbling under his breath, he got out of the bath and wrapped a towel round his waist. He found that she had left some clothes for him, which he slipped on. Wandering along the landing, he found the witch in one of the three small bedrooms.

“I’ve made up the guest bed for you.” She smiled briefly at him and then fled the room.

Well that answered one question for him – platonic it was then.

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


Hilda woke after only a few hours of disturbed sleep. A cup of tea she thought, that’ll soothe my jangled nerves. She got up wearily, wrapped herself in her dressing gown and wandered down stairs. After putting the kettle on, she made herself busy cleaning down the worktops, to keep her mind off the mesmerising creature upstairs.

She was shocked out of her reverie by a sharp knocking on the back door. Mind still whirling, she thoughtlessly unlocked and opened the door. Alice smiled thinly at her and pushed past into the kitchen, uninvited.

“The more I thought of you here all on your own with that monster, the more worried I got.” She said in that high pitched, irritating voice.

Hilda watched her helplessly, as she bustled in and out of each room.

“I know you think that you can cope with it, but they are such vicious, bloodthirsty creatures, I thought I’d better check to make sure that you are all right.”

Horrified, Hilda realised that the woman was heading up the stairs. At last her legs started to obey her and she swiftly followed. Alice peered into the bedrooms. When she got to the small guestroom, Hilda braced herself for what was to come. When the woman said nothing, Hilda peered over her shoulder. The bed was made neatly and no sign of vampire anywhere.

“Well, where have you hidden him eh?” Alice said, as if this was some weird kind of “find the vampire” hide and seek game.

They both heard a slight noise that came from above their heads. “Ah, the loft. Why didn’t I think of that?” Alice was off like a shot, putting the ladder in place and climbing up, Hilda close behind her. They both gaped at the scene in front of them.

The vampire, his toes barely reaching the floor, was hanging chained by the wrists to a rafter. He growled low in his throat and glared at them malevolently.

“I’ll just check that he’s secure.” Alice reached up and pulled at his arms, then put her hand up to his head. Spike felt a sharp tug and then she backed off. “I can see that you have this well under control. I was so worried about you, but now I can rest easy.”

Hilda felt faint with shock, but managed to escort the busy body out of the house and lock the door after her.

She made her way slowly back up the stairs and up into the loft. Spike still hung there, only this time he was expressionless.

“How the hell did you manage that?” Hilda said faintly.

He grinned and dropped to the ground, tossing the manacles carelessly into a corner. He curled his tongue behind his teeth and raised one eyebrow. “Must be mind over matter, or the power of suggestion luv.”

She stood immobile for a second and then strode forward and punched him hard in the chest. “You bastard!”

He laughed then and put his arms around her shaking body.

Spike held her until she was calm enough to make the journey down stairs. Once in the kitchen, he made them both a drink.

“Aah, nothing like a good cuppa tea.” Spike blew on the steaming cup appreciatively.

“There’s blood in the fridge if you want it. I can warm it up for you if you like.” Hilda smiled over at the vampire, trying to keep her cup steady enough to drink from it.

“You need to get your rest, my witch. Can look after myself – after all that’s what I’ve been doing for the last hundred odd years.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I must admit, I feel absolutely exhausted.”

“So what do you think that was in aid of? Alice usually that nosy?” Spike looked at her over the rim of his cup.

“Oh yes, and she has been competing for the leadership of the coven for some time now, I suppose she was trying to see if there was something dodgy going on here.” Hilda laughed humourlessly, “How the hell did I think I was going to get away with having a vampire to stay? I should have thought of a cover story to give them. Of course the coven was going to get involved – perhaps not as quickly as tonight, but they were bound to find out about you, sooner or later. I’m such a stupid woman.”

“Not your fault pet. I kinda invited myself didn’t I? Tell you what, I’ll just bugger off now – they can’t blame you – not after Alice checked my bonds and all.”

“No Spike, I won’t let them dictate what I should do. If you go now, you’ll be vulnerable. If I know her, she’ll follow and kill you. We’ll have to find another solution.”

They sat at the kitchen table, tea forgotten, both immersed in their own thoughts.

“Who’s Steven?” Spike asked suddenly.

Paling, she said sharply “How do you know about Steven?”

“Last night, one of the witches asked you how you could bring a monster like me into the house, after what happened to Steven. Got me wondering who he is.”

“He was my brother.” She said expressionlessly.

“Was?”

“Yes, he was murd… killed by vampires.”

Spike looked at her shrewdly “Weren’t going to tell me about that – why?”

“It happened a long time ago. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Well then, it won’t hurt to tell me now.”

Sighing she told him. When she was 11 years old, her adored older brother Steven went to university – the first to do so in her family. She persuaded her parents to let her go with them to visit him. She ran on ahead of them to his room. “I thought he was sleeping,” she said her voice quavering, “I shook him and he rolled over and all I could see was the blood.”

Spike looked away, “You don’t have to say any more.” He said quietly.

But now she had started to tell the tale, she couldn’t stop.

“I was traumatised for a long time and so were my parents. They split up a couple of years later and life was never the same after that. I started to “see” things. Mum thought it was my imagination, that I could see colours around people. And then when objects started to fly around when I got angry, she sent me to a mental institution. That sounds harsh, but she was so mixed up herself, that she thought it was for the best. I was there for a few months, and then discharged into my grandmother’s care. She was the saving of me. Apparently, she had been able to see auras when she was young, so she knew what I was talking about. Just having someone who believed in me, was such a relief.”

Spike nodded. He knew just what she meant.

“Grandma put me in touch with a group of women – some of whom are now part of my coven – and they taught me how to control my powers. I trained to be a nurse when I left school – it was either that or be a secretary. I never fancied office work, and I found nursing quite fulfilling. But the coven and the witchcraft were central to my life, and have been ever since.”

“You could have dusted me as soon as you saw me that first day. Why did you let me live?” Spike asked softly.

“Because of the colours in your aura.” She answered simply.

“Vamps don’t have coloured auras.” He said blankly.

“That’s what everything I have read, or heard about states,” she said with a glimmer of a smile, “but yours is shot with green and gold.”

“Is that why you wanted me here? To study me?” He could feel his chest tighten painfully as he waited for her to answer.

Hilda stared back at him. “I wanted you here because I like you,” she said, “as simple as that.” She leaned forward and patted his hand.

Spike looked down, suddenly finding the tablecloth fascinating, tracing the pattern on it with his finger. Then his head came up and he gave her a smile of such intensity, that she had to smile back.



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


Humming under his breath, Spike made another cup of tea to replace the now cold ones. When they finished, he helped the witch back upstairs and into bed, switching off the light as he left. When he was in his own bed, he thought back over the events of the night. He grinned as he thought about her reaction to his little bit of playacting in the loft and then his smile softened, as he remembered her words in the kitchen.

‘My friend Hilda’, he thought trying out the phrase. Friend. He thought back. When was the last time he’d had a friend? Never that’s when. He’d had acquaintances and colleagues when he was living – but no real friends. And since he’d been turned, not even that.

He didn’t care that he sounded like a bloody poofter. He felt a warmth and satisfaction when he thought about her. She wanted to be with him because….. bloody hell, he didn’t know why she wanted to be with him, he was just glad she did. He knew what he felt about her – admiration for her strength of personality and determination, respect for her power and an appreciation of her sense of humour. He found he was grinning like an idiot.

Eventually he drifted off to sleep.

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


Buffy regarded the many bags and boxes that were the result of her shopping spree. She just hoped that all the new stuff would fit into her luggage for the return journey, whenever that was.

Giles had been surprisingly good about trailing after her in the many stores she visited, even giving his opinion of several different outfits that she tried on. Only when it got late, he caved and asked plaintively if they could stop and have a meal somewhere.

Buffy had actually got through most of the day without thinking about Spike and what he and the witch were up to. Why did she care? She only knew that she did. Now that they were back, all the morning’s upset, disappointment and regrets came flooding back. Why the hell hadn’t she told him that she was slowly changing towards him? It would have been awkward (and god knows he could make things awkward), but it might have meant that he would have stayed in London. She groaned and vowed not to think about it again. Yeah, right!

She sighed and started to get ready for the evening at the theatre, that Giles had been so keen on. Perhaps it would give her a few hours of Spike-free thoughts.


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


He was walking through an endless series of caves, trying to find a way out. He could smell dampness in the air and suddenly he was engulfed in water. A burning sensation spread all over his body. He was swimming in holy water! Spike woke abruptly. What the hell? The room was filled with a ghostly blue glow and the crystal at his throat was warm. He tried to call out, but only a wail rose from his throat. Not abloodygain! As he pushed himself upright, he was aware of an increasing pain throughout his body. Then he was filled with terror. With one move he was out of the bed and pressed into the corner behind the table, crouched with his hands over his head, whimpering.

“Spike, what’s wrong?”

He vamped out and snarled at the newcomer. Was this where the threat was coming from? Should he attack? But his terror kept him cowering away from her.

“Oh, shit!” Hilda stared at this almost unrecognisable, wild creature. She began to mumble under her breath.

Spike knew that he had to get away. Away from this female. Away from this house. With a roar he pushed past her, bounded out of the door and down the stairs, only to crash into an invisible wall. He threw himself against it over and over, until a lassitude overtook him and he slumped down into unconsciousness.

Spike slowly came to. He seemed to be lying at the foot of the stairs, bones aching and skin sore. How the hell had he got here? Looking up he saw Hilda, who was sitting on the bottom step, looking at him worriedly.

“What happened? How’d I get here?” Then he remembered. The pain. The panic. The loss of control. It was still going on in the back of his mind. “Oh hell, didn’t hurt you did I?” He saw her rubbing absently at a large scratch on her arm. He slowly got to his feet and approached her.

“They cast a spell and it took away your humanity.” The witch said slowly.

He stepped back as if she had struck him. What was the woman raving about? He hadn’t struggled all these years to create and sustain a persona for himself, just for her to destroy it with a few words.

“Humanity? Don’t be daft woman – have you gone completely sack’o hammers? I’m a demon – no humanity here!”

“That’s not what your aura is telling me. It’s the only explanation that fits. Why you can love and care for people….”

“No!” he said desperately, “I’m a demon through and through – big bad! Evil!” He began pacing back and forth. This was when he missed his leather duster the most. Feeling it swing round him, heavy and – bad.

She carried on as if she hadn’t heard him, “The human part of you wasn’t completely destroyed when the demon entered your body,” she raised her head and stared deep into his eyes, “it’s still there and it’s slowly getting stronger.”

“You must be out of your tree.” Spike said roughly, “you haven’t had enough sleep, that’s what’s wrong with you.”

“All right, let’s not argue,” She said testily, “we have a much bigger problem on our hands – Alice and a couple of her cronies. What I can’t understand is how they managed to pinpoint you so accurately. For that they’d need something of yours – the more personal the better.”

“I think I might know what it is.” Spike looked at her thoughtfully. “When that scrawny witch was pulling at my arms last night, she put her hand on the back of my head and pulled some hair out. I just thought she was being vindictive…”

“She has some of your hair! Oh, no, that’s not good.” The witch put her head in her hands, and then rubbed her face tiredly. “We’ll have to get out of here as quickly as possible, before they try something else. I have added a stronger protection spell to the ward, but it’s not going to last forever.”

She hurriedly washed, dressed and gathered together some spell ingredients, put them in a shoulder bag then collected his blood from the fridge. Spike watched her move about, feeling somewhat helpless. He could still feel the effects of the magic - pain, terror - but the protection spell was keeping it in the background of his mind.

“Spike, could I have a couple of strands of your hair? I need it for a spell, to try and fool them that you are here, after we have left.”

He had no idea what she was talking about, but willingly pulled out some hair for her. She put a kitchen chair in the middle of the room, placed his hair on the seat and drew a circle round it. Scattering herbs and other magical items into the circle, she began to chant. After a few seconds the area round the chair began to shimmer and shine. An outline of a seated man began to emerge. Spike watched in fascination, as the image solidified. Who was it? Then he took in the white blond hair, the black jeans and t shirt clad body and realised that it was a simulacrum – an exact likeness of himself. He felt his respect for Hilda increase. What a powerful witch she was.

He looked at it critically. Well, no wonder the birds swooned over him. What a handsome fellow! He circled the chair slowly, looking at every detail. So that’s what the collar looked like on. Not bad, not bad. Mmmm it could do with a black leather duster, though.

“If you’ve quite finished admiring yourself!” Hilda had been watching him with some
amusement.

“I’d forgotten just how bloody good looking I am.” He grinned over at her. “Quite a party trick, love.”

She grew serious; “It should keep them guessing for a while. I’m not strong enough to hold off three witches for any length of time. We’ll need help from a witch outside of my coven. The problem is I don’t know any. But first things first – we must get away from here - now.”

She cast another spell to shield Spike from the sun and make him invisible to the other witches. She told him to keep as close as he could, as she manoeuvred out of the door. They made their way to the car and, with a collective sigh of relief, drove away.



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


“So, where’re we going pet?”

“I have absolutely no idea – I’m just trying to get us as far away from the house as I can.” she said grimly.

They drove in silence, each of them deep in their own thoughts. Spike, who had never been any good at silence, spoke first. “So, you don’t know any other witches?”

“Oh, yes I know quite a few outside of the coven, but of course so do the others. They’d track us down easily. Anyway, I don’t think anyone would be likely to help a renegade and a vampire.”

“Look, why don’t you just drop me off here? I’ve got a good head start. Then you can wait until they’ve cooled off a bit, and go back home.” Spike said earnestly.

“I told you before, that is not going to happen. I don’t abandon my friends!” she retorted sharply. “We’ll find a way out of this – I just don’t know what it is yet.”

He looked at her in wonder. So this is what having a friend meant. Sticking with you through thick and thin – he was learning all the time.

“OK love, if that’s what ……” He got no further. His body suddenly convulsed and the feelings of terror and pain flooded back, along with an almost uncontrollable blood lust. He felt as though his body was infested with burning snakes. Writhing, stinging, biting at his insides. This time he used the pain to focus his mind – to concentrate on not losing control.

Hilda looked over at him, the car swerving dangerously. She saw his face morphing from human to demon and back again, as he struggled with the spell. “Oh, goddess!” She shouted. “Hold on!” Steering the car to the side of the country road, she pulled up. Watching him the whole time, she reached over to the back seat and her shoulder bag. The spell book was on the top and with trembling hands; she began to flick through it feverishly. He was gasping and panting with effort and the clinical part of her mind watched with interest, as his chest heaved with pseudo breathing. Finding the spell she needed, she began to chant. Slowly, very slowly he began to relax, his breathing eased and then stopped.

"Bugger me! That was bad. Good job I’ve got the ward you gave me, I think it helped me fight” He croaked.
When she didn’t reply, he glanced over at her and was shocked at her appearance. She was grey with fatigue and her face was drawn and lined. She suddenly looked years older.

“What’s wrong?”

“Too much magic, in too short a time. There are always consequences Spike, always.”

“Then I should drive, pet, you look all in.”

“Didn’t know you could drive.” She murmured.

“Been driving since there were cars on the road,” he replied trying to lighten the mood.
“Took a driving test once. Got fed up with all the bloody stupid questions. Ate the instructor instead. Driving improved though.”

They swapped places, she smiled at him faintly and then closed her eyes. He hoped that she didn’t need to be conscious for the spell to keep working. Concentrating on going as fast as he could, but staying within the speed limits, he started to wrack his brain to think of somewhere they could head for.


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


Giles glanced up from his newspaper and across to Buffy, who had just returned from what she called her “retreat” – the garden in the centre of the square. They had had a leisurely breakfast and agreed to spend a lazy day at Michael’s home, after their fun packed previous day. Well, thought Giles, fun packed would not be the way he would describe it – but he had known that it was what Buffy had needed – some retail therapy. She had seemed so down after yesterday’s telephone conversations with her family and friends. Perhaps she was more homesick than she was letting on. This had to be the strangest holiday he had ever experienced.

Staying at Michael’s, was turning out to be better than he had first thought. They had so much in common. Giles was having real, intellectual discussions with someone who knew what he was talking about. It was like finding an oasis in the desert.

It was such a shame that Hilda had acted like a lovesick teenager – going off with that irritating bloodsucker. Giles would have liked to get to know her better; she was a very interesting woman, who seemed to have extensive knowledge of magic.

A loud pounding on the door interrupted his musings. Throwing down the newspaper, he got to his feet, grumbling loudly as the pounding went on. He opened the door and was almost bowled over as Spike, carrying Hilda’s limp form in his arms, stumbled through.

Spike tottered to the sitting room and gently laid her on the sofa.

“What have you done to her?” Giles whispered.

“Oh, shut up you bloody stupid wanker!” Can’t you see she needs help?” Spike picked up her hand and started to pat at it ineffectually. It was what they used to do for young ladies who fainted, back in the day.

“I said WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” Giles shouted, his face suffused with rage.

“Do you really think I’d bring her here, if I’d hurt her? Even I’m not that stupid!” the vampire yelled back.

“Get out of the way.” Pushing Spike aside, Giles took over examining the witch, as best he could.

Buffy stood watching silently. Spike, she thought stupidly. He’s back. “What happened?” She asked softly.

Spike didn’t seem to hear her, so she said again more loudly, “What happened?”

He turned and caught sight of her for the first time – it was like a hammer blow. Her scent surrounded him, her face, so beautiful, so troubled. All the time he’d been away, he’d consciously fought against thinking about her. But now she was here, within arms reach. He groaned to himself, why the bloody hell did he love her so much?

“I didn’t. I haven’t hurt her.” He muttered.

“So, tell me what happened.” Buffy said patiently.

Spike recounted the events that had occurred since he and the witch had left this house.

“The second time they attacked me, I was able to fight it for long enough for Hilda to reinforce the shield around me. I think the mojo was different though - the bloodlust was almost too much for me to control. The first spell was against me, but I think that one was against us both. They wanted me to kill her and then run.” He was pacing up and down, running his hands through his hair.

Buffy longed to comfort him, maybe put her arms around him. But he was obviously over her, and now Hilda was all he could think of. Instead, she smiled at him encouragingly, as she awkwardly patted his arm. “I’m sure she’s gonna be fine.” Oh, great, Buffy, way to go she thought, next you’ll be offering him a nice cup of tea.

Giles had realised that the witch was in a deep sleep, and not injured in any way. He moved her into a more comfortable position on the sofa and turned to the Slayer and vampire.

“Now, what are we going to do about Spike? He should be contained in some way.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked belligerently.

“He’s right Slayer – those bloody witches could strike at any time, and without Hilda to repel the magic, I could hurt someone.”

Buffy turned to the professor, who had come downstairs to see what all the fuss was about.

“Do you have a secure room we could lock him in? Maybe in the basement?”

He looked puzzled, until Spike translated. “She means the cellar.”

“Oh, yes. Uh, no. The cellar is one large room which, I’m afraid, is rather crammed with a hotch potch of things that I can’t bring myself to get rid of.” He smiled apologetically.

“Well then, do you have any chains?”

“Not here.” He said thoughtfully. “But I have at the station. I also have a secure room for him.” He suddenly smiled. “Do you think that it would confuse the witches, if Spike was in a place with other vampires?”

Giles looked thoughtful. “Yes, that might work.”

“Come on then people – we can’t hang about. Never know when they’re gonna catch up again.” Spike was conflicted. He didn’t much like the idea of chains and a ‘secure room’.
But if it meant that he was made safe, then he’d go along with it.

Spike glared at the bars that surrounded him on three sides. The fourth was a solid stone wall, with a narrow shelf upon which lay a thin mattress. He looked down at the iron bands on his wrists that chained him to a staple in the floor, giving him just enough leeway to sit or lie on the “bed”. The only other thing in the room was a camera mounted high, near the ceiling. He knew only too well that any vamp that had been imprisoned in this cell, hadn’t survived the experience. He remembered the awful “operating theatre” he’d woken up in, with the photographs of all those other vamps. It was too much like the bloody Initiative, or that mad millionaire’s for his peace of mind. Talk about history repeating itself. History could go and bugger itself for all he cared.

Things had been happening so fast recently, that he’d had no time to think. Now he had too much time, he found that he was swamped with thoughts and feelings.

About Buffy, she’d seemed almost friendly today. He’d expected her to punch him on the nose (or worse) or at least yell at him. But she’d asked him quite calmly what had happened, and hadn’t blamed him at all. He shook his head, she’d acted as if she liked him – which he knew was just a pipe dream on his part.

About Hilda – was she going to be Okay? He’d had some experience of magic in his long life, but never as powerful as this. Would Hilda recover, or would she stay in her coma? He had used his not inconsiderable powers of persuasion on her to make her take him home. He shifted uncomfortably, chains clanking, was it all his fault? It was all too confusing for someone who had no moral compass.

About the other witches – why the hell were they still attacking him? He could feel the spell skittering about in the back of his mind, still active, but muffled by the protection that Hilda had given him.

You’re a bloody master vampire - top of the sodding food chain - what the hell are you doing caged up like a lab rat? And feelings for humans? Where had that come from? He blamed the sodding chip. When he’d been chained up before, it had been for the purposes of coercion or punishment, and was usually accompanied by extreme pain, which he’d used to help him concentrate – on escape. But he was here voluntarily.

Sullenly, he’d allowed them to rope his arms behind his back and bundle him into the car for the humiliating journey back to this hellhole. He started to work himself up into an unrighteous fury. He should have buggered off when everything first started to go pear-shaped. Instead he’d allowed that bloody witch to persuade him to stay – and now look at the crap he was in.
Spike could stand up – just – but he couldn’t pace and for a creature with excess energy it was torture in itself. Growling low in his chest, he pulled on the chains for the hundredth time. Had they forgotten him? He’d been chained up for hours, getting hungrier by the minute. At last he heard footsteps approaching.

He looked up to see the Slayer peering at him through the bars. “Oh great, come to see the monster in its cage have you?” he snarled.

She unlocked the door and entered, “Nooo. Actually, I came to bring you this.” She offered him a mug.

Even the aroma of pig’s blood smelled delicious to him at that point. He made to take it from her, but was brought short by the chain.

“Oh, bloody, buggering hell!” He snarled, sliding down to crouch on the floor. He was surprised when she hunkered down by his side, offering him the mug again. He was even more surprised when she calmly watched him drink, with not the faintest expression of disgust.

“Ta, luv.” He handed her back the mug.

“Do you want some more?”

“That’s taken the edge off, but it’s probably as well that I’m not up to full strength at the moment, thanks all the same.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. Suddenly finding the manacles fascinating, he examined them minutely, to give him time to recover from her sudden presence. Her scent surrounded him in a miasma of promise and rejection. He could sense her breathing, which seemed over fast, and the blood pumping round her delicious body. He fought the impulse to touch her, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.

She showed no inclination to leave, and he was uncomfortably aware of her arm pressing against his, and his body’s reaction. He shifted slightly and wrapped his arms round his knees as far as the chains would let him.

He’s flinching away from me, Buffy thought dismally. She was sure that he’d sooner have received his meal from the witch.

“Um, Giles has gone to do some research.” Buffy said, desperately trying to break the uncomfortable silence. “The prof thinks that, although Hilda is still unconscious, it’s more like sleep than, uh, well unconsciousness.”

He looked up then, his eyes feverish, “She gonna be okay?”

“He thinks that she’ll be fine.” She smiled brilliantly at him. “Are you okay?”

Spike looked at her in amazement – this was the furthest from okay than he’d ever been, but he found he couldn’t be angry with her for showing concern. Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He threw his head back and roared – with laughter.

Stung, Buffy was about to storm out of the room. Then she looked at him rocking and shaking with merriment. It was a true, wholehearted laugh, not the high pitched chuckle that she’d heard before, and she felt herself relax and join in.

Suddenly, Spike fell silent. “Get out.” He whispered.

Still laughing, Buffy said “Huh?”

“Slayer. Get OUT!” In a blur, his face changed and he lunged for her.

Held immobile by shock, it wasn’t until his fangs pierced her throat, that self-preservation took over and she punched at him desperately. Then, appallingly, his snarls turned to screams and he fell back clawing at his head. She saw him drop convulsing on the floor, blood pouring from his nose and ears.

Buffy gazed down at the vampire resting on her lap. Blood was still seeping from his ears and nose and, although he was deeply unconscious, he was twitching and trembling, obviously still in great pain.

“Here”, the professor held out a damp towel, “put it over the wound.”

Without looking she put out her hand, and when he passed it to her, began to wipe Spike’s face.

“I meant it for you.” Mackness said wryly.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten.” Buffy put the cloth to the bite on her neck and rubbed at it absently.

“How on earth can you forget being bitten by a vampire?” He asked, shaking his head. “He looks as though he’s reverted to a feral state. Don’t you think we should put him out of his misery? I could give him a simple injection and he’ll just slip away, won’t feel a thing.”

His breath caught in his throat as he saw her expression.

“You don’t touch him! If he needs dusting, I do it – nobody else!” Her voice echoed round the cell, “He tried to warn me, before the spell got too much for him. We have to find a way to help him that doesn’t include ending his existence.”

She didn’t seem to register the tears which, as they slid down her cheeks, dropped on the face of the creature lying on her knees. Buffy looked up and saw the professor’s stricken expression. “Look, I’m sorry you got involved in this. Why don’t you go home now, Giles can’t be much longer, we can take over from here”

Mackness was stung that she thought so little of him. He had seen the attack on the monitor in his office and had rushed down to the cell, only to find the vampire was unconscious. The other day, Buffy had seemed disgusted when he had suggested that there might be a connection between herself and the vampire, now she was distraught at his injuries even though he had attacked her. It was completely beyond him.

“I’ll stay if it’s all the same to you – do a bit of research. You never know I might come in useful at some stage.” He said in a dignified voice, only spoiled a little by a slight tremor.

The young woman seemed to forget him as soon as she looked away. In fact, she seemed only to be aware of the demon and was stroking its face. In spite of himself, the professor was fascinated. He hadn’t seen Spike’s game face before, the vampire had seemed to have absolute control – and now all that control had gone. He shuddered at the thought of what it could have done to this beautiful girl, had it not been restrained.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me. And please, if he shows signs of waking up; get out of here as quickly as you can.” The professor was unsure that she’d heard anything he’d said. He made his way back to his office and sat watching the monitor for any sign of the vampire attacking again.

Buffy gently brushed her fingers over the ridges on the vampire’s forehead and marvelled that she felt none of the revulsion and hatred of the past years, only concern and – and – she forced herself to complete the thought – and the beginnings of love. The last barrier round her heart was broken. Examining him closely for the first time, she saw him, really saw him, game face and all – not just the vampire, but the man. He was, even in this state, extremely attractive and when he was showing his “human” face, he was beautiful. Her heart seemed to squeeze and falter as she studied him.

He had loved her, she now knew it to be true - and she had thrown it in his face. Not surprising that he had finally given up, with all the physical and verbal abuse that she’d heaped on him. Now all he wanted was to be with the witch. She sighed, overcome with regret and sadness.

But it didn’t mean that she couldn’t help him, fight for him. She found that she was filled with steely determination. She would find a way to protect him. She had to.

She glanced down to the ward at Spike’s throat and she noticed that the crystal was no longer glowing, and that the vampire was lying completely still. Suddenly, she heard a growl and realised that his golden eyes were open and he was staring up at her expressionlessly.

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

As the pain receded, the vampire slowly regained consciousness. He became aware that something was dreadfully wrong. He could feel that he was leaning against a warm, living, breathing being, but he was in absolute silence. That was impossible. He should be able to hear the intake of breath and the beating of a pulse. But there was nothing. Fear slowly filled him, when he made another terrible discovery – his senses of smell and taste had vanished too. He also realised that he was under some kind of restraint; he could feel the pressure of metal bands round his wrists, and then the terrifying realisation that he didn’t know who he was.

Something hot and wet dropped on to his cheek and it was only by a supreme force of will that he remained motionless. OK, he was deaf, had no sense of smell/taste and he felt as though he had been beaten with a steak tenderiser. Was he blind too? What kind of predator could he be now?

He fought the impulse to open his eyes, but his need to know what threat he faced, outweighed everything else. He snapped them open with an unheard growl and found himself looking up into the face of a beautiful human woman. Her lips moved silently and she gave him a heart-stopping smile. Without thought, he tried to raise his hand to wipe off the tears that were streaming down her face, but was brought short by a chain attached to his wrists. She spoke again and drew her hand through his hair. He tried to speak to her, but distressingly, couldn’t even hear his own voice.

His gaze slid down to her throat. She had a bite on her neck and, with a jolt; he saw that it was his mark! He looked back up into her eyes in confusion. Had he attacked her and she had been able to capture him somehow? No, that wasn’t right – she was looking at him with such love. She must be his mate – but she was human! Why the hell couldn’t he remember this gorgeous female, and why was he under restraint? Was she a prisoner too? If so, why wasn’t she chained? The thoughts and questions tumbled around his head, making him dizzy. She was still smiling down at him and, crazily, he felt comforted. He tried to blink away the black spots that swam into his vision, but felt himself fall back into unconsciousness.


TBC

Thank you, thank you all you wonderful reviewers! It makes my day reading them and replying. Next chapter tomorrow, hopefully

Making Spike as comfortable as she could, Buffy reluctantly left him and sped to the professor’s office, to see if Giles was back from his research trip.

“He rang just now, and he’s on his way.” the professor informed her, “He thinks he might have found a spell powerful enough to protect us, at least until help arrives.”

She used the professor’s washroom to clean herself up, bandage the bite and, after changing out of her blood spattered clothes, felt a little better. He asked if she would “keep an eye on things” while he went to look for some equipment that might come in useful. Alone, and with nothing constructive to do, Buffy started to pace. This was the time when she’d usually go out and fight something, slay something. It was so frustrating. Picking up and putting down random books and papers, the usually tidy office slowly started to look as though a small tornado had struck. Glancing up to the monitor, Buffy was shocked to see a figure standing just inside Spike’s prison door. She left at a dead run.


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



Spike came to slowly. There was an awful, mind stunning noise – screeching, whistling, squealing, clicking – what the hell was it? Groaning, he sat up. What had happened? The last thing he remembered, was sitting on the floor with Buffy, laughing hysterically. Had he nodded off to sleep? He certainly remembered having a dream. His face softened. It had been about Buffy, as most of his dreams were these days. Only this one had been different. Usually, he was fighting or shagging her, but this time he was just lying in her lap, while she stroked his hair and looked at him with love. She had smiled at him softly – no revulsion, no disdain, no hatred – only love. He held on to the vision and smiled inwardly. Buffy in love with him – yeah right! He remembered seeing a bite mark on her neck and thinking she was his mate! She’d dust him for sure if he ever had the temerity kiss her, let alone bite her. He’d tried to kiss her once and ended up on his arse for his trouble. Wishful bloody thinking, you stupid bugger! He shook himself out of his self-indulgence and looked around for the source of the noise. It was unlike anything he had heard, but over it he could hear footsteps.

The door to his cell crashed open and he grinned when he saw who it was.

“Hilda! Pet. You okay?”

She seemed to be looking at him oddly, no smile of recognition. They both swung their heads, as they heard the sound of pounding feet echoing down the hallway. Buffy appeared in the doorway. The witch put up her hand and the Slayer felt as though she had run into a brick wall.

“Stay there. This is perfect – you should watch this.” The witch spoke in a cold voice. Buffy found that she couldn’t move a muscle – only look on silently.

Spike’s smile faltered, “What’s wrong luv?”

“Don’t call me that!” As she spoke, the witch thrust her fingers towards the vampire and suddenly a deadly, needle pointed wooden dart shot across the room and plunged into his shoulder.

Gasping with shock and pain, Spike stared at her wild-eyed. “What the bloody hell did you do that for?”

“I’ll do a lot worse before I’m finished with you, you disgusting, evil, murdering monster!” Shaking, the witch’s mouth peeled back in a parody of a smile.

Buffy, caught like a fly in amber, could only watch in horror, as another two darts pierced his body. She felt as though her heart would break, as she saw Spike’s anguished face.

“You think you could take over my life, move in with me and make me forget all my friends?” Again the witch gestured and another dart hit him, this time in his arm.

The witch seemed to quiver, but recovered quickly. “On your knees.” The shackles dropped away from his wrists and he was flung down onto the stone floor.

He started to slowly pull himself towards her. “Please. Hilda. What’s happened to make you treat me like this, after what we had together?”

“You think that you meant anything to me? You disgusted me every time you touched me.” The words dripped from her mouth like acid.

Another dart hit him in the neck, but he hardly seemed to notice. “Listen to me, my witch, please – whatever it is, let me put it right.”

The witch shook more violently this time, and her air of supreme superiority seemed to be leeching away. “That’s where you belong you despicable creature, crawling on your hands and knees.” She said hoarsely

The vampire reached the witch’s feet and looked up at her, “I’m sorry Hilda.” Sickened Buffy watched, as he bent as though he was going to kiss her foot. Instead he grasped her ankle and pulled as hard as he could. Hilda crashed down, hitting her head on the stone floor and lay unmoving.

As soon as the witch was down, Buffy was released from her invisible prison and she staggered into the room. Spike was kneeling next to Hilda, his shoulders hunched, stroking her hand and saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

A cold, hard voice said, “Get away from her.” The vampire looked up and saw Giles pointing a crossbow at his chest through the bars, and he could see death in the Watcher’s face.

Shakily he got to his feet and stumbled back to the far wall. “Slayer, look after her will you? “

Buffy saw Giles’ finger tighten on the trigger and she stepped between him and the vampire. “Giles, you don’t understand – he didn’t attack Hilda, she attacked him.”

“She attacked him? Why would she do that?”

“Because she was mojo-ed and taken over, just the same as me.” Spike muttered, trying hard to look relaxed, but having to lean against the wall to stop falling over.

“You can’t deny that he bit you.” Giles said to Buffy, angrily.

“I bit you?” Both humans could hear the shock and amazement in his voice.

He saw Buffy put her hand up to a bandage that had been hidden by her hair. “Yes, he bit me, but it was an accident.”

“Oh, you accidentally fell against his fangs?”

That deserved the eye roll she gave him. “Oh, please Giles! Put the crossbow down and help me with Hilda.” She bent down to pick up the witch.

“Put the shackles back on him first.”

“I think we have got past that stage ………”

The humans’ voices faded to the back of Spike’s mind, as he looked over at the witch. He concentrated hard, and managed to hear her slow, but steady, heartbeat over the annoying voices. He’d known just after the first dart had hit him, that the other witches were using Hilda to destroy him. But she was his friend – and he’d hurt her. And somehow in the confusion, he’d bitten the Slayer

Sorrow and pain flowed through him. It wasn’t like the physical pain of his wounds, this was somehow worse. He began to feel strange, what were these thoughts and feelings? A vampire shouldn’t be feeling like this about humans, he knew – but since when had he obeyed any rules? He was a free agent; he’d feel any bloody way he liked. And then he had a shattering realisation – the chip hadn’t fired! He’d hurt these women and his chip hadn’t punished him!

“Spike!”

Filled with confusion and apprehension, he looked up at Buffy and her Watcher. They were both looking at him impatiently, as if they had spoken to him before.

Buffy picked the witch up, said, “Come on,” and lead the way out of the cell.

“Against my better judgement, Buffy has persuaded me to let you live. Be aware that I don’t need much of an excuse to end your existence.” Giles gestured with the crossbow for Spike to precede him.

The vampire wasn’t sure that his legs would support him, but he pushed away from the wall and stumbled after the Slayer.

Buffy glanced over at Spike worriedly. She had never seen him so quiet for so long - he seemed too subdued. He looked as though he was in shock – if vampires could experience shock. Not for the first time, Buffy wished she knew a bit more about them, other than what she’d heard from the Council. Even when Giles had insisted that she tie Spike down, whilst they were busy clearing the professor’s room ready for casting the spell, he submitted without so much as a frown. He had asked in a quiet voice to be near the witch and had even helped her to move the chair next to the bed on which Hilda lay. And now he sat staring into space, eyes unfocussed. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

Spike was still grappling with his feelings of confusion and fear. He was hungry – ravenous in fact, but the scent of the witch’s blood from her head wound, was making him nauseous. And the Slayer – he realised he still loved her with every fibre of his body. Bloody hell, he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his only natural enemy, it was unnatural! Usually he’d be proud of being unnatural – but this, this was sick! And as for having a dream about lying in her lap and smiling at her like a complete idiot – what a poufy prat!

He was desperately trying to wind himself up into a fury, and then he made the mistake of glancing over towards the Slayer, and all his anger dissipated like mist in the sunshine. He knew he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone – even Dru, but she at best barely tolerated him. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth to stop groaning.

Although he had no memory of the attack, he accepted that he had bitten and tried to drain Buffy. And now Hilda, the only human woman who had ever shown any sort of affection for him, was lying unconscious, at his hand. Bloody hell, he needed a drink. No, he needed several drinks – an entire brewery probably wasn’t enough.

No one as yet had wondered why he hadn’t had a migraine from his attack on Hilda. He supposed it was only a matter of time – then they’d stake him for sure. The ropes were chafing one of the wounds in his chest, he pressed against them to try and use the pain to submerge his thoughts – it worked for all of about five seconds. “Just stake me now.” He muttered under his breath.

The room was finally cleared and marked out for the spell casting. “I wish Hilda was well, she could probably do this in half the time and without all these messy ingredients.” Giles sighed and then gestured to Buffy and Mackness. “Well you two had better get back now, just in case something goes wrong.”

Buffy approached the vampire and the witch, under the pretext of checking on Hilda’s state of health. “How’s she doing?” She asked Spike.

“Heart’s steady. Just needs rest, I guess.” Spike answered in a monotone, not meeting her glance.

“As soon as Giles has finished the spell, I’ll cut you loose.” Buffy noticed that the ropes around his chest were stained red. She had offered to bandage his wounds before tying him down, but he had refused saying that they were almost healed. “And I’ll have a look at you, some of the wounds seem to have opened up again.”

“Don’t bother.” He said roughly, and then said something under his breath that sounded like “not worth it.”

“What?”

“If I hadn’t persuaded her to take me home, none of this would have happened.”

“Aw, isn’t he sweet, when he thinks he’s the centre of the universe?” A soft, if sarcastic, voice interrupted him.

Buffy and Spike’s heads swung round in unison, to see the witch looking at them groggily.

“Bugger me! I thought you were going to sleep for the rest of the night, you lazy bint.” Spike tried to look angry, but it was spoiled by the broad grin all over his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like someone hit me on the head with a stone floor.” Hilda smiled faintly at him.

“Hilda! Wonderful. You’re awake!”

“Bleedin’ observant ain’t he?” Spike said, frowning at the Watcher.

Giles ignored him. “Are you feeling well enough to advise me about this spell?”

“Look here you stupid wanker, she’s only just woken up – leave her alone!”

“It’s all right Spike, I can answer for myself. I’m sorry Rupert; I think I’m burnt out at the moment – no magic here.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting that you do the spell, only advise me on the best way of casting it.”

While Hilda and Giles discussed the spell’s finer points, Buffy watched Spike. He had always been easy to read and for someone who considered himself the big bad, his emotions clearly showed on his face. He was glaring at Giles and, she was sure, unaware that he was struggling against his bonds. She made a decision, crouched down beside him, and started to try to untie the knots binding him to the chair. He swung his head round and gave her a penetrating stare.

“Won’t your Watcher be pissed off with you if you let me go?”

“I can take care of myself,” she said absently, as she struggled with the knots.

“That you can luv, that you can.”

She looked up just in time to catch his look. It was back. “The Look” was back. The look of tenderness and adoration. He recovered swiftly and the neutral expression, that she had become accustomed to over the past few days, replaced it. Her heart began to pound so hard, she thought it might break through her ribcage. Oh, god Buffy, The Look! The Look! She realised that she had frozen to the spot and was staring at him.

“What?” He said, trying to sound as casual as possible, “Can’t you untie it?” Why was she staring at him like that? Her heart rate and respiration were going wild. Was she ill? He was suddenly concerned. “What’s wrong Slayer, you sick?”

Giles chose that moment to interrupt. “Hilda agrees that it would be wise if you all kept away from the pentagram, in case there are any, um, accidents. Not that I think there will be, but it’s best to be safe. We have decided to try and encompass this entire level, so that we will be able to use the dormitory and the rest of the facilities. I think we could all do with some rest.” He smiled at Buffy and went to the centre of the room. She smiled faintly back – damn the man! She had been on the point of saying something to Spike, but now the moment was gone. He was talking softly to the witch, who was sitting close to him on the edge of the bed.

Had she imagined it? Wanted so much to see him look at her with love, that she had just seen what she wanted to see? Then Giles started the incantation and all thought fled.

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

Magic filled the air like static electricity, crackling and sparking as Giles began his chant. Buffy could feel all the small hairs on her arms and legs stir, and then stand on end. She shivered involuntarily at the sudden chill in the air and looked at the others, who appeared to be just as affected.

At that moment, Giles said the last words of the protection spell and everything faded into white for a second. The professor gasped in shock. There was a brilliant flash of bright blue and then their surroundings came back, but looking slightly out of focus, shifting eerily. Giles sat down abruptly, as if his legs could no longer take his weight.

“Bloody hell!” The Watcher spluttered, “That packed a punch.” Buffy pulled him to his feet and helped him to sit down next to the witch, who was looking at Spike worriedly.

“Oh my! Oh my.” She was saying over and over again.

“What’s wrong Hilda?” Spike was looking just as worried.

“Something that has only just occurred to me, when I saw the crystal react.” Then she muttered under her breath, “Oh Hilda, you are such a stupid witch.”

“Tell me what’s wrong!” the Vampire shouted.

“I’m sorry Spike, but I’m going to have to remove the ward.”

“What?” Spike gaped at her

“I’ve just realised how they have managed to track us so well. They have been following the magic of the ward all this time – it’s acting like a beacon. I should have thought of it before – I’m so sorry.” She buried her head in her hands.

“Hilda, you have spent most of the time here unconscious. I’m not surprised that the thought didn’t strike you before. Give yourself a break,” Giles smiled at her and she smiled faintly back.

“Won’t the protection spell, you know – protect us now?” Buffy asked.

“Yes, but the ward is shouting our position to them loud and clear. If they get here, we’ll be protected all right, but then all they have to do is wait until we run out of food….”
She left the others to fill in the end of the sentence. “We just have to hope that they haven’t pinpointed us yet.”

“Oh bugger!” Spike said dismally – the collar was precious to him, a gift from a friend.

“I’ll make you a new one, when we get out of this.” The witch reached over and unclasped the ward from his neck, as he smiled at her shyly.

Buffy crouched at the vampire’s side again and started to wrestle with the knots around his body, trying not to show the jealousy lancing through her.

“Here,” the professor was holding out a red handled knife, “Swiss Army knife, it was a present from my boys.” He smiled at her, “should make short work of the rope.”



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


“What are we going to do with it?” Mackness asked.

“Put it on a train – that’ll lead them away from us.”

“No Spike, if anyone finds it, as they are bound to, and then puts it on, they would be just as vulnerable to the witches as you were.” Giles was busy polishing his glasses

“So?” The vampire struggled to understand that argument.

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” Giles jammed the glasses back on his nose, “we can’t let innocent people suffer.”

“Well, they can’t be that innocent. Taking something that’s not theirs.” Spike muttered sullenly.

Giles pointedly turned his back on the vampire and said “Any suggestions?”

“What about hiding it at St Mary’s?” Mackness said diffidently. “No-one goes there, not even the workmen, now I have disbanded them.”

They all agreed that it was a good idea, but then couldn’t agree about who should take it. Spike insisted that as it belonged to him, he should be the one to dispose of it. Hilda argued that, since he had already been attacked through it twice, it probably wasn’t a good idea. That also discounted her, as she had also been attacked and was the one that the other witches knew best. Giles volunteered, but he was the only one who could cast spells, as Hilda was temporarily out of commission.

“I’ll take it. Since I’m the only one that doesn’t have special powers, maybe they won’t notice me.” the professor spoke so softly they almost didn’t hear him.

“You!” Spike said derisively, “what are you going to do if evil, bloodthirsty vampires attack? Scream and cry for your mummy?”

Over the uproar those words generated, Buffy said, “I’ll go with him.”

It seemed the best solution. Hilda wrapped the collar carefully, in a strip torn off the bedsheets, emptied her leather shoulder bag and placed it inside.

"Don’t touch the metal, just in case they’ll be able to sense you somehow. Bury it, bag and all, that’ll be the safest.” She smiled at him and patted his arm.

Giles shook his hand, “Buffy is an experienced warrior – do as she says and you should be safe.”

Mackness picked up the bag in shaking hands and tried to smile bravely. “I’m sure we’ll be back before you know it.” He could see the vampire rolling his eyes in the background and somehow this gave him strength. “Let’s go.”


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


Buffy looked down at her fashionable high-heeled boots, “just how far is it?”

“Oh, it’s about three miles away – but don’t worry, we have transport.” The professor led her to an alcove in the tunnel, in which a small electric truck was parked. It looked just like the ones they used in airports.

The journey was uneventful, boring even and Buffy was glad when the professor told her that they had reached their destination.

They entered the large area that used to be St Mary’s station and memories came flooding back into Buffy’s mind. Giles collapsing, Spike carrying him and half carrying her and then trying to fight off the crossbow-wielding humans. She realised that it was then that the love that she was starting to feel for him had started. She sighed sadly.

Mackness took the bag over to a pile of rubble where a wall had partially collapsed and started to dig a hole. He heaved some bricks aside and then burrowed into the detritus that was underneath. He looked up, about to ask the young woman if she thought it was deep enough, when he saw a movement behind her.

“Oh my!” Was all he could manage, when he saw a group of five grinning vampires descending upon them.






TBC

To the professor’s astonishment, Buffy swung round to face the approaching vampires with a delighted grin on her face.

“Just what I need – a little exercise.”

And then she started to fight. Two of the vampires vanished into dust within the first few seconds and Mackness began to breathe again. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, she moved with such grace and fluidity, it was almost like a dance. He heard her talking to them, taunting them and obviously enjoying every moment. One vampire she tossed over her shoulder and it landed near the professor, with a sickening crash. It lay still for a moment, but then struggled to its feet and went back into the attack. The professor shouted a warning, but Buffy was intent on the other two. Without thought, Mackness picked up one of the bricks that lay at his feet and threw it at the vampire with all his strength. The brick bounced off the vampire’s head, but all it did was to take its attention off the Slayer and on to him.

Other than Spike, the only other vampires that the professor had encountered had been restrained and usually drugged – this one had murder in its eyes. He shrank back against the wall, terror running through him. Part of his mind was saying, “I’m sorry boys,” over and over again, as visions of his sons flashed across it.

The vampire took its time stalking up to him, enjoying his fear. “This looks like easier meat.” As its jaws opened, Mackness closed his eyes in resignation. There was a strange noise and then a sudden silence.

“Sleeping on the job Prof?”

He opened his eyes a crack and saw a grinning Slayer standing before him. He opened them wide and quickly glanced round and then sagged against the wall in relief.

“It’s OK, they’re all dust. Let’s get this over with, before any more show up, shall we?”

In the end, Buffy had to bury the ward; Mackness was still overcome with shock. She was so used to battling vampires with the Scoobies, that she had forgotten that ordinary human beings would be so affected.

“I, I’m sorry.” The professor managed to stutter. “Wasn’t much use to you was I?”

“Hey, I don’t suppose it was on the menu at your college.” She put on a stuffy voice, “This term, it’s “Vampires and how to slay them.””

He smiled gratefully at her and pushed himself up, “well, as you said, we’d better get going.” He wanted to get out of this awful place and return to the relative safety of his office, as soon as possible.


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


When they got back to where they had parked the electric car, it was gone.

“Are you sure this is where we left it?” Buffy said, more in hope than expectation.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Mackness said quietly.

“Oh hell. How far did you say it was?” She looked down at her feet. “These boots were definitely not made for walking.”


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

“The bloke’s got no booze!” Spike slammed the desk drawer shut. “What sort of bloke keeps no booze handy?”

Giles eyed him with distaste. “Shut up Spike, or I’ll be forced to tie you up again.”

“Oooh! I’m scared. Does big Watcher man think he’s a match for a master vampire?”

Hilda hurriedly interrupted before the situation spiralled even more out of control. “Spike, Rupert, I think we had all better calm down, or we’ll be doing our enemy’s job for them.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Giles tore his gaze from the smirking vampire. “I’ll check the perimeter – make sure that everything is okay.” He was quite proud of himself, as he refrained from slamming the door as he left.

When Spike resumed his pacing, Hilda sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. This was going to be a long night. “Spike, I think - “She stopped mid sentence, as he swung round and snarled at her, yellow-eyed. For the first time, she felt afraid of him.

Her change of expression hit him like a blow to the gut. He had been battling with his demon since Buffy had gone with the professor, removing the distraction that he felt whenever she was in the same room. He realised that, unconsciously, he had been considering Hilda as a potential meal. He forced the demon down, “Oh, bugger. I’m sorry pet – I’d never hurt you, you must believe that.”

It suddenly all made sense to her. “When did the chip stop working?” she asked flatly.

Now it was his turn to be afraid. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on Spike; don’t treat me like an idiot. When you attacked Buffy, you had a massive reaction, bleeding from your nose and ears. It deactivated then – didn’t it?”

Without her seeing him move, he was suddenly on his knees at her feet. “You don’t know how sodding hard it is.” She saw the anguish in his face, “not a day has gone by, since they shoved this bloody chip up my head, that I haven’t dreamed of hunting and feeding. I know what I said to you the other day, but now it’s real – I don’t know whether I can control it.”

“You say you wouldn’t hurt me – how do you control that?” She couldn’t prevent her voice from trembling.

“I think about losing you – that kinda counteracts the hunger. Besides I know that if I attack anyone Buffy knows, she’d dust me for sure.”

“Do you think she’d accept you attacking and killing a stranger?”

“Well, she wouldn’t know, would she?” He looked up at her earnestly.

How do you reason with a creature that had no conscience and no sense of guilt? Hilda thought desperately.

“Spike, she’d know – somehow she’d know. In a small town like Sunnydale, news must travel fast and she’d have to kill you, whether she wanted to or not." It sounded feeble in her ears, but he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I think you’re right pet. I’ll have to be real careful.”

“And if I thought that you were hunting again, I’d be so disgusted, that I’d never have anything more to do with you – ever!” She yelled the last word and felt as though she had just finished a hundred-yard dash.

His shocked eyes met hers. “Bloody hell – you mean it don’t you?”

She took a deep breath, “you have managed life with the chip for this long, can’t you just carry on as if it were still there?”

He groaned and dropped his head into her lap, “you don’t want much do you? I’m a vampire – hunting and feeding is what I do, what I’m for. If I don’t have that, what am I?”

“Spike, you have come so far - made yourself into a worthy man.” She stopped as he shuddered at her words. “Well, perhaps worthy isn’t quite the word I’m looking for - someone that I want as my friend. If you go back to killing, all that feeling will turn into disgust.”

He made a noise that sounded like a mixture of a sob and a sigh. “I’ll try luv, I really will.”

“No Spike. Not good enough. I have to know that you’d never go hunting again.” Inspiration hit her, “what does Buffy say about hurting humans?”

“She won’t do it. Says the law deals with them.” His voice was muffled. Then he raised his head and met her stare, “You’re saying use her as a kind of replacement chip, aren’t you?”

“Will it work?”

He gave it thought. Then his face twisted with regret and loss, “Yeah, I think it will.” His head dropped back into her lap.

She raised her hand slowly and carefully and started to stroke his hair. He sighed gustily and began a low rumble in his chest. This is what it must feel like having a panther as a friend she thought ruefully, he’s even purring.




TBC

It wasn’t long before Buffy was mentally cursing the stupid designers and the stupid stores that sold the stupid boots that were now crippling her. Why hadn’t she thought of changing before coming out on this jaunt? She realised that the professor had been saying something, but she had been so caught up in her misery that she hadn’t heard a word he had said.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I was just saying how incredibly well you fight. I have never seen anything like it. You must do a lot of training.”

Buffy realised that, although she had been staying at Mackness’ house, she hadn’t really had a proper conversation with him. So she described a typical day in Sunnydale, and then asked about him. He was a bit hesitant about describing what he called his boring life – but she found that it had been anything but. Among other things, he had been to Transylvania researching Vlad the Impaler and his father Dracula. He was astounded when she told him that she’d met and fought with the most famous vampire in the world. That led to a general conversation about vampires and they compared notes. She asked about his family and was really saddened when he told her about the death of his wife. She found that she had become fond of this gentle, quiet man.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to do a bit of “dad boasting” now,” he said shyly, as he brought out his wallet and showed her some pictures of his sons.

She suddenly stilled. Her Slayer senses told her that there were vampires nearby, and she held up her hand to silence him. Gesturing him to stay where he was, she slowly approached a corner and peeked round. There were a group of around a dozen vampires standing about, as if they were waiting for something. Then she realised that another group was coming up behind them.

“Um, professor is there another way we can go? “She asked in a calm voice. “Only I think it’s going to get a bit crowded around here real soon.”

Mackness thought quickly. “There is an access tunnel just down here. It’ll mean we’ll have to crawl – which is why I didn’t suggest it before – but it cuts our journey down a bit.”

She looked down at her clothes. Buffy, how unsuitable can you get? She asked herself. The jeans were okay, but she was wearing a light blue silk blouse over a strappy top. She sighed, took off the blouse and stuffed it in her pocket.

“OK prof, lead the way.”

He led her to a panel in the wall at about waist level. “This is where the good old Swiss Army knife comes in handy.” She marvelled at how he was keeping it together, as he fumbled out a screwdriver from the knife handle and proceeded to unscrew the panel.

They closed the panel behind them as best they could, and started to crawl.

“Do you think it was an ambush?” He asked her quietly.

“Vampires don’t often plan, much less co-operate with one another, “Buffy began.

“Maybe they know that I’m the one that has been killing them.”

She had no answer to that – she’d been thinking the same thing.

The walking had been bad enough, but now their knees, hands and shoulders started to burn with strain.

“How far have we got to go now?” Buffy asked. “Sorry, that sounds like a bratty kid – “are we nearly there yet?””

The professor smiled to himself, she was such a unique young woman, no wonder Rupert was so proud of her.

“I think the end of the tunnel is just ahead, then it’s a left and a right and we’re back to the tunnel that leads to my office.”

When they arrived, Mackness unscrewed the panel, opened it a crack and peered out. The corridor seemed empty, so Buffy swung herself down and dropped to the floor. As she straightened, she felt her Slayer senses warn her again. Gesturing for him to stay where he was, she was about to investigate, when three vampires attacked.

The professor watched the fight from the safety of the tunnel. He was so caught up in watching the action, that he didn’t hear the vampire behind him until it was almost too late. He swung round, the knife still in his hand and terror in his heart.

“Oh no! The little man has got a knife! Oooh I’m frightened.” It grinned showing long, glistening fangs then, too fast for him to see, it grabbed his arm in its two hands and twisted. The knife dropped to the ground. Mackness heard the bones in his forearm snap like twigs and agony lanced up to his shoulder. The vampire was taking its time, enjoying the professor’s screams. Suddenly, the professor felt as if he was standing outside himself, detached from his pain. He calmly reached down with his left hand, picked up the knife and thrust it into the vampire’s face, as hard as he could. It was the vampire’s turn to scream, as it tried to pluck the screwdriver blade from its eye. The professor half fell, half jumped out of the tunnel, just as Buffy dusted her last vampire. She swung round, and saw what had happened. Her face a mask of fury, she leaped into the tunnel, hauled the vampire out and began to beat it to a pulp. When she started to tire, she took out a stake and finished it off.

Buffy looked down at the professor’s unconscious form, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. She crouched beside him and straightened the bones as gently as she could, pulled her blouse out of her pocket, and bound his arm to his body.

What had he said – a left and a right? Or was it a right then a left?


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


When Giles returned from his patrol, there had been a lot of discussion and heated argument, when Buffy and Mackness had failed to return.

“I’ll go and find them,” Spike said, “we can’t just bloody well sit around doing nothing.”

“Buffy can take care of herself.” Giles replied, unknowingly echoing something that the Slayer had said earlier. “We don’t know these tunnels; we could wander around for hours and still not find them.”

“Sod that! I can follow her scent. There should still be traces I can find.”

Giles was polishing his glasses for the umpteenth time, “yes, Spike, I know, but you have been affected three times by these witches, they may be able to find you even without the collar and if they find you, they find us.”

As Spike opened his mouth to object, Hilda came in from her patrol. “I think you’d better come and see this.”

They followed her down the corridor to the entrance and stopped dead. There on the other side of the magical wall stood a group of ten snarling, screaming vampires who, when they saw the newcomers, tried to throw themselves through the shimmering blue protection barrier before them.

“Yesss!” Spike turned to Hilda, his face alight with glee, “open up luv, I could do with some fun.”

The witch and the Watcher exchanged a glance. “For once I agree with the vampire – we have to get rid of them before Buffy returns.” Giles sighed.

Whilst Giles went back for his crossbow and a supply of stakes, Hilda watched with grim amusement, as Spike vamped out and began strutting back and forth, growling and snarling at the group outside.


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


Buffy decided early on that she would have to jettison the boots. She laid Mackness down and regretfully drew them off, leaving them in the tunnel. Picking the professor up again, she sighed with relief, the concrete was beautifully cool against her feet.

After around half an hour wandering, her arms were beginning to tire and her feet were now bruised and cut. This place was beginning to get on her nerves – it all looked the same. Then she heard the faint sounds of a battle. Following the sound was incredibly difficult, as it echoed along the tunnels. But eventually, she knew that the fight was just beyond a junction a few feet before her. Laying the still form of the professor down again, she crept to the corner and peered round.

Her heart leapt at the scene she saw before her. The two men she loved above all others, were fighting side by side - it was a beautiful sight. Then the reality of it hit her, they were only just keeping their own against eight vampires, and as she watched, a vampire stabbed Spike in the side with a long dagger. Screaming with rage, she launched herself at the unsuspecting vamp and it was dust before it knew what was happening.

Both men registered her presence together and, unknowingly, they welcomed her with matching looks of love and pride. After that, although the vampires outnumbered them, it was a one sided battle.

Brushing off the dust, Buffy grinned at Giles and then gave him a rib cracking hug. He was telling her how anxious they were becoming at her lateness, but she wasn’t really listening. Glancing round, she saw that Spike was disappearing back down the tunnel towards the professor’s office muttering about "sodding group hugs". Well he didn’t seem all that worried, she thought to herself.


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


“You really need to go to hospital and have your arm X-rayed, set and plastered.” Hilda said after examining the now conscious professor.

“Talking about getting plastered – can you ask him where he’s hidden the booze?” Spike asked hopefully.

Mackness smiled wanly. He had managed to swallow some painkillers, but they were obviously insufficient - he was almost as pale as Spike.

“Sorry, I don’t drink.”

“Don’t drink!” Spike spluttered. “What a useless git he is.”

“He protected my back. He fought off a vampire using only a pocket knife – something I don’t think even you have managed.” Buffy said hotly

The professor was grateful that she had interpreted his entirely instinctive actions, as heroic. Even the vampire looked impressed.

It was decided that Giles ought to take Mackness to a hospital and pick up supplies on the way back. A door in the barrier was cautiously opened and, supported by Giles, the professor tottered out.


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


Spike realised that he couldn’t stay in the same room as Buffy, without making a complete prat of himself. He mumbled something about keeping watch and hastily left. Buffy slumped down on the bed and sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Hilda asked.

“He can’t even look at me now.” Buffy replied without thinking.

“Oh, I’m sure he’d like to do a lot more than look at you,” Hilda said trying for humour.

“What do you mean? He’s been all avoidy for days – it’s you he loves.”

“No Buffy, he loves you – me he just thinks of as a friend.” The witch sighed.

Buffy hadn’t heard anything beyond “he loves you”. She looked at Hilda wide-eyed, “Do you really think so?” She whispered. She had gone so pale, that the witch thought she might faint.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Look, I’ll go and get him – then you can sort it out for yourselves.”

Hilda got up and marched to the door, without turning she said, “Just don’t hurt him again, or you’ll have me to deal with.”


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


Spike had been wandering up and down, thinking that he’d been a prisoner of someone or other, since he’d been brought to England. Now, he was caught in this stinking rat hole and no idea of how to escape.

He jumped as a voice said, “Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“Bloody hell woman, don’t creep up on a vampire like that!” Then the sense of what she’d said, permeated through. “Talk to her! Huh, I’m not ready for a punch in the nose.”

“Spike trust me, you’ll want to hear what she has to say.”

Something in the witch’s voice made him look at her closely; she returned his look and smiled reassuringly. Hope surged in his breast. Hilda saw his expression change and pushed him gently towards the door. He walked towards it slowly, and then turned back. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, grinned, and then vanished through the door.

Hilda slowly curled her fingers over his kiss. “Oh Buffy, you lucky, lucky girl.” She sighed.

He drifted so silently through the door, that she didn’t hear him, only her Slayer senses telling her that he was there.

Buffy rose and moved to the centre of the room. He was looking at her expressionlessly, no attitude, no snark, just looking. She had no idea what to say to him – her first instinct was to snap out something defensive. His continued silence unnerved her.

He looked at her, standing in the middle of the room as if she owned it. For once he couldn’t read her – she gave him no clues as to what she was thinking. He leaned back against the door and unconsciously mirrored her posture, wrapping his arms round his chest.

Say something, anything! Her mind was screaming at her – but she couldn’t find the words. She knew that if she didn’t do something now, he would go, and this opportunity would be wasted. So unable to think of anything else, she smiled. It was a weak, tremulous smile, but the effect on him was incredible.

Spike fought the instinct to look behind him to see who she was smiling at. It could only be him - after all he was leaning against the door. He was glad of it, because his legs seemed suddenly to have turned to jelly. Everything faded from his view; he could see only her, his glorious, golden Slayer.

Her smile deepened when she saw his expression, first incredulous then blossoming into love and adoration. His lips moved to form her name, but he made no sound. He pushed himself away from the door, and made his way uncertainly towards her.

“Buffy?” He said huskily, falling to his knees before her.

She still said nothing, but held out her arms, pulled him up and took him into a rib-crushing embrace. He covered her face and hair in kisses, whispering her name over and over.

She walked him backward towards the bed and they collapsed on it, still entwined in each other’s arms.

“Buffy, my heart, my love.” He whispered stroking her face with trembling fingers

Buffy, drowning in the intense blue of his eyes and still lost for words, pulled his head down and kissed him deeply.



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

They spent a long time exploring each other, finding what gave the other pleasure. Nipping, licking, stroking and tenderly kissing. Spike was a revelation, he was tender and attentive – all he wanted to do was to please her. Buffy smiling and half crying with emotion, stretching and flexing with ecstasy, calling out his name and screaming with pleasure. She was proud that she made him give vent to a full-throated roar at the climax of their lovemaking. After, they relaxed together in a tangle of sweat slicked limbs.

Who knew that the big bad could be such a wonderful lover? Buffy thought with a self-satisfied smile, as she pulled back to look at him. He never ceased to surprise her.

He cupped her face in his hands and studied her.

“Is this real? Or am I dreaming again?”

“Again?”

“Yeah, I dreamed that I was lying in your lap, and you were looking at me with a loving expression and stroking my forehead, even though I was vamped out at the time.” He smiled at her, shaking his head.

“That wasn’t a dream.” She told him. “It was after you …..”

“After I bit you!” His face clouded and she could see that he was mortified, as his eyes were drawn to the silvery scar on her neck. She put up her hand to touch it.

“It wasn’t your fault Spike.” She whispered; as she bent down to kiss him. She had secretly wondered whether he would attempt to bite her again, whilst in the throes of lovemaking – not knowing what her reaction would be. But he hadn’t. Only nuzzling and licking her neck in his human guise.

She laid her head on his chest, sighing contentedly and then quickly sat up, wide-eyed. He was purring!

“Uh, sorry love, can’t help it. Autonomic – happens when I’m happy.”

“Don’t be sorry Spike, I love it – it’s sexy.”

He grinned at her in relief. It used to piss Dru off for some reason, she would storm off and vanish for hours, and he’d tried to suppress it ever since. He picked up Buffy’s hand and began to kiss it.

She smiled lazily and then stiffened.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m filthy!” She said, trying to withdraw her hand.

“Yeah my love, you are that.” He smirked, rolling his tongue behind his teeth.

“No, I mean I ought to take a shower and clean off the dirt.”

“I could lick it off.” He said still smirking.

“Eeew! Spike, that’s disgusting!”

“I can be as disgusting as you like pet – big bad here.” He whispered huskily.

She snorted, brought her hand up to cover her grin, then gave up and giggled. He had never looked less bad, with his hair a riot of blond curls. He drew away – she was laughing at him, he thought indignantly. Then he saw her eyes dancing with merriment, not malice, and chuckled along with her.

“I should really get cleaned up before Giles comes back.” Buffy had a sudden thought.
“Oh, I don’t know what he’s going to say. This is really going to freak him out!” She really hadn’t considered the repercussions of her actions.

“Yeah, a pissed off Watcher is the last thing we need at the moment.” Spike drawled. He saw Buffy’s forehead wrinkle in a worried frown and he heard himself say “Maybe it’d be best if we kept it to ourselves, until this mess is sorted out.” What the hell? Had the witch mojoed him – what a bloody stupid thing to say. He was about to contradict himself, when he saw her expression. She was looking at him tenderly, as she stroked his face.

“You are a really understandy man,” she said her face aglow, “Giles is wigged out, what with having to do the magic while Hilda is recovering, and being worried about me not having the vacation of a lifetime, I don’t think he could deal with any more. But I’ll tell him as soon as this is over.”

His anger evaporated. She’d called him a man, he thought delightedly, as he wrapped his arms round her again.


TBC

AN - not good at love scenes (or fight scenes for tha matter) I spent a long time writing and re-writing this - then I got to the "what the hell" stage and I've posted it. I hope it's OK.

Marianne

Buffy stood under the shower and thought about what had just happened. She smiled smugly, what a wonderful lover he was. So different from what she had expected – though she didn’t know quite what she had expected. He had been so intuitive, seeming to know what she wanted seconds before she knew herself. Tender yet strong, he had satisfied her in a way no other man had before. It was going to be a strain trying to hide their feelings from Giles, though knowing Spike; he’d get some fun out of it.

Reluctantly stepping out of the warm water, she dried and dressed herself, humming under her breath.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and the magical barrier disappeared. Filled with apprehension, Buffy ran towards the entrance.



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


Spike dressed slowly, while waiting his turn in the shower – wouldn’t do for the Watcher to witness his nakedness. He flung himself down on the bed, clasped his hands behind his head and grinned, as he thought about the events of the last hours. Buffy was just as he had imagined – no she was a hundred times better. With his severely limited experience of human females - he had had sex with many of them, but it had meant nothing to him, just a prelude to a nice meal – he had seemed to know just what to do. Instinct, he supposed. No, just sheer genius, he thought in self-mockery.

He was just about to see if Buffy needed any help in washing or drying herself, when there was a loud noise, and the magical barrier disappeared. The vampire was filled with intense rage and fear, as he made his way towards the entrance.


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


When Buffy got to the entrance, she grinned in relief when she saw Giles standing there, and her grin broadened, when he stepped aside and revealed the figures of Willow and Tara, standing just behind him. She flung her arms round Willow, and then jumped back when a rage-filled roar sounded behind them. Spike, in game face, was stalking down the corridor. Willow raised a shaking hand reflexively and said, “repel” and the vampire flew backwards through the air, to crash into the wall.

Buffy looked at him in horror – it looked as though he had been turned into that mindless, feral vampire from before. The witches must have got a spell through when the barrier was down. He was lying stunned for the moment, but she knew that he would not take long to recover.

“Quickly,” she said, “get into the office and don’t leave unless I tell you.”

“Here!” Giles tossed a stake towards her and she caught it without thinking. “Are you sure you’ll be OK?”

She nodded grimly, and they hastily retreated into the office.

Spike getting to his feet, his mind filled with bewildered rage, watched the humans disappear into another room and then brought his attention to the lone female before him. It was the same beautiful woman who had comforted him when he was a helpless prisoner, with only half his senses. What had happened? What was this place? He tried hard, but couldn’t remember.

Buffy approached him, sick at heart, and braced herself for what she knew she had to do. He made no attempt to attack, but was looking at her, his head slightly tilted. He looked even more puzzled when she said, “I’m sorry Spike,” and, tossing the stake aside, hit him as hard as she could. He crashed into the wall again, but sprang up with a snarl. She hit him again and again, as he brought his arms up in a half-hearted attempt to protect himself. She feinted with her left fist and then punched him hard in the stomach. As he folded, she brought her knee up and struck his chin. This time, he stayed down much longer, eventually staggering to his feet and shaking his head. She beat him mercilessly, until he could no longer stand. He still had not touched her.

She kneeled over him, grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him up. “You are mine!” she grated. Then, some primitive instinct telling her what to do, she tangled her fingers in his hair, dragged his head to one side and before she could think about it, bit down as hard as she could on his neck. His blood flooded into her mouth, and it was all she could do not to vomit. She said again, “you are mine! Say it!”

His bloodshot golden eyes met hers. He raised a shaking finger to her face, and wiped some of the blood that was dripping down from her lips. He brought it to his mouth and licked the blood off. He swallowed hard and whispered, “I am yours.”

The vampire gazed up at this strong, glorious warrior who had claimed him and rescued him from a strange and frightening world. It was no shame to a vampire, submitting to a superior female. He had swallowed the blood and, although technically it was his own, it didn’t matter, he’d completed the ritual.

Buffy nearly lost it when his bleeding and broken mouth stretched into a smile and he asked. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Buffy,” she smiled at him sadly.

“And do you know who I am?” He asked, and was horrified when her face twisted and she began to sob. He had no idea why she was so upset, only that he had to be the cause of it. Had he hurt her in some way, maybe eaten one of her human companions? Her head drooped down, so he cautiously put his arms loosely around her and laid his forehead against hers, trying to give her some comfort.

Buffy took a long, shaky breath and told him he was called Spike. He nodded in acceptance, but showed no recognition. She straightened and, wiping her face roughly, told him to stay where he was. She made her way slowly towards the office.


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


A quartet of anxious, worried faces greeted her.

“What have you done?” Hilda asked, terrified of what the answer might be.

“He’s still alive – or undead, don’t worry.” Buffy said tiredly and then explained what had happened.

“You bit him?” Willow whispered. “How did you know what to do?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed right at the time. Maybe some of the research Giles made me read actually sank in.”

“Was that wise Buffy? “ Giles asked her. “It might be for the best if you staked him.”

“No-one is staking him!” Buffy said harshly, “it’s not his fault. He didn’t even fight back – he just let me beat him to a pulp. I don’t understand.” She felt the tears well up again.

“He loves you, even in this state, it’s the only explanation” said Hilda her voice filled with wonder.

“Loves her! Don’t be foolish, the only person Spike loves is Spike.” Giles removed his glasses and began polishing them.

“Oh, for goodness sake Rupert wake up! Spike has loved Buffy for years.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, while they all avoided each other’s eyes. Then Buffy went to the door.

“I’ll go and get him. Make sure he understands not to attack any of you.”


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


Buffy brought the vampire into the office, and he was gratified at the nervous way they looked at him.

She introduced each of them one by one.

“This is Willow. She is my friend; if you hurt her you hurt me.”

Buffy lifted his hand up and put it on the witch’s shoulder. Willow gave him a shaky smile and tried not to flinch away. Buffy repeated the exercise with each of them. When she got to Giles, Spike growled low in his chest and tried to resist putting his hand anywhere near the human. Buffy insisted, and reluctantly Spike submitted, still growling.

Buffy then led the vampire over to the bed and sat him down. She fetched the first aid box and began to tend to his face.

Spike sat and endured the smelly, stinging cloth that was being wiped over his features, because it meant that she was near him. His anchor, in this bewildering place. When she had finished and was about to leave him, he took her hand and looked at her questioningly, seeming to ask her permission for something. She smiled at him and he brought her hand to his lips and began to lick her bruised and cut knuckles. She made to drag her hand away, but when she saw his hurt expression, she smiled again and he resumed. Buffy didn’t know whether to be revolted or charmed by his actions.

When she rejoined the others, his eyes never left her.


TBC

I hope you're still liking this?

Selena was frightened. And at times, she admitted to herself, she was terrified.

It all started when Hilda had brought a vampire to the coven meeting, and caused uproar. Selena couldn’t see what all the fuss was about – he seemed subdued and well in hand, and looked rather yummy, to her inexperienced eyes.

When two of the most powerful witches in the coven approached her for help, she was astounded and really flattered. Alice and Jane had explained to her that the vampire had somehow got Hilda under his thrall, and the only way to help her escape was to attack said vampire. The fact that Selena was the youngest and most untried witch didn’t matter; they needed her to boost their magic.

It all seemed quite logical and she was thrilled to be part of it. They spun their magic, expecting the vampire to run from the house, into their hands. Unfortunately, Hilda intervened and seemed to be one jump ahead of them. The vampire and the witch had vanished. Undeterred, Alice and Jane had sent a spell after them, this time to make the vampire attack Hilda.

“Serves her right – she brought in on herself. She’s protecting him.” Alice had said coldly. This spell also seemed to fail.

Alice lost her composure, swearing and lashing out, and the young witch dated her fear from that time. When Selena suggested that they needed a more powerful witch to help them, and offered to go to the coven for help, Alice said that no one from the coven was to know about this. If they got to know, then Alice would know who told them. Selena had gulped and dropped the matter. The two older witches began to watch her closely, never letting her out of their sight. She overheard them one night, talking about how things would change when Alice was head of the coven and Jane her second in command.

When Alice and Jane had used dark magic to enter Hilda’s mind using Selena’s wild magic as a booster, she was sickened but helpless, and too terrified to do anything about it. The vampire had defeated them again and Alice’s rage was terrible to see.

Since then, they had spent days trying to find the pair, using some of the vampire’s hair for a tracking spell. They had been led on a wild goose chase all over London, following some kind of signal that only the two older witches could sense. Now they were sure that they had finally run them to ground. Literally.

“They are under here somewhere,” muttered Alice darkly, looking down at the tarmacked road under her feet. Selena couldn’t see how they could possibly be under the wide and busy road, until Alice and Jane exchanged a glance, “they must be in the underground.” Jane said triumphantly.

And so they found themselves wandering round the tunnels, following the pull of magic.

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

Spike watched the humans talk and argue for what seemed like hours. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he began pacing backwards and forwards across the room.

“I’m hungry. Sodding starving.” He groaned.

Buffy looked up at him and he stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry,” he said again pleadingly.

She smiled at him sorrowfully, “I’ll see what I can do, but for now please sit down, we are trying to plan a way out of this.”

Reluctantly he obeyed.


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


“I don’t think it’s far now.” Alice said eagerly, “come on, stop dragging your feet.” She tugged on Selena’s wrist, spitefully.

In the distance, they heard a dreadful noise. It sounded like screaming. Then the magical barrier, which was keeping them from their prey, failed.

“Quickly, we might be too late! I must be the one to destroy that evil, bloodsucking monster.” Alice’s face was transformed by hatred.

They ran the last few yards to the entrance. A growling, snarling sound, led them to a door, which was slightly ajar.

They stopped just inside. The sight before them was so dreadful, that they had trouble comprehending it. There were blood soaked bodies scattered about everywhere. Over the other side of the room, the vampire was crouched over the body of his last victim. He was avidly chewing and sucking on her neck and growling warningly.

Even Alice seemed shocked. Then she shook herself and smiled.

“I see the vampire has turned on those who helped him. Poor Hilda.” Her insincerity was sickening. “Come on, we must punish this monstrous demon.”

She raised her hand, and the vampire howled as a deep slash appeared on his chest.

It was just too much for Selena. She managed to wrench her arm from Alice’s grasp and move away, before hunching over and vomiting.

“We’ve done this.” She gasped, “It’s our fault! If we hadn’t interfered, this would never have happened. Oh why did I ever believe you?” She started to sob.

Still howling, the vampire started to crawl away to the far wall. The two older witches followed, Alice had a vicious grin on her face. “We have enough power between us to finish this – we’ll deal with Selena later.” She muttered to Jane.

Raising her hand again, another deep wound struck the vampire, sending him sprawling. “We mustn’t get too carried away now – let’s make this last.” Alice’s high-pitched giggle sent shivers down Selena’s back.

Then, something extraordinary happened. All the corpses jumped to their feet and began to chant, weaving a binding spell. Alice’s scream was cut short, as a sparking, magical rope bound her and Jane together. The rope became tighter and then they were swept off their feet, to hang suspended from the ceiling.

Buffy, Willow, Tara, Hilda and Giles grinned at each other, teeth shining bright against their blood stained faces – they had done it. But at such a cost, thought the Slayer as she ran across to the unconscious figure of Spike.


TBC


I had been wondering if the interest in this story was tailing off - and then you sent me all that wonderful feedback! Thank you!!

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

Spike clawed his way up through the darkness. It was towards the pain he knew, but he also knew that it was towards his golden warrior. She would fix him, he was sure. He could hear the females yammering on about healing spells, what to do with the captured witches, where to go next and the difficulty of getting blood out of the carpet and then Buffy’s voice made all the others’ fade into the background.

“Spike. Spike, can you hear me?”

He slowly opened his eyes and was rewarded by her expression of relief and a beautiful smile.

“Hungry.” He whispered.

“Here, I’ve warmed some blood for you.”

She gently lifted him up, and held a cup to his lips. It was the same revolting muck that she had given him before. He wrinkled his sensitive nose and turned his head away. Last time she had told him that this was the only blood available, but now he could clearly see a human female sitting across the room. This was the witch that was with the bitches that had hurt him – surely they would let him eat her.

Buffy saw the vampire’s change of expression, and followed his look.

“She’s under my protection Spike – off limits.”

He looked at her in astonishment – next she was going to tell him that the whole sodding human race was under her protection, and that he’d have to eat this muck for the rest of his unlife. He grumbled unhappily, reluctantly nuzzled at the cup and drained it, unsuccessfully trying to block out the taste and texture. It wouldn’t heal him as fast as hot, fresh, living human blood. He stopped the thought, before he was overcome with bloodlust.

Giles, noticing that the vampire was awake, slowly approached him. The Watcher hunkered down so that he was on a level with Spike and, ignoring a rumbling growl, started to speak.

“I have to say that when Buffy proposed her plan for the defeat of the witches, I thought that you would not, or could not comply. But you handled the situation admirably, and I’ll admit that we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

He smiled tentatively, but when Spike just gave him a flat-eyed stare, he rose to his feet,

“Yes, well, um, we have a lot to accomplish here before we leave. I’ll see how everyone is doing.” He moved rapidly away.

The vampire slowly turned his head and looked at Buffy,

“Huh?”

“He said sorry and thank you.”

“Oh,” Spike said blankly.

Buffy looked at her Watcher’s retreating back affectionately. Wasn’t that just like Giles – very proper and correct. He must have known that the vampire wouldn’t understand him in this state, yet he did the right thing anyway.

Buffy lifted Spike’s head on to her lap and began to rhythmically stroke his hair. His eyelids drooped and he relaxed. She looked down at him sadly, his handsome features twisted into his demon face. Not that he was repulsive this way, but it reminded her of all the times that they had fought to kill each other.

“How is he?” Hilda sat down next to Buffy.

“I don’t really know. Willow and Tara said that the healing spell should work, but they have never tried it on a vampire before – so we are all of the unknowing.”

Hilda nodded, “and how are you?”

Buffy’s face crumpled and tears stood out in her eyes. “I’m OK until someone sympathises, and then I can’t seem to hold it together. “ She took a deep breath to try and control her emotions. “Do you think we’ll ever get him back? I miss him so much.”

Spike had been drifting down to the comforting darkness, but when he heard the anguish in Buffy’s voice, he began to take notice. Who was this, whose loss caused her so much pain? Jealousy stabbed at him like a knife, and he decided that when he had his strength back, he would search for this man and kill him. But no, that would cause her even more pain. He stopped, completely confused – he couldn’t do anything that would hurt her. Well he’d sleep on it and make up his mind later.


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


Hilda looked down at the sleeping vampire and sighed, “We have to know what kind of spell they used, to be able to reverse it. They must have used the black arts, I have seen nothing like this before.”

Selena, who had been trying to keep a very low profile, spoke up hesitantly, “I think I know which spell they used – it’s in a book they kept locked away all the time.”

She looked around at the five hostile faces surrounding her and gave them a sickly smile. “I, er, I can show you if you like.”

Buffy looked at her coldly, “They didn’t have a book when we captured them. Where is it, in some magical cavern somewhere?”

“Noooo, it’s in their car.”

“Well, come on then – let’s go get it!” Hilda sprang to her feet, dragging the young witch with her.

Buffy wanted to go with them, in case they ran into any vampires on the way. But Willow and the others didn’t fancy being left with Spike, in case he woke up. So, in the end, they all went, leaving Buffy to look after her vampire.

She watched him sleep for a while and then leaned over and gently stroked his brow ridges. She knew in her heart that if they couldn’t restore Spike to himself, then the future looked very bleak for him. She couldn’t go back to Sunnydale and leave him behind – without her guidance, he would go back to hunting and killing. In the same way, she couldn’t take him back with her (even if they could find a way), because she would have to stay with him every minute of every day or use restraints all the time. It was impossible! She had destroyed a man she’d loved before – she couldn’t do it again. But what else could she do? Tears started to run down her face, and drip down on to his.

He stirred, licking the salty liquid from his lips. His golden eyes opened and he looked at her in consternation.

“What’s wrong?”

She had no words for him. She just gathered him up and hugged him tightly. He stifled a groan as his wounds complained, then laid his head on her chest, breathing in her intoxicating scent. When she loosened her grip, he pulled back and asked,

“Can I find him for you? Just give me something with his scent on it, I’ll track him down and bring him to you.”

Bewildered, Buffy looked at him, “What are you talking about?”

He explained that he had overheard her talking to the one they called Hilda, about having lost someone and missing him so much. His voice tailed off. Why was she looking at him like that? As if he had said something really funny - or really stupid. And then she was crying again! He would never understand humans. He stroked her arm tentatively, trying to give her some comfort.

“Don’t cry – I won’t speak of it again.”

That just made her cry even harder.



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

He had never thought he’d be happy to see the noisy herd of humans return, but it made Buffy wipe away her tears, and attempt a smile. She rose and went to join them, as they chattered about some books they had found.

“Some of those are mine!” Hilda said angrily, “they must have stolen them from my house.”

Giles was examining a large and intricately bound volume, “this is the Langetesse Codex,” his voice full of awe, “it’s so rare and dangerous, that the one in the Council’s library is locked away.”

“Um, that’s the one they used.” Selena volunteered.

“Where in the hell did they get it?” Giles’ voice was rough.

She shrank back from his anger, “I don’t know – you’d have to ask them.”

They all looked over to the monitor screen, which showed the two witches, still under the binding spell but now locked in the cell that had recently held Spike.

“Well, that doesn’t matter for now. Can we reverse what was done to Spike?” Buffy was impatient with all the delay.

“We can try Buffy – that’s all we can do.”

They began the task of clearing the room again and marking the floor. Spike watched them disinterestedly – they seemed to make life so complicated, when it was really very simple. They talked and argued and then talked some more. He shook his head, curled up and dozed off, conserving his strength.

At last they were ready. They had arranged for Hilda to cast the spell, with Willow, Tara and Selena boosting her slowly returning power.

Buffy shook the vampire awake.

“Come and sit inside this circle,” she instructed him.

Trustingly, he followed her and crouched down in the place she had indicated.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be watching out for you,” Buffy smiled reassuringly.

He nodded, licking his lips nervously, keeping his eyes fastened on her face.

And it began.

The vampire crouched where Buffy had left him, his eyes fixed on her. If he could see her, he was sure that everything would be OK.

The women grouped around him began to chant and suddenly all the hairs on his body were standing on end. He heard a crackling, hissing sound and when he tore his eyes from Buffy’s and looked down at his hands, he saw that they were covered in tiny sparking blue flames. He snarled in surprise and, taking a deep breath to howl, found he could make no sound. He began to pant, trying to calm himself as everything faded away. Then he had the sensation of falling and he closed his eyes waiting for the impact of his landing.


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

Buffy shifted uneasily under the vampire’s steady gaze. He trusted her completely and she had no idea what was about to happen to him. Hilda smiled at them encouragingly and linked hands with the other three witches, before taking a deep breath and beginning to chant.

When the tiny blue flames smothered him, Buffy started forward only to be stopped by Giles.

“Buffy, you can’t break the circle now – it may interfere with the spell.”

She bit her lip as she saw Spike’s growing terror and when he slumped to the floor she cried out,

“What’s happening? You’re hurting him!”

Giles wrapped his arms around his slayer and hugged her to him.

“Keep calm; they know what they are doing.” Well, he hoped they knew what they were doing.


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


Spike slowly opened his eyes when the falling sensation stopped. He was standing in a darkened room, its opulence a startling contrast to the underground office that he had just left. Plush red velvet curtains hung at the windows and the furniture was over ornate. He heard a noise behind him.

“Ah, sweet William, do you want to share my delicious dinner?”

He swung round. A beautiful dark-haired dark-eyed woman stood before him in a magnificent tight waisted long dress, blood trickling down her chin. She was negligently holding out to him the slumped figure of an unconscious man. Lowering her head and looking at him through her eyelashes, she grinned and then giggled.

“Oooh are you still cross with me? I know you saw him first, but princess was so very hungry.” She pouted.

“Who the hell?”

She swayed and then, throwing the man aside, approached him seductively.

“What game are we playing now my Spike?”

Suddenly he knew who this was.

“Drusilla.”

She was his sire. She meant pain and suffering and torment – he knew he should want to be with her – but he felt nothing, other than a faint regret. He shook his head in confusion and started to back away from her. He turned and found himself in another room, which looked a lot like a cell with moisture running down rough stone walls. He couldn’t move, his arms were suspended above his head and a tall, dark, thickset vampire brandishing a whip was grinning at him evilly.

“So, Willy me boy. I’m going to have to chastise you again. You are such a slow learner.”

Spike looked down at his chest and saw that it was covered in weals and his head felt as though it was on fire.

“Angelus”

The name came to him without effort, as hatred surged through his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and immediately he was falling again.


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


Hilda completed the spell and there was a flash of blinding light. They
drew forward and looked expectantly at the prone body of the vampire. When he stayed motionless, they all started to talk at once.

“Hasn’t it worked?”

“Nothing’s happened!”

“Is he OK?”

“Is he dead? Well, I know he’s already dead, but is he deader than he ought to be?” At a glare from Buffy, Willow made a zipping motion across her lips. “And shutting up now.”

When Spike suddenly started thrashing and moaning, it took them by surprise and they all took a step back.

“Oh my god, Spike. Spike!”

Buffy pushed through them, crouched down, pulled him into her arms and sat rocking him back and forward. Spike slowly opened his eyes and his face gradually transformed into human as he gazed up at her.

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


Giles watched them, his suspicions realised. Not again, he groaned inwardly. Not another vampire – please! He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would have to nip this in the bud – perhaps it hadn’t gone too far yet. Maybe it was just Buffy’s tender heart reacting to a wounded creature. Yes, that must be it he thought with relief. When the vampire is up and about and back to normal, she will come to her senses.

“They make a magnificent couple, don’t they?” Hilda’s voice interrupted his musings and he started in surprise.

“Not quite how I’d describe them.” He answered acerbically. “I was rather going for slayer taking pity on a harmless vampire, myself.”

Hilda interrupted again apparently not having heard him, “do you think she deserves him?”

Giles was speechless for a moment and then managed, “Surely you’ve got that the wrong way around, haven’t you?”

But she wasn’t listening to him; she was staring at the couple, an unreadable expression on her face. Then she seemed to shake herself.

“Come on, we’ve lots of clearing up to do before we leave.”



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



Buffy held the shaking vampire closely.

“I thought I’d lost you”

He looked up at her and she could see comprehension filling his eyes.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I’m starting to.” He grimaced as he tried to sit up and then his expression changed.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, “you bit me!”

Not hearing, she smiled at him, “how are you feeling? Any nasty after effects?”

“You bit me!” He said in a louder voice.

“Well, yeah, it was all I could think of to do at the time.” Her smile faltered, “What’s wrong?”

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

“Oh, come on – it’s all healed up now. You can’t even see a mark.”

“No, Buffy, I mean do you know the significance of what you’ve done?”

He sounded so serious. She looked at his anxious face and her heart lurched.

“What are you talking about? I did what I did to save your life and the lives of everyone here.” Suddenly Buffy felt defensive. “You would’ve attacked them otherwise and I couldn’t allow that.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “We went through a kind of mating ritual, but the meaning is much deeper than that. It means that we’re now joined.”

“Oooh, Mr and Mrs Vampire! I like the sound of that.” She grinned at him.

“Don’t make fun of what you don’t understand.” He felt rage and despair fill him and he struggled to his feet, pushing her away.

“You’re right – I don’t understand. Why don’t you explain it to me?” Buffy looked around suddenly aware that everyone was looking at them. “Come on, we need to talk about this.”

She grasped his arm and pulled him towards the door. She was furious with him, having so looked forward to getting the “real” Spike back so much and now all he could do was argue.

The vampire staggered and nearly fell, he was so weak from pain and loss of blood. Buffy’s arm snaked round his waist and she supported him until they reached the dormitory. Once there, he slumped down on one of the bunk beds and put his head in his hands.

“Come on; explain to me why what I did was so wrong.”

“Not wrong luv, just a hell of a lot more meaningful than you realise. I don’t know whether I can explain it properly, it’s all to do with vampire lore and such like.”

He took a deep breath, this was going to be the most difficult and important thing that he would ever talk to her about.

“You know that vampires don’t have friends – you are either a leader or a follower – master or minion. When a vampire is made, if he is lucky, his sire takes an interest in him and teaches him how to survive. Most of the vampires you deal with are those that are sired and left to take care of themselves.

Very rarely two vamps – usually a male and a female, but not always – decide that they want to take the relationship further. They then go through a ritual and are joined -forever.”

He looked up at her despairingly, she was so beautiful and desirable but she had no notion of what she had done.

“Do you understand Buffy? Forever. That means till the end of their existence. There is no get out clause, no separation, no divorce. I am now bound to you and you to me, until one of us dies.”



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


TBC

“Do you understand Buffy? Forever. That means till the end of our existence. There is no get out clause, no separation, no divorce. I am now bound to you and you to me, until one of us dies.”

Spike waited for the inevitable fireworks from the slayer. Instead an awful frozen look slid over her features that said “I don’t want to talk about it,” and wrapping her arms round herself, she silently left the room

He watched her leave. When the door was safely shut, he put his head back into his hands and let out the sob that had been choking him.


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

Buffy sagged against the wall and then slid down it until she was crouched on her heels. Joined forever! Bound to each other until death! The whole idea was terrifying; they had only just started the relationship. Of course he said that he’d loved her for a long time – but it was so new for her.

She looked up and saw Giles approaching.

“Are you alright Buffy? What has he been saying to upset you?”

Buffy shakily tried to explain the situation, “he says we’re bound together now”

Giles straightened, “What rot! I’ll have a word with him and sort this out.”

Buffy watched him enter the dormitory, not knowing what to feel.



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

Spike looked up, hope surging in his chest. Then he saw it was Giles.

“Oh great,” he snarled, “My bloody day is made. What do you want watcher?”

“What is this load of poppycock you have been filling Buffy’s head with? Do you think she will really believe that she has to spend the rest of her life with you, just because you say so?”

“Oh sod off you prick! I don’t need to listen to you whinging on.”

“I have never heard of this “binding” of vampires, it’s just a pathetic excuse to get your own way.”

“I’ll explain this to you once – and then you leave me alone! The reason you haven’t heard of it – apart from the fact that you are a crappy excuse for a watcher – is that it is extremely rare.”

“Mmmm, very convenient.” Giles’ voice dripped with sarcasm, “no-one seems to have heard of it except you.”

He ended the sentence with an undignified yelp. Spike had moved in a blur and was suddenly face to face with the watcher.

“You believe what you sodding well like. Now get out!”

Giles moved instinctively. He pulled out a stake from his jacket and plunged it towards the vampire’s chest. Spike grinned maniacally, caught the watcher’s wrist and twisted. Giles cried out in pain, dropped the stake and fell to his knees.

“Bloody hell, the chip. The chip didn’t activate!” The watcher gasped and the enormity of this thought blocked out the pain as he looked up at Spike in confusion.

“How long?”

Spike’s reaction was not what he was expecting. The vampire’s shoulders drooped; he retreated to the bunk and slumped down, his face a mask of misery.

“Just bugger off will you. If anyone’s going to dust me, it’ll be Buffy.”

He refused to say any more, just pulled his knees up and rested his head on them, wrapping his arms round his legs.

Giles backed out of the room and shakily made his way back to the others.

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


Buffy heard the raised voices and suddenly it was too much for her. She had to get away, be alone and think about what had happened. Without a backward glance she ran down the tunnels towards the exit.

Wandering through the sunlit streets, she marvelled that people were just carrying on their normal lives as if nothing had happened. She had had a literally life changing experience and no-one knew. The sound of trucks thundering by was too distracting, she desperately needed to be somewhere quiet so she turned down a side road. At last she came upon a small, green oasis called St Matthew’s Gardens. It was a churchyard complete with gravestones she noted wryly.

Sinking down on a bench she forced herself to think about what had just happened. What had she done? It didn’t seem to matter that what had happened had been an accident; there was no choice in the matter.

And that was the crux – no choice. She had been given no choice when she was made a slayer. Angel had given her no choice when he’d left her and neither had her dad. Now it seemed as if she had no choice but to be with Spike for the rest of her life.

But, she reasoned, it wasn’t Spike’s fault – he’d had no choice either. She now knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her, the question was – did she love him enough?

OK, she thought - pros and cons. Life without Spike. She’d go back to America and pick up her life where she’d left it. With a guilty pang she remembered she’d got a boyfriend to go back to. Riley – she’d not given him a thought in days. Hmm, back to him, with his polite and appeasing ways – the exact opposite of a certain vampire.

Life with Spike. Being with him 24/7. Him with his irritating, exciting, cruel, loving ways. Never knowing what to expect from one moment to the next. Always having someone to watch her back, never ceasing to love her even though he knew her inside and out, never leaving.

If she did decided against the bonding – what would happen then? Spike had said they were bound until one of them died. Would she have to stake him?

She began to feel a little woozy, an aching pain in her chest. It must be too much sun after such a long time underground she thought.


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


The witches stared at Giles in shock as he told them what had happened.
“Oh goddess!” Willow whispered. “Will he kill us all now? He’s tried to kill me a few times and I mean, it’s not something I wanna go through again. I mean he was all growly and fangy and really, really frightening with the glass in the face and the….”

“Hush sweetie, you’ll be OK. I’m sure that you are more than a match for him now.” Tara looked fondly at the red head.

“Don’t you think that if he wanted to kill us he would have done so by now?” Hilda said impatiently. “We all know he’s hungry – he’s been surviving on pig’s blood and that ran out ages ago. We used most of it to fool Alice into thinking he’d attacked us remember?”

“He didn’t attack me just now.” Giles admitted reluctantly, “He just disarmed me and then walked away. I don’t understand – now that he’s not limited by the behavioural chip, he’s free to do what he wants.”

“Obviously what he wants doesn’t include us for lunch.” Hilda felt angry that none of them saw the vampire as part of their group after all that they’d been through.

Giles and the other witches began to speculate upon what Spike’s next move would be. Hilda backed away and slipped through the door.


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


Spike heard someone enter but didn’t have the heart to look to see who it was.

“Not good company – I’d leave if I were you, while you can.”

The person ignored his advice and plonked themselves down at the other end of the bunk.

He sighed and looked up to see Hilda regarding at him. “Didn’t you hear me?” He said rudely.

She said nothing, simply smiled at him. He shrugged, well if that’s what made her happy, he’d not got the energy to argue any more. He lowered his head back on to his arms and sighed.

They sat in silence for a while and, after the initial irritation, Spike began to draw comfort from her presence.

“Didn’t want to love her you know. In fact I didn’t realise that I was in love with her for a long time – just wanted to kill her as was right and proper. But then there she was - part of me. I fought against it but she won in the end, even though she didn’t know it.” His laugh came out as a sob and he found that he was telling Hilda everything about his love.

He’d never talked to anyone like this – not in his human life and certainly not in his vampire unlife – this must be what friendship was. Some of the tension leached out of him so he uncurled and leaned back against the wall.

“Don’t know what she’ll do now. She sets such store on what the watcher and her friends think and I don’t need to be a brain surgeon to know what that is.”

Hilda watched him unburden himself and longed to take him in her arms, but didn’t know what his reaction would be.

“You know the chip doesn’t work right? Aren’t you afraid I’ll take a bite now?” His attempt at humour was spoiled by the unshed tears in his eyes.

“No.” she said simply.

He swallowed hard, “I’m glad I met you Hildy.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

It was her turn to swallow hard and she tried not to let him see how it affected her.

“Ditto.”


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

TBC

Thanks to those of you who sent feedback - it keeps me updating regularly!! I have been replying to them all individually, but its kinda got away from me now - but please be sure I value every one of them.

Buffy sat in the sunshine, her head spinning; she was feeling stranger by the minute. There was a peculiar pulling sensation in her chest, which she rubbed absently. What should she do? Suddenly she knew that she had to get back – now! She sprang to her feet and moved swiftly back towards the tunnels, she had to face her problems, not run away from them. In rhythm to the pad of her feet she was chanting in her mind “what shall I do? What shall I do?”

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

Spike felt as though someone had put an iron band round his chest and was slowly tightening it. If only she’d come back and put him out of his misery, one way or another.

The “big bad” façade that he’d nurtured all these years had completely deserted him now and he felt naked without it. Hilda, taking the hint that he wanted some time on his own, had left. He didn’t want anyone to witness Buffy’s rejection of him, or his dusty demise.

After all, why would she want to be tied to him for the rest of her life? Sure, they’d had a wonderful time – the sex had been spectacular – but she hadn’t said that she loved him. In fact, she had avoided any mention of love. The vampire groaned to himself – why the hell did he have to fall for a slayer?

He heard the door open and suddenly she was there. The pain in his chest increased. Buffy saw him slouching on the bunk, staring back at her insolently.

“Well slayer. Come to tell me my fate have you? Come on then, sodding well get it over with.”

A short time ago, this would have earned him a punch on the nose, or at least a sarcastic reply. But now, she seemed to see him, really see him for the first time. He thought she was going to hurt him, so he was lashing out at her as a defence mechanism. How did she get such insight? It had to be the bond.

She reached down, grabbed hold of the front of his t-shirt and hauled him to his feet.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Hey! What’re you doing?”

“I want everyone to hear this.”

She transferred her hold to his hand and pulled him towards the door. He made as if to argue, then his shoulders slumped and he allowed her to lead him into the office.

The witches and Giles stopped their conversation and stared at the two standing in the doorway.

“I think it’s best if everyone hears this at the same time.” Buffy squared her shoulders. “I’ve somehow managed to bind myself to this vampire for life – don’t know how I did it – but it’s a fact. I had to get away to think about it and come to my decision.”

Buffy heard the vampire take a deep, unnecessary breath and she tightened her hold on his hand.

“And now I know what I have to do.”

She could feel Spike at her side vibrating with tension.

“I love him and want to be with him for the rest of my life, however long that is.”

She turned and watched the change of expression on Spike’s face. It went from shock, followed by disbelief, cautious hope and then sheer amazement. Then he gave her such a look of fathomless love that it took her breath away.

“Buffy. Love.” Was all he could manage before he caught her up in his arms and held her to his breast. She gently disentangled herself and turned to the others again.

“He completes me. We are soul mates.”

Buffy, he doesn’t *have* a soul!” Giles said desperately.

“Yes he does. He has mine. He won’t do anything to hurt me.”

“You say that as if you know it.”

“I do, Giles, I do.”

“Do you also know that the chip is no longer functional?”

Giles could see by Buffy’s reaction that she’d had no idea. She paused for a second and then said, “It makes no difference – I trust him.” Spike’s arms snaked around her waist.

Giles gave a bark of humourless laughter, “Don’t you realise, that this is just a spell. Like the last time you and Spike……” He couldn’t continue past the lump in his throat. Buffy had tuned him out and was now talking softly to the vampire. What sort of watcher was he to have allowed this to happen? He made his way to a chair and sank down on it.

“I’ll never do anything that hurts her you know.” Spike had moved so silently that the watcher started with surprise. “The bond works both ways.”

“Forgive me if I’m not jumping with joy.” Giles said bitterly and then he straightened, “I’ll find a way of breaking this bond if it’s the last thing I do.”

“You can’t mate, the only way it breaks is if one of us dies – and I’m guessing that you’re not about to off Buffy. So that leaves me. Do you think that it’ll make her happy if you dust me?” Spike asked seriously.

Giles’ glared at him without replying. Spike shrugged. Well he’d tried to mend fences, build bridges and what all. The fact that the watcher hated him had never worried the vampire before – he was just one of many. But he knew it would hurt Buffy. Still she couldn’t say he hadn’t tried.

He made his way back to his slayer who was chatting with the witches.

“Well Buffy, if you’re sure that’s what you want, of course I’ll be supportive girl.” Willow grinned nervously at Spike as he put his arm round Buffy’s shoulders. “I, I, I, er I’ll be all supporting.” She retreated to stand with Tara, who rubbed her arm comfortingly.

“Why’d you put me through that in front of everyone?” Spike asked curiously.

“They all needed to see your reaction first hand. Giles especially.”

“So you knew what it’d be then?” When all she did was to raise an eyebrow, he said, “Yeah, well.” And shuffled his feet and gave her a sheepish grin.

He thought of telling her about his little talk with the watcher, but then thought better of it. She’d find out soon enough. Suddenly they both became ultra alert.

“Vampires.”

“Yeah, luv, quite a few I’d guess.”

Giles saw their reaction from the other side of the room. Then he caught the word “vampire” and he swiftly picked up a crossbow and ran after them.

By the time he reached the entrance to the tunnels he could hear the sound of battle. Buffy and Spike were surrounded by vampires and were in full fighting mode. Giles gazed upon them in wonder; they were in total synchronisation, each fluid movement mirrored by the other. They looked as though they had been fighting vamps together for years. It was almost as if they were dancing.

Then he saw Spike falter. He must still be suffering from the after effects of his wounds and he staggered as a blow from a tall, burly vamp reached his chest. Another vampire took the chance to rush at him brandishing an axe. Buffy appeared to be unaware of the attack. As Giles looked on, everything seemed to go into slow motion. If someone else dusted Spike, she couldn’t blame her watcher could she? He’d be very supportive and understanding of her grief, perhaps it would even make them closer?

Sickened by his thoughts, Giles came to a decision, raised the crossbow and shot the axe bearing vamp. He felt curiously numb for a second, but after that was too busy defending himself to worry.

At last the witches joined in the fray and before long the fight was over.

Giles made another decision and acted upon it before he could change his mind. He strode towards the slayer and her vampire.

“You call that fighting?” he asked abruptly. They gaped at him. “I call it a disgrace! When we get back to Sunnydale, I expect to see you both at the Magic Box for training.” And with that he turned on his heel and marched back down the tunnel muttering under his breath.


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


TBC

Thanks to Rosie, Pam S & Kim for your encouraging feedback

They were making their way slowly back to the office, when Spike pulled Buffy to one side. Wrapping his arms round her, kissing her deeply, he sighed with satisfaction, a deep purring sound emanating from his chest. “You’re an incredible woman.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Buffy said, then, pulling back, she stared at him seriously, “I love you.”

Caught in mid smirk, his breath hitched in his throat and a flippant phrase died on his lips. He gave a wordless groan and placed his forehead against hers. “Oh, love; you don’t know what that means to me.”

Buffy realised that she hadn’t said it directly to him before. She’d told everyone else, but not him. She was astonished at how easily the words came to her, after all she wasn’t exactly well known for sharing her feelings. But everything about this seemed easy and right. Spike would always be there for her, always love her, sacrifice anything for her – something that she’d found frightening before. But now she felt the same, and it was liberating.

“Never stop loving you,” he paused as if searching for the right words, “but it’s not gonna be all bows and butterflies, right? It’s been a hellava time since I did any courting. No, let’s face it, never really done any, you know, courting.” For a second, he looked so shy and awkward that Buffy’s heart did a dance in her chest.

“Courting? There’s gonna be courting?” She grinned up at him, her eyes dancing with merriment. “I don’t exactly have a good track record myself, Spike. We’ll make it up as we go along.”

“No, I mean – vampire here.” He said pointing to his own chest, “I’m gonna make mistakes. Maybe not treat you right and not know I’m doing it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll soon let you know,” she said with mock severity. “Anyway, let’s take one day at a time. Okay?”

Encouraged, he grinned at her, “bound to have fun along the way, eh?”

“Yeah, now let’s get back to the others. We need to get out of here.”

Spike hugged her again, “Can’t be soon enough for me.”


_________________________________


Back in the office, Buffy moved towards the witches, Spike was about to follow, when Giles intercepted him.

“A word.” The Watcher looked grim.

Spike sighed in exasperation. “What now?”

“If anything happens to Buffy because of you, vampire, I promise I’ll hunt you down, to the ends of the earth if necessary, and end your miserable unlife.”

“We’re singing from the same hymn sheet, Watcher. I just got through telling you that I’d never hurt her.”

“I’m just letting you know where I stand in all this.” Giles said stonily.

Spike gave him an appraising look, “I’m not taking your place y’know. She’ll still need someone to guide her, plan for her, do research for her.”

Giles was torn between surprise and rage at the vampire’s insight. How had this unsouled, demonic being, known what he was thinking?

While Spike had been talking to the Watcher, Hilda received a phone call from the Professor, inviting them all to stay with him now he had been discharged from hospital.

“He wants to speak to you.” Hilda said offering Spike the phone.

“Me?” Spike looked askance at the instrument, as if it was a poisonous snake about to strike any moment. “What’s he want with me?”

“He didn’t say – why don’t you ask him?” The witch said testily.

Spike reluctantly reached for the receiver. He considered the professor to be a right wanker, but on his travels with Buffy, Mackness had attacked a vampire in a novel and amusing way – a screwdriver in the eye, no less - so maybe he’d give him the benefit of doubt.

“What.” He said rudely. Buffy poked him painfully in the ribs and gave him a glare. “What can I do for you Professor Mackness?” he said with exaggerated politeness, grinning at his Slayer.

He then listened with sharpened interest at what the professor had to say, just grunting every now and again. He eventually passed the telephone receiver back to Hilda and pulled Buffy into a tight hug. “The prof has told me where to find the place that the Scribe used for his forging. He says it has all the equipment necessary to make me a passport.”


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

It was decided that all the others would go to the professor’s, while Spike and Buffy would follow later once they found the Scribe’s hideout.

The two renegade witches were carefully escorted to their car and magically bound again. Hilda elected to drive them, along with Willow as backup. Giles, Selena and Tara would follow in the watcher’s car, leaving Hilda’s for Buffy and Spike.

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

Using the instructions that Mackness had given them, the forger’s hideout wasn’t hard to find. Buffy proceeded to take Spike’s photograph

“Come on, let’s get with the photos.” Buffy said.

Spike immediately struck a pose, and giggling, she took several photographs, one after the other.

“Um, how are we going to get these printed?” She asked after a while.

“No problem, luv, this is a digital camera, we just connect it with the computer and away we go.”

She looked at him in astonishment, “Hey, wonder boy, how’d you know that?”

“It’s my innate intelligence and canny know-how,” he said with a smirk.

When she just raised her eyebrows, he gave her a sheepish smile, “Well, I did see a programme or two about it, on the telly.”

She smacked his arm “Come on canny, show me.”

They had some more fun, playing around with the images on the computer screen. “This one’s good.” Buffy said.

“What! It makes me look like a right loony.” Spike wailed.

“Everyone’s passport photo does that,” Buffy told him patiently, “if yours actually looks like you, they’ll be suspicious.”

The searched the room and found drawers full of blank passports from different countries. “What nationality do you think I should be? A sexy Swede?” Spike grinned at his Slayer.

“I think we should stick to the truth, as much as we can. You’re useless at accents; remember when you pretended to be American?”

The vampire shuddered as he thought about that time, when he had just escaped from the Initiative and was forced to trail along behind the whelp and the witch. “Yeah, luv, only too well.” He said soberly.

Then Buffy’s arms were around his waist and she whispered, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have been all big mouth Buffy. Forgive me?” He took a long time showing her his forgiveness in various, inventive ways.

“Come on,” she said breathlessly after a while, “the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get out of here.” She reached down and picked up a small red passport. “Why don’t you be my beautiful Brit?”



TBC

WOW!!! I have over a hundred reviews! Thanks to you all - it gives me such a boost.

Hilda breathed a sigh of relief as she put down the phone. Calling the coven had been something that she had been dreading, not knowing whether they would blame her for running off with Spike. She had spoken to her second in command, Hazel, who explained that they had all been desperately worried for her, thinking that said vampire had kidnapped, and maybe killed her. Hilda was then overcome with guilt at not contacting them before. She described what had happened and her friend, after expressing her disgust and concern at the rogue witches’ betrayal, offered to send help to bring them back to the coven. Hilda had accepted with relief.

As she made her way back to the others, Giles intercepted and asked if he could speak with her.

“Of course, Rupert.” She said warily. He looked very serious.

He ushered her into an unoccupied room and closed the door. Once they were seated, he seemed to have trouble coming to the point.

“I, ah, I, er, um.” Then he said in a rush, “I wanted to talk to you about Spike.”

She waited, and then when he said nothing more, she began to be a little impatient. “What did you want to know?”

“I have been trying to put aside all my preconceived ideas – in fact, everything that I’ve ever been taught – to understand what it is that makes Buffy love this monster. What hold does he have over her? Is it a spell? And if so, can it be broken?”

“No preconceived ideas, eh?” Hilda shook her head, “How many times has this monster saved our lives over the past few days? When you were attacked by those humans in the tunnels, he could have just run off. But instead he stayed, knowing that he couldn’t fight them, to try and protect you and Buffy. Even when he was in his feral state, he refrained from attacking us, just because she asked him not to. And I think you’ll find that it’s Buffy who has the hold over Spike, not the other way around. Spell indeed! ”

Giles put up his hands in defeat. “I know, I know, I’ve been thinking about all he’s done lately, and I can’t logically explain it away. I just want to try and understand him, for Buffy’s sake. It seems that he’s going to be part of her life now, whether I like it or not, so we’ll have to find a way of working together. I just wish ….” He gave her an agonised look and shrugged unhappily.

“I know it’s difficult for you to hear, but he loves her completely, and I think he always will, to the end of her life. Rupert, think about it, she’ll never have to patrol or train alone again. When I first met him, I was astonished to see that he had an aura with slashes of colour in it. Over the past few days, the colours have increased as he has been in her company. Don’t ask me what it means – I’ve never seen a demon with a coloured aura, or heard of one come to that. The only conclusion I can come up with, is that the demon didn’t completely destroy the human, when he was sired.”

Giles looked at her closely, “Do you mean to say that the aura has increased since the behavioural modification chip stopped functioning?”

“Yes, and I’m sure he won’t chance destroying what he has with Buffy, by going back to his old ways.” She said shrewdly.

“Mmm, this is not what a Watcher wants to hear.” Giles sighed heavily. “We prefer a neat pigeon hole. Vampire – evil killer – must be destroyed.”

“I suspect there’s a paper to be written about this, for the archives.” The witch said guilelessly.

Giles raised his eyebrows, “Oh come on, that’s laying it on a bit thick. Although, I have to say, it ‘s probably an area that will need to be investigated.”

Hilda smiled at him. “That means that you’ll have to actually talk to him, Rupert. Good luck with that!”



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


The quiet was shattered by the return of the slayer and vampire.

“Spike went all road rage-y”

“Sodding BMW drivers, they’re all the same. Think they own the bloody road.” Spike glowered at everyone.

“What happened?” Giles asked worriedly.

“We were deep in, um, conversation, when the traffic lights went green. We were a bit late in noticing.” Buffy replied, not meeting his eyes.

“Bloke behind started beeping his horn, and I got impatient.” Spike said reluctantly, “that’s all.” Off the Watcher’s look, he snapped. “Well, the stupid bloody git deserved it. Shouldn’t talk like that in front of a lady.”

“Deserved what?” Giles asked faintly.

“The man got out of his car and shouted that he’d – what was it Spike? He’d rip off your head and shove it...” The vampire rolled his eyes. “Spike flashed his fangs and the man nearly passed out.” Buffy covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. “We drove off and he just stood there, gaping after us.”

Giles looked at Buffy; her eyes alight with merriment, as she and the vampire exchanged a glance. When had he last seen her looking so relaxed and happy? He couldn’t remember. Then he caught Spike’s expression – a look of profound adoration – and he felt a weight shifting from his shoulders. This might just work after all.


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


After they had all eaten, with Spike muttering about “sodding animal blood again”, Willow asked to see Spike’s new passport.

“Why William Lydon? Is it your real name?”

“After John Lydon, and no it’s not my real name.” He sighed at her look of incomprehension. “You know, Johnny Rotten – Sex Pistols? Oh, bloody hell, you are all musical ignoramuses!”

“Ignorwhatisus?” Buffy sniggered. “That’s my boyfriend, all with the long words.”

Spike was so taken with being called her boyfriend, he forgot to be offended. “Can teach you a lot of long words, pet. With a lot of long……”

“Yes, thank you Spike.” Giles put in hastily, after seeing the provocative look the vampire was sending his Slayer. “We still have to find a way of getting you out of the country.”

“Thought maybe the wicca witch would be able to rustle up a cheap coffin off the internet.” Spike said evenly.

“Coffin? What would we want a coffin for?” Willow said in amazement.

Giles looked at Spike, who stared back impassively, and said. “No, it was a bad idea when I first suggested it – and it’s still a bad idea.” He smiled inwardly at the incredulous look the vampire shot him. “We’ll find another way.”

“Will someone please tell me what you’re all talking about?” Willow asked plaintively.

They explained that Giles’ idea was to send Spike back to the States as a dead body, hence the coffin.

“Maybe I can help?” Professor Mackness said tentatively.

All heads swung in his direction and he smiled shyly. “I received an invitation in the post last week. The dean of a Californian university read my paper on ancient British legends and he has invited me there to do a lecture tour on my specialist subject. In fact, he is so keen to have me visit, that he has offered to pay all my expenses and give me a tidy sum for every lecture. I put off replying to him, because, you know, being in hospital and everything. What if I say that I’ll only come with my research assistant, Bill Lydon?”


TBC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to TheCharmer, Kim, Sofia, Rosie and Kimmie for their much appreciated feedback. You guys rock!!

Buffy and Spike decided that they needed to get away from the others, to have some quality time together. She suggested showing him her “sanctuary” and they wandered off hand in hand towards the moonlit central garden. Spike felt, well he didn’t know how he felt. He was – happy. He’d thought he’d been happy with Drusilla, but that was an insignificant shadow of how he felt now. He drew in a deep breath that was a combination of the heady “Buffy” scent and the scent of the evening, and sighed it out happily. Without thinking what he was doing, he said,

“O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
And what is’t but mine own, when I praise thee?
Even for this let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv’st alone.
O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love;
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
And thou teachest how to make one twain
By praising him here who doth hence remain!”

He smiled and looked at Buffy who was staring at him open-mouthed. Bugger, he cursed to himself, what the hell was he thinking, spouting poofy poetry like that! What must she be thinking of him! Spike cringed inwardly, waiting for her response.

Buffy was having trouble formulating words, her lips moved, but she made no sound. She looked at this man, who was staring at her with, what was it, apprehension in his eyes? The Slayer was realising that the more she got to know him, the less she knew about him. Then she stuttered, “That was…. That was. Oh, Spike that was beautiful! “

His smile was laser-like in its brilliance. He drew her close and kissed her tenderly. “Got a lot more, if that’s what you like, luv. Had to learn it by heart at school. Shakespeare had a way with words, didn’t he?” Looking at her, he couldn’t believe his luck. What the hell did she see in him?

Buffy pulled him towards the bench in the centre of the garden and, as he sat down, nestled in his lap. His arms closed around her and she felt safe and secure. How weird was that, she smiled to herself, feeling secure in a vampire’s arms.

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


The next day, Spike woke up after the best sleep he’d had in a long time. He stretched and yawned, grinning at the memories of the previous night when, after lovemaking, he’d lain in the safety and security of the Slayer’s arms. The irony of that pleased him and he shrugged mentally. Looking at the sunlight glowing around the edges of the curtains, he estimated it to be mid morning. Bloody hell, he must be adapting to human hours without realising it. He made his way to the bathroom, showered and then ambled downstairs to find Buffy.

He entered the kitchen and stopped in shock, as he was confronted with a room full of witches. Memories of what had happened at Hilda’s house, made him struggle to keep out of game face. “Where’s Buffy?” he growled.

“She and the others have gone shopping.” Hilda smiled at him encouragingly. “Spike, these are my friends. I don’t think you were properly introduced last time.” I’ve told them about what happened, how you saved our lives, and they are dying to meet you.”

“Bloody hell, witch, you make me sound like soddin’ Lassie.” He said with a grin and the tension in the room evaporated. Hilda introduced the four other witches, who then began interrogating him about the effects the magic had had on him. Spike couldn’t help feeling a bit like a specimen on a microscope slide.

He finally lost patience with them, loudly complaining of hunger and the witches took the hint, leaving him in Hilda’s care. A mug of warmed pig’s blood was set in front of him and, grinning, she waved a package of Weetabix under his nose.

“Look what I found in the professor’s larder.”

Touched that she should remember, he thanked her and crumbled one into his blood. Shuddering slightly at the sight, Hilda sat beside him sipping her cup of tea.

“The others have gone to get Alice and Jane ready to go back to the coven.” She said slowly.

Spike froze. She was leaving. He suddenly felt as though he was teetering at the brink of a chasm. His stomach roiled and his chest was tight. What the hell was happening to him?

Hilda was fighting her own emotions. The vampire’s face was a mask of indifference – she couldn’t read him at all. He had seemed to feel something for her in the past, and now he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her.

“You going with them?” He asked impassively.

“I had thought to wait and see you off at the airport, but now…..” her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard.

He slowly turned his head and stared at her. She was trembling, her heart was racing and he saw her eyes fill with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” He seemed to be genuinely puzzled.

“I’m going to miss you, you stupid man.” There, she’d said it – to hell with what he thought.

He blinked and said the first thing that came into his head. “Not as much as I’ll miss you.”

Hilda suddenly felt light headed. He was going to miss her! “I’ll miss you more.” She said weakly.

“Won’t.” he said with a glimmer of a smile.

“Will!” she said smiling back.

“Won’t!”

Hilda couldn’t reply, she was laughing too much.

“Hey, what’s the joke?” Neither of them had noticed Buffy enter the room.

“You had to be here.” Spike stood and enveloped his slayer in his arms. “Mmmm, where have you been?”

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

Later in the morning, the professor informed them that he had had an email from the American university agreeing to pay for his “assistant” to accompany him. Buffy hugged her vampire,

“We’re going home Spike.”

Home. In that moment he loved her more than ever, a thing he thought was impossible.

“Anywhere with you love, is home.” He whispered

“We’ll have to decide on a disguise then,” Giles said, “we can’t take the chance that the Council have given up looking for you.”

Spike looked at the Watcher and professor in apprehension. “Disguise? What disguise.”

Giles gestured towards Spike’s head, “Well, the hair for instance, it looks very -distinctive.”

After the inevitable argument, Spike finally submitted to Buffy dyeing it. She’d talked to Giles about it whilst they were out and they’d bought some light brown dye. When she towelled it dry, she stood back horrified. Spike took one look at her and said “Bloody hell woman! What’ve you done?”

“It’s only a semi-permanent colour – it’ll wash out. Eventually.” Her voice quavered.

Spike drew out a tiny digital camera from his pocket and handed it to her wordlessly. Trying to change the subject, she said, “Stealing again? Oh Spike, I thought you’d stopped that.”

“Don’t think the Scribe’s in any position to miss it Slayer, just take the photograph and stop stalling.”

He looked at his image on the camera display screen in wordless horror. Running his hands through his hair, he sprang up and began to pace. “Green! You’ve given me sodding green hair!”

“It’s only slightly green Spike. It’ll fade in time – well maybe a few weeks.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m so sorry.”

He glanced at her and realised how distressed she was. “S’okay luv, don’t fret.” He put his arms round her, “It’ll just take a bit of getting used to.” He thought back to the seventies and remembered having multi-coloured hair at the time. “Hey, I’m used to it already.”

“Good lord!” Giles had entered the room unseen. “You’ll stand out even more with your hair like that – what were you thinking!”

Another bitter exchange of words took place, with Buffy trying to referee between them. “It would be better if it all came off.” Giles retorted at last.

To everyone’s astonishment, Spike said casually, “Okay, do it.” He’d been watching Buffy’s growing unhappiness. Anything was better than that.

He insisted that she do the deed herself and sat patiently while she fussed around him. At last, she said, “It’s done.” He wordlessly handed her the camera and she took a snap.

Running his hands over his crown, feeling the short bristles under his fingers, Spike steeled himself to look at the camera screen. He stared at it, “Luv, you’ve managed the impossible – made me look even sexier.” He said curling his tongue behind his teeth.

Laughing with relief, Buffy threw her arms round him. He was right, it did suit him and it had the advantage of making him look very different. She was interested to see that his real hair colour was somewhat like her own real colour.

“All he needs now is a nice tweed suit to complete the disguise.” Giles said complacently.

“Don’t push it Watcher!” Spike growled.

“All right Spike, just don’t wear your trademark black.”


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




TBC

Thanks CordyKitten – love your comments!

________________________________________________


The coven witches had finally departed, taking their disgraced colleagues with them. They agreed to wait for Hilda’s return before they made any decisions about Alice and Jane.

“What will happen to them?” Willow asked

“We’ll have to have a conference and perhaps invite some witches from another coven, but I think the only thing we can do is to strip them of their powers.”

Willow shuddered, “That’s - that’s not of the good.” She turned to Tara and they shared a horrified look.

“I know, but what else can we do?” Hilda said sadly. “They misused their power and nearly killed everyone; we can’t possibly take the risk that they won’t do it again, given the chance.”

“Oh, I totally agree, I do. But just the thought of being without any magic at all – it’s just the worst thing I could think of.” Willow whispered, feeling a little nauseous.

“Well, l-let that b-be a lesson to all of us.” Tara spoke firmly. Willow stared at her, wide-eyed. “As Hilda says, all m-magic has consequences and it would be so easy just to let it take over.”

Willow was saved from having to reply, when Spike and Buffy came into the room, and all conversation stopped.

“Spike!” “Your hair!” Hilda gasped. “It’s gone!”

“Yeah. Good job I’m devastatingly handsome enough to carry it off, innit?”

The others seemed to have lost the capability of speech, so he smirked at them and sauntered off after his slayer. He saw her sitting in an easy chair, staring sightlessly out of a window.

“Buffy?”

When she made no move, the vampire spoke again, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, uh, nothing – just thinking is all. You know being thinky girl.” She was avoiding his gaze and this troubled him.

“Come on pet, you can tell ol’ Spike.” He knelt between her knees and cupped her cheek in his left hand. She sighed and leaned into his touch.

“Its just that this vacation..” she was interrupted by his snort of derision. “Yeah, I know – I’m not going to forget it in a hurry! But in a crazy way, I’m going to miss this.” She gestured vaguely around the room. “I haven’t had time to sit and think about it before and now, well, I’m getting kinda scared that when we get back it’ll all have changed – or worse, still be the same.”

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes.

“What does that mean?” Spike felt a stab of fear. Was she regretting their bond? Had it not affected her? It was, after all, intended for two vampires, not a vamp and a human. Was this her way of saying that she didn’t want to be his mate when they got back to the States?

Buffy, when she saw his confused and fearful expression, thought back over what she’d said. “Oh Spike, I don’t know what I mean.” She took a deep breath. “I was just thinking that all the old problems will still be there, you know vamps, demons and mad goddesses, and maybe it’ll feel like I’ve never been away.”

His face cleared, “Buffy, you’re not on your own now. I’ll always be here to watch your back – come what may.”

She smiled. “Everything’s so simple for you, I envy that.”

“No pet, it is simple – you make it too sodding complicated.” He grinned to take the sting out of the words. “Anyway, it’s no use worrying about something that might never happen. There’ll be plenty of time to do that, when it does.” He hauled her to her feet and kissed her tenderly.

He was right, it’d be good to have someone always there to share trouble and triumph with. Comforted, she kissed him back enthusiastically.


_____________________________________________


Finally, everything was packed and they were all ready to leave. Spike had been persuaded to wear the outfit that Buffy had bought for him. The obligatory photograph was taken and he was privately pleased with the way he looked. The navy shirt and jeans brought out the colour of his eyes perfectly, but, for forms sake, he had to make a fuss, muttering about sodding nancy boys and the like.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy thrust her suitcases into his hands and marched out.

“Sodding hell, woman! What’ve you got in here? You been collecting lead weights?” Grinning, he hefted the bags and followed her out.

It was agreed that Buffy and Spike should travel separately in case the Council were still watching for them. They embraced and kissed quickly then the Slayer got into Giles’ car with Willow and Tara. “See you at the airport.” Buffy had time to wave and then she was gone.

Spike sighed. He felt a physical wrench as the distance between them lengthened and wondered whether Buffy felt it too. He turned and walked over to the car where Hilda and the professor waited for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Spike fiddled with the car radio until he found a station he liked, and then sat tapping his fingers restlessly. Hilda glanced over at him, “It’s not for long.” She said consolingly.

He looked back at her and managed a grin, “It gets harder to be apart, the longer we’re together. Must be something to do with the bond, dunno much about it – but I guess I will, as time goes by.” He was silent for a while and then he turned to the witch, “You still gonna make a new ward for me?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. I’ll have to do some research to see if there are any protection spells specially for vampires. I’ve never heard of such a thing, but then I’ve never had occasion to want one.” She grinned over at him, “I’ve only ever had the need for protection against vampires.”

He smiled at her softly, “You’re a good friend Hilda, I’m really glad I met you.”

Hilda was grateful for the darkness, as a flush stained her cheeks and her eyes filled with tears. She swallowed hard and said “I’m glad I met you too.”

Only too soon for the witch, they entered the airport car park.

“We’ll park in the next bay and wait for them to leave. You can meet up with Buffy once you’re through customs.”

Hilda switched off the engine and they watched Buffy, the witches and the Watcher unload the hire car. Spike saw a movement and suddenly the group were surrounded by dark suited men.

“Bloody hell.” Spike struggled with the door trying to get to his Slayer.

“Wait!” Hilda hissed at him, “Let’s see what happens first.”

Reluctantly Spike subsided and watched anxiously.


___________________________________________________




TBC

Kimmie, Angie, Kim and Cordykitten – thanks for your comments, I appreciate them all.

________________________________________________


The coven witches had finally departed, taking their disgraced colleagues with them. They agreed to wait for Hilda’s return before they made any decisions about Alice and Jane.

“What will happen to them?” Willow asked

“We’ll have to have a conference and perhaps invite some witches from another coven, but I think the only thing we can do is to strip them of their powers.”

Willow shuddered, “That’s - that’s not of the good.” She turned to Tara and they shared a horrified look.

“I know, but what else can we do?” Hilda said sadly. “They misused their power and nearly killed everyone; we can’t possibly take the risk that they won’t do it again, given the chance.”

“Oh, I totally agree, I do. But just the thought of being without any magic at all – it’s just the worst thing I could think of.” Willow whispered, feeling a little nauseous.

“Well, l-let that b-be a lesson to all of us.” Tara spoke firmly. Willow stared at her, wide-eyed. “As Hilda says, all m-magic has consequences and it would be so easy just to let it take over.”

Willow was saved from having to reply, when Spike and Buffy came into the room, and all conversation stopped.

“Spike!” “Your hair!” Hilda gasped. “It’s gone!”

“Yeah. Good job I’m devastatingly handsome enough to carry it off, innit?”

The others seemed to have lost the capability of speech, so he smirked at them and sauntered off after his slayer. He saw her sitting in an easy chair, staring sightlessly out of a window.

“Buffy?”

When she made no move, the vampire spoke again, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, uh, nothing – just thinking is all. You know being thinky girl.” She was avoiding his gaze and this troubled him.

“Come on pet, you can tell ol’ Spike.” He knelt between her knees and cupped her cheek in his left hand. She sighed and leaned into his touch.

“Its just that this vacation..” she was interrupted by his snort of derision. “Yeah, I know – I’m not going to forget it in a hurry! But in a crazy way, I’m going to miss this.” She gestured vaguely around the room. “I haven’t had time to sit and think about it before and now, well, I’m getting kinda scared that when we get back it’ll all have changed – or worse, still be the same.”

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes.

“What does that mean?” Spike felt a stab of fear. Was she regretting their bond? Had it not affected her? It was, after all, intended for two vampires, not a vamp and a human. Was this her way of saying that she didn’t want to be his mate when they got back to the States?

Buffy, when she saw his confused and fearful expression, thought back over what she’d said. “Oh Spike, I don’t know what I mean.” She took a deep breath. “I was just thinking that all the old problems will still be there, you know vamps, demons and mad goddesses, and maybe it’ll feel like I’ve never been away.”

His face cleared, “Buffy, you’re not on your own now. I’ll always be here to watch your back – come what may.”

She smiled. “Everything’s so simple for you, I envy that.”

“No pet, it is simple – you make it too sodding complicated.” He grinned to take the sting out of the words. “Anyway, it’s no use worrying about something that might never happen. There’ll be plenty of time to do that, when it does.” He hauled her to her feet and kissed her tenderly.

He was right, it’d be good to have someone always there to share trouble and triumph with. Comforted, she kissed him back enthusiastically.


_____________________________________________


Finally, everything was packed and they were all ready to leave. Spike had been persuaded to wear the outfit that Buffy had bought for him. The obligatory photograph was taken and he was privately pleased with the way he looked. The navy shirt and jeans brought out the colour of his eyes perfectly, but, for forms sake, he had to make a fuss, muttering about sodding nancy boys and the like.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy thrust her suitcases into his hands and marched out.

“Sodding hell, woman! What’ve you got in here? You been collecting lead weights?” Grinning, he hefted the bags and followed her out.

It was agreed that Buffy and Spike should travel separately in case the Council were still watching for them. They embraced and kissed quickly then the Slayer got into Giles’ car with Willow and Tara. “See you at the airport.” Buffy had time to wave and then she was gone.

Spike sighed. He felt a physical wrench as the distance between them lengthened and wondered whether Buffy felt it too. He turned and walked over to the car where Hilda and the professor waited for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Spike fiddled with the car radio until he found a station he liked, and then sat tapping his fingers restlessly. Hilda glanced over at him, “It’s not for long.” She said consolingly.

He looked back at her and managed a grin, “It gets harder to be apart, the longer we’re together. Must be something to do with the bond, dunno much about it – but I guess I will, as time goes by.” He was silent for a while and then he turned to the witch, “You still gonna make a new ward for me?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. I’ll have to do some research to see if there are any protection spells specially for vampires. I’ve never heard of such a thing, but then I’ve never had occasion to want one.” She grinned over at him, “I’ve only ever had the need for protection against vampires.”

He smiled at her softly, “You’re a good friend Hilda, I’m really glad I met you.”

Hilda was grateful for the darkness, as a flush stained her cheeks and her eyes filled with tears. She swallowed hard and said “I’m glad I met you too.”

Only too soon for the witch, they entered the airport car park.

“We’ll park in the next bay and wait for them to leave. You can meet up with Buffy once you’re through customs.”

Hilda switched off the engine and they watched Buffy, the witches and the Watcher unload the hire car. Spike saw a movement and suddenly the group were surrounded by dark suited men.

“Bloody hell.” Spike struggled with the door trying to get to his Slayer.

“Wait!” Hilda hissed at him, “Let’s see what happens first.”

Reluctantly Spike subsided and watched anxiously.


___________________________________________________




TBC

Kimmie, Angie, Kim and Cordykitten – thanks for your comments, I appreciate them all.

Ralph Williamson was a bitter, driven man. He had been with the Council of Watchers since leaving college and had done everything that was asked of him. He went through training programme after training programme, but was never promoted into the job that he yearned for. He couldn’t understand it; he knew all the theory and had even trained would-be Slayers. He had seen most of his peers become watchers, but he had never been chosen.

He had managed to get a glimpse of his own file once, and had seen “lacks imagination” scrawled at the bottom of the only page he could read before he heard his manager coming back into the room. How he had wrapped up his conversation and left, he never quite recalled. Since that time he had been longing for a way to impress his superiors, get back into their good books in some way.

Then, a few days ago, Toby, one of his few friends, had called, telling him that Rupert Giles, his Slayer and a vampire had visited Toby’s house. Toby told him that he’d overheard a conversation about the vampire having a “chip” in his brain that stopped him hurting humans. Ralph was ecstatic, this had to be William the Bloody – the vampire that the Council were anxious to “interview”. The icing on the cake was that Giles, who he had been jealous of since college, was helping a vampire. How the mighty are fallen.

The would-be watcher gathered together a security team and sped to Toby’s house. His friend had neglected to tell him that he’d also betrayed the Watcher to a mad millionaire and by the time he had got to Toby’s home, the trio had fled, leaving the said millionaire and his thugs unconscious. They had interviewed the neighbours and the housekeeper, but learned nothing useful. Undeterred, he realised that at some time Giles would be leaving the country, so he went to work finding out which airport he would be using.

He might be lacking imagination, but he was thorough. He used all the favours owed to him and, where necessary, used a little blackmail until he had the information he needed. Then it would only be a matter of time until the vampire was in his hands.

He knew that they would be arriving in a hire car, so the logical place to intercept them would be the rental car park, which was away from the terminal buildings and relatively quiet. It was obvious that they would be arriving after dark, which would make a convenient cover for his men. He sat back and waited.

At last, he saw what he had been waiting for. He watched Giles drive his car past the place he and his men were waiting and sniggered to himself. He was going to enjoy the look on the Watcher’s face.

His heart sank, when he saw three young women getting out of Giles’ car. No sign of the vampire. He signalled his men to surround them and walked forward into the light.

“Rupert!” .

“What’s the meaning of this, Williamson?” Giles said stiffly, after his first look of disbelief. “I don’t remember requesting a welcoming committee.”

Williamson smiled and said in a smooth voice, “Where’s the vampire?”

“Vampire? What the hell are you talking about man? We are on our way back to the US and we’ll miss our flight if we stand around gossiping with you.” Giles picked up his case and started to move towards the exit. Williamson blocked his way with an up-stretched hand and his men moved in threateningly.

“Oh, Rupert, come along, please. You know which vampire we’re talking about. He goes by the name of William the Bloody, or, if you prefer, Spike. I know that you have been travelling with him, don’t pretend that you haven’t.”

Giles said thoughtfully, “Are you going to keep us here by force? I find it difficult to believe that even Travers would sanction such an action.” He caught Williamson’s expression and continued contemptuously. “He knows nothing about this, does he? You’ve planned it yourself. Come on ladies, we have a plane to catch.” He started to move away.

Suddenly, Williamson could feel the situation getting out of hand. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a gun, thrusting it into the face of the startled Watcher. Buffy, who was standing behind Giles, felt her stomach clench with fear. Not again! Guns were the one weapon that really scared her and this one was pointed at her dearest friends. She steeled herself to act, though quite what she’d do, she had no idea.

“Yoohoo!” a voice interrupted.

They all swung round to see a middle-aged couple waving at them. “Yoohoo!” called the woman again. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting, but I wonder if you can help us.”

Before the furious Williamson could answer, Giles said quickly, “Yes of course. What’s the problem?”

“Well, me and my hubby here are on our way to America.” She said proudly. “We’ve never been out of the country before, but our Gemma – that’s our daughter – has paid our fare, so we can go out and have a holiday. Isn’t that marvellous? We’re so looking forward to it. But the problem is we followed the signs to the car park all right, but we can’t seem to find our way to the actual terminal.”

While she had been speaking, the two witches and Buffy had exchanged a glance and edged round so that they were behind the couple. Giles smiled brightly at them, “don’t worry, we’ll show you the way.” He walked past them gesturing towards a bus stop.

Before Williamson or his men could respond, the three young women and Giles were walking away with the middle-aged gent. The woman stayed where she was and exclaimed, “Oh, how helpful!” She looked over her shoulder and said to the retreating group, “Don’t wait for me – I’ll catch the next one.”

Several things occurred to Williamson simultaneously: the couple only had one suitcase between them, the woman wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and why would she stay behind anyway. He smelled a rat. With a snarl, he began to raise the gun, at the same time the woman raised her hand and he found himself surrounded by an eerie green light and was held motionless. He watched in impotent rage as the bus arrived and the group began to alight.

______________________________________________


Spike, waiting in the shadows, had watched events with horror. In the brief seconds that they’d had for planning, Hilda had told him to keep away, that she’d take care of it. He was a being of action, his instinct told him to protect his mate and he’d been on the point of attacking the threatening men, when he’d seen the witch cast a mojo on them. Then Buffy was in his arms and he breathed in her wonderful scent and felt as though he would never let her go again.

“Come on! There’s no time for that, you pillock! Help us on with the bags.”

Buffy fought down a bubble of hysterical laughter, as she saw her indignant Watcher’s face. The shaking professor and the two ashen-faced witches were struggling to get their suitcases into the bus and Spike reluctantly released his Slayer and went to help them.

“She gonna be okay?” Spike asked worriedly returning to stand in the bus’s doorway.

To his surprise, it was Mackness who answered, “You know what she said – if you interfered, she’d turn your fangs green.”

Spike grinned in spite of his anxiety. “Yeah, she was pretty insistent wasn’t she.”

The professor continued, “She also said that none of us was to interfere, since she’s the only one not catching a plane, it would be best if she dealt with them alone.”

“Come on ladies and gents, are you on or off? I’ve got a timetable to keep.” The driver called over.

They all exchanged a glance. “The sooner we go, the less time she’ll need to keep the spell going.” Giles said reasonably. Then, looking at his watch, “We only have half an hour before our flight.”

They stepped back, the doors closed and the bus accelerated towards the next stop, Spike watching the witch for as long as he could.


___________________________________________


As he watched the bus drive away, the rage and hatred boiled in Williamson’s mind. It gave him inhuman strength; he felt the gun in his hand and concentrated hard. His finger began to tighten on the trigger. Since the spell was meant for humans, it had no effect upon the bullet as it sped on its way.

Hilda felt as though someone had punched her in the chest and had just enough time to think, “Oh hell! I didn’t get to say goodbye,” before she crumpled to the ground and the spell was broken.

Williamson recovered first and yelled at his men to get the car and chase after the fast disappearing bus. He was astonished when two of them tackled him to the ground.

“What are you doing?” He snarled as he struggled with them. “Let me go you idiots!”

They had been uneasy when he had brandished the gun, but when he had actually shot an innocent bystander, it was more than they could take. One of the men took out his phone and dialled the Council for help to contain him.

_______________________________________________


When the Sunnydale group arrived at the terminal, they’d had to run to be able to check in before the gate was shut. Spike, the only one with no luggage, kept looking back, hoping to see his friend.

“Never mind, she’s probably gonna hold them until she knows we are in the air. We can call her when we get home.” Buffy smiled at him reassuringly.

Home. He brought his full attention to her. Home. The word sounded like the most lyrical poetry, it brought visions of Buffy, Joyce, the Bit and him sitting round the table eating; sitting watching TV together……

“Spike!”

He was aware that she’d called his name more than once. He smiled at her sheepishly. “Sorry luv, I was in a world of my own there.”

She linked hands with him. He took one last look around the check-in area and then willingly allowed himself to be pulled along through to the departures lounge and towards his new life.


_________________________________________________



A/N

That’s where I’m going to leave it. I had always intended this to be a “British Adventure”. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I (mostly) enjoyed writing it. I must thank all of you who have taken the time and trouble to send me feedback – it’s the only thing that kept me going – especially those of you who wrote more than once. I have to mention, Rosie, PamS, Kimmie, Cordykitten, Kim , to name just a few.

I’m thinking of posting another story on this site – watch this space!

Come Dance with me - epilogue


The series of disasters started as soon as they arrived in Sunnydale. Dreading Joyce and Dawn’s reaction to the unbreakable bond between Buffy and himself, Spike braced for the worst.

It hadn’t gone as badly as he had imagined but then, as soon as they’d got to Revello Drive, Joyce collapsed and was rushed to hospital. They were told that they couldn’t have saved her – even if they’d got to the hospital sooner. Buffy was devastated. Spike tried his best to comfort her, but he could feel her building a barrier between them and he couldn’t seem to find a way through. Despair flooded through him, it looked as though he was right – she didn’t feel the bond in the same way as him. Uncomfortable with Dawn’s grief, he wasn’t used to dealing with human emotions – well except fear and revulsion – he felt like a spare part, hanging around and getting in the way.

Then, a day or so later, Glory turned up and threatened Dawn – it had only been the presence of the witches that saved her. Spike seemed to be the only one who saw the young doctor turn into the hell-god, so he took it upon himself to find the git and kill him. And somehow, that was wrong too. He had killed a human. Even when the enchantment that had hidden the fact that the god shared the same body as Ben had dissipated, Buffy seemed to be further away – blocking him out.

He was desperate, how the hell was it going to go back to the way it was? She was going through the motions, but she seemed frozen somehow. He became morose and withdrawn, sitting outside on the porch for hours, chain-smoking. The rows with Xander didn’t help either, with Buffy shouting at both of them. Taking over Buffy’s patrols were the only thing that kept Spike going – taking his frustrations and rage out on the demons of Sunnydale.

Just as he thought that things couldn’t get any worse, the phone call came.

Buffy answered it and went so still that Spike knew it was more bad news. “What is it love?” He asked quietly.

“It…it’s Hilda.” She said, looking horrified.

“What about Hilda? What’s happened?” He looked back with terror-filled eyes.

“She, she’s been shot.”

He didn’t hear much after that. Just snatches of her side of the conversation…

“…..two weeks ago….”

“….in a coma……”

It was if he was in a hermetically sealed bubble, everything came through slightly distorted and muffled. He rubbed at his chest absently – the searing pain just another distraction. Then suddenly everything became crystal clear.
He leaped to his feet and ran to the front door. Just as he was about to open it, he was tackled from behind and Buffy was shouting at him.

“Spike! The sun’s up – you’ll burn – don’t be stupid”

“What? Get out of my way – you can’t stop me! I have to go to her.” Then Buffy’s small but powerful fist made contact with his chin and he knew no more.

…………………………………….

He woke with a groan and wondered which big bad had attacked him. Then suddenly, he remembered. He swung his legs down to the floor, vaguely aware that he was in Buffy’s bed, and started to get up.

Buffy, who had been anxiously waiting for him to wake up, sat forward in her chair and gently held him in place, explaining as best she could what had happened. “One of the witches found Giles’ business card in Hilda’s purse and rang him. She was shot in the chest by one of the bastards from the Watchers Council.”

“Was! Is she….?”

“No she’s still alive, but in a coma. Has been since she was taken to hospital.”

“I’ve got to go to her Buffy, she’s my friend – and I can count them on the fingers of….one finger.” His face crumpled and she saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

Putting out her hand she ran her fingers tenderly across his face and then some barrier around her heart that she hadn’t even been aware of, broke and she gasped clutching her chest, “Spike what’s going on?”

Then suddenly Buffy knew just what had happened, “I’m feeling what you’re feeling aren’t I? Oh my god! It hurts!” She flung her arms round him and they hugged one another, rocking backwards and forwards in their distress.

Now there was nothing stopping Spike’s emotions flooding through her, Buffy understood his need to go to his friend.

“We’ll both go.” She said, leaning her forehead against his, “I’m so sorry Spike, I’ve cut you off haven’t I?”

“No worries pet, you’ve had a lot to deal with, it’s OK.”

Then Buffy felt the full force of his love for her, she gasped and realised what she’d been missing out on. “Oh Spike, I love you so much.”

The look on his face was worth a thousand words. “Bloody hell.” He said weakly.

They began to hurriedly make plans to return to England. There was such a lot to organise, but they were determined to get back as soon as possible.

Buffy had just put the phone down after booking their flights, when it rang again.

“Would you answer it Spike, I’ve got to finish packing.”

He lifted the receiver.

“Spike?” The voice sounded familiar.

“Yeah, who’s that?” Then realisation crashed over him and he was suddenly sitting on the floor, not knowing how he’d got there. “Hilda? That you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded weak. “I thought you ought to be the first to know, I just woke up.”

“Soddin’ lazy witch.” He laughed, tears streaming unnoticed down his face. “Bloody hell, you scared me to death – again.”

They spoke for a little while, Hilda giving him her telephone number and he promised to ring her the next day.

He leaned back against the wall, relief flooding through him. Perhaps it was a sign that everything would be ok from now on.

Who knows?


__________________________

A/N

OK, I listened to Kimmie & Cordykitten, who wanted an epilogue to this. I hope you think it rounds things off. Thanks again for all your feedback.

Marianne