When I visited Rome for the sole purpose of seeing her, we never met. Whether it was circumstances going against us, or me being too bloody cowardly to tell her I’d come back, I don’t know. Maybe both. I didn’t stay very long anyway. Neither did Angel, for that matter, which I found rather amusing.

“Waiting for her” and all that rubbish. A man, a vampire's got to have something to feed on, or he can’t stay in one place, Angel knows that as well as I do.

Don’t know where he is now. Not like that makes much of a difference for me, but after hanging out for centuries around the same bloke, you sort of get used to knowing his whereabouts.

After leaving Rome, the only thing I wanted was to forget once and for all about the whole bloody thing. And if such a feat was possible, it had to be done far away – from her, from anyone else, from all of this. I didn’t want to go back to California. There was a gaping hole back there, in the ground and in my head, and one breath of air in California would remind me of it when I didn’t particularly need any reminding.

I considered going to Japan first – smashing night-life over there, ancient demons making the ground shake, metamorphosing animals that disguise themselves into Buddhist monks to kill hitchhikers… Entertaining stuff. But while I wanted to put as many kilometers between myself and the rest, I didn’t want to land where I didn’t know anyone, where I had no connections, where I knew nothing about the rules of the game. I suppose it’s the same anywhere for vampires, but perhaps not for vampires with a soul.

I like being in control. Taking the mickey out of anyone who messes with me comforts me in that idea, but sometimes it just isn’t enough.

I did have some connections in Paris, though, so that’s where I landed. Sufficiently far, sufficiently void of any person or demon related even from afar to those I was trying to avoid.

Oh, I’ll admit I had a blast. Europe’s a great favorite with vampires because despite where we were sired, for some moronic emotional reason, we feel that’s where we forged our fame. Praha and Budapest are stock full of vampires of high standing that are hell-bent on upholding our reputation and think biting is serious business. Stiff-collared nits, the lot of them.

But there were no such characters in Paris. The place is as charming and folkloric as a movie set, old but not in an overbearing kind of way, and Gallic vampires are refreshingly happy-go-lucky. They only care about three things : good eating, good drinking and gorgeous women, all of which they manage to combine rather efficiently.

Alduin was a demon whom I’d pulled out of a messy situation at one point – a long story, that one, involving an unpaid plumbing bill and a tremendous flood of the Seine river in 1910 - so the fellow owed me a favor. I stayed at his place, a flat in the Marais neighborhood, next door to the former house of that damn Flamel warlock and a gay bar.

Though I’m not fond of the Froggies, I’d be lying if I said the wining, dining and fighting weren’t splendid – rare steak and underworld creatures with a short temper abound. The ladies, well, I have to admit I got a sample of that as well, and second helpings were had with great relish. But no matter how delicious, the taste of wine and women can get a bit cloying after a while, especially when one wakes up every evening with the same feeling of emptiness he fell asleep with in the morning.

Sometimes I feel almost as unreal as when I didn’t have a proper body to call my own, when I could dissolve in a blow of wind. But I do have a body, and in Paris I tried with all my might to sense it again, to fill it with drink and food and sex, something to weigh me down and give my flesh some consistency.

It didn’t work. It was gone, that fire in my veins, that real, wonderful heat I felt when I was holding the line so she could live, like sunshine coming from inside to burn me. And when I was with her, of course. When we together and she wanted me – only me.

It’s still too painful, the thought of her, the memory of her voice, her skin, the way her tiny waist fitted into my arms. I try to bury it, but it keeps coming back every time I open my eyes.

Funny thing that now that I’ve got my soul back, I feel as dank and depressed as a ruddy fish out of water.

When I decided to leave, Alduin tried to convince me to stay. It’s the same old technique of the ugly bloke trying to use the handsome one to pick up birds, and poor Alduin’s three eyes and lack of nose really don’t help him in that department. But there was nothing doing – the Old World and its quaint charms weren’t for me.

I had the vague idea of going back to New York. There would still be a entire continent between me and my memories, and an ocean between me and her. Perhaps it would be like meeting up with an old flame, without the same potential for disaster.



***************************************


I don’t know why we have to leave Rome. I’m not usually one to argue my big sister’s decisions – well, not often at least – but this one has me reeling.

Everything is going our way, for once. The Watcher’s Council was as hard to budge as a oil tanker stuck on sand, but they finally got around to training a bigger amount of Watchers to look over new Slayers. Giles is in charge of that, but then who else could’ve done it?

So Giles is happy. Willow and Kennedy are happy and in love, living together and getting into a nice, comfortable routine, you know, as far as routine can go when a super-powerful witch and a Slayer are involved. Andrew’s happy that his whack science skills were finally useful to something other than creating chaos. And I think Xander’s starting to get used to the fact that most Slayers he’s training have a mad crush on him – so I guess it’s safe to say he’s reasonably happy too.

Why can’t we stay, and leave everything just as it is? No, that would be just too easy.

Seriously, we’ve been back in business, and kicking major demon ass. Okay, so it’s not like they’re very organized or anything – for more than a year after the First was defeated, it looked like they were just scrambling around, trying to make sense out of the situation and cause as much trouble as possible in the process. And yeah, they’re starting to regroup again from what I’ve heard, but we clearly have the upper hand.

And I like it in Rome, too. I can just hang around at Willow and Kennedy’s place, or work out with Xander, or go and talk to Giles when he’s in his office, and that’s cool. Let me tell you, a couple of his students are real studs, and, well…

Okay, so there was this one guy, David. He was only a few years older than me, one of the youngest Watchers-in-the-making. We got together a couple of times, but he told me he couldn’t have a real relationship, because he was busy with his studies… I don’t know, maybe if we stayed in Rome, it could’ve worked out. Not that Buffy or anyone else knows about it, of course, but it just makes me even more pissed off.

She told me that there was some work to do in California, and that she wanted me to think of my own future in a place where I could start with a clean slate. I think she’s just scared that hanging around potentials might give some ideas, or that Willow will start teaching me some magic stuff.

But it’s clear that I’m neither a Slayer nor a witch. I’m eighteen now and if I were one or the other, I would’ve had a “calling”, as they say. But I never did – I’m still just plain old Dawn, the human ball of cosmic energy.

I don’t know what future I could possibly have. I didn’t even finish high school, so college is obviously out of the question. I’ll probably end up working at a fast-food joint like Buffy did, because I don’t see what else there is for me to do.

Before there were any talks of leaving, I didn’t have to think about at all… but maybe my sister’s right. I’m not really of any use here either.

I tried to get Andrew to teach me about computers, chemistry and all the other stuff his years of geekdom taught him. He hasn’t got much going for him either, but he manages to uphold some sort of skill. I soon realized, though, that without years of geekdom behind me, I didn’t have a chance at accumulating the erratic and miscellaneous knowledge that constituted Andrew’s major asset, and after a couple of lessons on Star Trek and microchips, I gave up.

So here we are, ready to leave again. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with myself once I’m over there. And I have no idea what Buffy’s going to do either.

Surely she can’t be leaving all her friends and all the potentials behind for no good reason. I mean, this is Buffy we’re talking about. The Slayer. The Chosen One.

She keeps saying there are lots of “chosen ones” now, but that doesn’t cut it with me. I’ve seen them all, practicing, learning, fighting, and they’re good. They’re very good. They have the guts, the fire, the spark.

But they don’t have the dark, and Buffy does.

Buffy felt drained, but she couldn’t sleep. It was too hot, too – incomplete. Something was missing, but she didn’t know what.

As she tossed and turned in her bed, the messy sheets wrapped themselves around her legs and in the end she tossed them off in exasperation.

Sleep… just sleep, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut.

A cool, slim hand touched her shoulder.

Buffy sat up brutally and for a moment she couldn’t see anything around her, only darkness.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

“It’s me, love.”

Spike.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him emerge from the shadows. “Spike… You came back.”

He sat on the bed and smiled at her. “Of course I did. You know I would never leave you alone – never.”

He let his fingers glide idly over her ankle, and the memory of all the nights they had spent in each other’s arms came back to her, surfacing easily and spreading out in a delicious warmth all over her. The merest touch from him reminded her of how well he knew her body – had known it from the very first time.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

He moved his hand up her leg, not answering, and didn’t stop until it was on her waist, kneading her soft skin.

“Don’t talk about that,” he murmured. “I’m alive now that I’m with you.”

“Spike… I couldn’t bear it if you left again,” she said, leaning forward so their foreheads touched.

He pulled her close to him, both arms encircling her wait tightly. She had forgotten how good it was to be pressed against him, and feeling like she didn’t want to escape.

No. She hadn’t forgotten, she had only tried to. It was so easy to let his presence engulf her like it had before.

“I’m have no intention of going anywhere, love,” he said. “Not until you tell me - ”

He paused, his lips lingering over hers, and she arched into him, desperate to feel them, and to finally weld back together what had been broken in two.

“- when you told me you loved me, did you mean it?”

Buffy awoke with a start.

Her room was silent and empty. Outside, the sun was just starting to rise.


***************************************


Buffy dressed quietly. Dawn wasn’t up yet, it was only six o’clock – she’d leave a note for her, telling her that she’d be back for breakfast.

As she slipped out of her apartment and into the waking streets of Rome, she tried to shake away the remnants of her dream, but they lingered in her mind. Even worse, a part of her mind didn’t want them to go away – it had been so good to feel Spike next to her…

No, not good, she told herself sternly. Only hurtful and unproductive.

He was gone forever now. He had died a noble death and saved them all. He was part of the past, a hero to be celebrated and admired, a glossy, ghostly figure that they raised their glasses to. It had been almost two years.

But somehow, Buffy realized uncomfortably, this just didn’t click in her mind, though the cold, hard fact were in front of her. Spike had always come back – always. He’d died once and outlived himself by decades. Surely those moody lips, that chiselled face, all that wit and anger and seduction couldn’t simply disappear from the face of the earth…

You’re only making this harder on yourself, she thought as she passed next to the Coliseum, its crest gilded with the crisp sunlight of morning. When will you finally move on?

But then there were these dreams… It wasn’t the first time she had woken up, her skin still tingling from Spike’s imaginary touch, her senses on edge, her body longing for him. She knew it was only a trick of her mind, but they felt so very real…

Listen to yourself, you’re raving, she tried to reason, shaking her head. Dreams are just that – dreams.

Buffy was determined to forget all about it. Surely, it would come over time. Besides, she had important things to do, responsibilities to hold. As head trainer of the Slayers, her days were always a blur of activity.

However, that was about to change. She dreaded to going back to California, yet a part of her was also thrilled. Rome was a fine city, and training the Slayers was exciting and terrific, but that wasn’t where she belonged.

Buffy had often thought being alone was the Slayer’s greatest curse. The new Slayers would never know that – they trained together, fought together, squabbled over trifles and cried on each other’s shoulders at night. But she didn’t belong to that generation – sometimes, she preferred acting on her own, and even missed the nights where she would walk alone, spying the shadows, ready for anything that came her way.

It’ll be better for Dawn,she thought, though her little sister seemed anything but pleased that they were leaving. She needs to make friends her age, hang around normal people.

Ten minutes later, Buffy arrived at the Watchers’ Institute. All the future Watchers and their professors lived there, including Giles – it was a veritable temple of intellectual testosterone.

She smiled at the porter and stopped in front of the elegant iron-wrought entrance for a retinal scan. The door clicked open.

Giles’s office was on the ground floor, and she found him sipping his tea at his desk, reading the morning paper, as he usually was when she came to see him before his classes. The rest of the building was entirely quiet – the students weren’t up yet.

“Oh, hello, Buffy,” he said with a smile when he saw her. “I wasn’t expecting your visit so early this morning.”

“I woke up before the alarm, and couldn’t get back to sleep,” she explained, closing the door behind her. “So I decided to pop in – sorry I didn’t bring any doughnuts or other goodies.”

“You know I’m not a fan of anything with so much grease oozing out of it. So, how are things going with the Slayers?”

“Oh, they’re fine,” she said. “Kennedy is a great trainer, and she works really well with Xander – she’s more than ready to take my place. We decided on the new team leaders last night.”

Giles nodded and looked at her affectionately. “I’m sure it’ll be a success. But I will miss you, Buffy – we all will.”

Buffy grinned. “Aw, Giles – you know I’ll miss you all too. But you’ll come visit – you know, if you get a few hours of vacation in a couple of years.”

Her former Watcher laughed. “Yes, and that’s being optimistic. I have good reasons to hope, however, that this is only temporary – we’ll find a way to destroy this artefact soon.”

“Giles, you told me it was dangerous,” Buffy said, frowning slightly. “And I was very flattered when you said only the best of the Slayers could guard it… but what is it, exactly?”

Giles took a sip of tea, then set his cup down and reached for a book in his drawer. “As you know, it’s called the Staff of Ammit, and it’s kept in the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum of San Jose. The archaeologists who found it thought it was some sort of ritual object meant to invoke Ammit, the demon of the underworld.” He open the book and handed it to Buffy.

She looked at the photography on the right page – it was a rough wooden stick, carved with hieroglyphs, set with circles of gold on both ends.

“Perhaps they invoked Ammit with a baton-twirling routine.”

“Oh, this has no peculiar invocation power, as Willow could tell you,” Giles said.

“Then why is it dangerous?”

“Well, you see, that crude stick they later carved and decorated with gold to honor their god – our studies revealed that it’s made of a peculiar kind of wood one only finds in Nigeria. Travelers brought it from the heart of Africa to the court of the pharaoh, claiming it had magical powers.”

“Oh God. Not angry-Willow-going-on-a-rampage type of magical powers, I hope?”

“Not exactly. We recently finished translating a papyrus, written by one of pharaoh’s scribes, who claimed he saw what the Staff could do. It only affected women, apparently, and particularly young women – direct contact with the Staff made them go into a trance, speak in unknown languages, and gave them the inhuman strength of, well – a demon.”

“Giles,” Buffy said slowly. “Are you saying that this dried-up piece of wood was actually -”

“One of the Shadow Men’s staff, yes. Full of the essence of the Old Ones they had forced into the First Slayer.”

“So why didn’t the archaeologists destroy it when they found out what it did?”

Giles was thoughtful for a moment. “Several reasons for that. First, it wasn’t very common for women to be on archaeological teams in the nineteen-twenties, or in any circle that could’ve brought one to be in direct contact with the staff. Second, it can only be destroyed by magical means. Willow is working on it, but she hasn’t found the way to do it yet – the power of the Old Ones won’t be easily undone.”

Buffy twisted her mouth, trying to process all this information. “Well, I can understand why you want it destroyed, but… you’re not asking me to guard just because it makes women act like demons, are you?”

“No, indeed,” Giles said gravely. “The scribe wrote that women broke out of the trance and eventually recovered when they were no longer in contact with the Staff. But there’s a far greater danger at stake here – so great it could destroy all that we’ve started to put in place.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“We believe that if it falls in the wrong hands, the Staff would have the power to fill the Slayer with demonic essence completely – and permanently.”

Buffy suppressed a shudder of dread, fully realizing the magnitude of the problem. “But there is no Slayer anymore – there are hundreds of them.”

“I see you understand why this has to be avoided at all costs.”

She stood up and paced the room, unable to stay in place. “Then why don’t you send a squadron of girls over there right now to guard it?”

“We have a small advantage in this situation,” Giles said. “The translation of the papyrus I told you about, as well as the results of our research, have only been revealed to a few people, including you and Willow. We’re pretty certain no demon or vampire knows about the Staff’s powers.”

Buffy nodded. “And having dozens of Slayers guard the San Jose archaeological museum would be like putting up a blinking sign that says, hey, really powerful and dangerous weapon for baddies here!”

“Exactly.” Giles tried to smile at her reassuringly. “That’s why I asked you to take this mission – I know the Staff will be under the best surveillance possible.”

Buffy smiled despite herself. Having him trust her so completely had always been an incredible boost to her confidence. “You’re damn right it will. It’ll be just like the old times – just me and my pointy stick.”

“Actually,” Giles said, a bit embarrassed, "there’s someone else who has a hand in this.”

“If you tell me I have to drag Andrew along, the answer is no.”

“It’s not Andrew, Buffy. It’s Angel.”

News travels fast in the underworld. I found out that Spike was in New-York city, of all place, shortly after he got there – not that he’s particularly good at making himself unnoticed. It was only a month or two later, however, that I actually saw him.

I’ve been one helluva busy girl lately. It never seems to stop, but adrenaline keeps me on my toes. I’m in charge of training three hundred new Slayers and dispatching them all around the United States when they’re ready. Some of them I keep as my assistants – the ones who already lead their units when they were in training, the ones who knew how to make themselves heard.

Girls come and go. They arrive here just out of puberty, the youngest of them only thirteen, confused and scared about the sudden strength they acquired and their first encounter with some keen vampires who can smell a Slayer when they see one. They’re far away from their parents, submitted to harsh training and hours of studying. Their first missions almost always go wrong – it’s a good thing the demon world is rather in a pitiful shape these days. Their team mates berate them, their elders boss them around, and I’m here to show them that there’s no place for weakness or failure in a Slayer’s life.

But when they leave, they’re ready to take on anything. They’re confident, and they’ve made friends for life. Sometimes I wish we could’ve had the same thing instead of learning everything from scratch, and all alone on top of that. Though I can honestly stay, as bleedin’ cheesy as it sounds, that it’s made me the woman I am today.

Anyway, I was on patrol the other night in Queens with two of the girls. We’d heard there were some vampires dealing a lethal drug to humans that made them as high as kites and therefor completely unaware that a nasty set of fangs was hovering above their neck.

We were making our way down an alley, keeping our shade, when we heard a heated discussion just around the corner.

“What’s the idea, you lousy freak?” a low, menacing voice growled amidst some grunts of approval.

“You’re going to pay double for the humans you just scared off, bum.”

“Stop selling your shit or I’ll be the one putting the holes in your brain – through your eye sockets.”

I grinned. I recognised that voice. Unbelievable. “Well, what do you know,” I murmured.

Agnes and Kimberly glanced at me warily. They weren’t picking up on the humour of the situation.

“Are we go?” Agnes asked under her breath.

“No, stay back and watch this one, girls,” I whispered. “This is a real pro we’re dealing with.”

The argument was getting very nasty. “Since I can’t kill you, I’ll have to settle with kicking your balls until they burst open like grapes.”

“Spare yourself the trouble - you’d be better off with a functional pair if you want to replace yours.”

Unsurprisingly, this got the brawl going. A wondrous melody of kicks, punches and bodies getting thrown against the wall or down on the asphalt followed.

“Faith,” Kimberly said, grasping my arm. “Are we just going to let him -”

I laughed. “Naw, we’re going to have to stake them eventually.”

I didn’t wait for the group to be completely knocked out before letting Kim and Agnes do their job – what good would it be for them to learn on unconscious vampires? It was a easy as pie, though – didn’t take them two minutes to reduce the vampires to dust. They were so enthusiastic they almost staked Spike along the way.

“Hold it!” I cried as Agnes unsuccessfully tried to terminate him. “Stop! He’s one of the good guys.”

“You heard her, sweetheart. Pointy stick the other - ” Spike paused mid-sentence and turned towards me. “Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t Slayer number two.”

“Number one around here, Blondie. And for God’s sake, put your vampire face away if you don’t want Slayers to try and kill you.”

“Sorry about that.” Spike returned to his normal self and smiled. “I was wondering when I’d run into you, Faith.”

Kimberly glared at me. “You know this – this vampire?”

“Damn right she knows me,” Spike said smugly. “She even tried to hit on me once -”

“Shove it, Spike. He’s an old friend of mine,” I told the girls. “We saved the world together. He has a soul. Spike, meet Kim and Agnes – they’re Slayers in training.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ladies. I can tell you’re on your way to greatness.”

Both of them looked thoroughly confused.

“Listen, girls, why don’t we call it an evening?” I said. “You did a good job. Head on home and get some rest.”

Agnes and Kimberly didn’t have to be asked twice. Spike walked up to me and we watched them leave, stake in hand, with that particular supple and alert stride all Slayers seem to have.

“Fancy a drink?” Spike asked pleasantly. “All that fighting’s got me thirsty.”

“Only if you’re treating,” I replied, amused.

We ended up in a little joint where rock music played from an old juke box and the drinks were cheap. We had a lot to catch up on – after all, not six months before, I still thought he was dead and disintegrated. I told him about the training and the new Slayers, but he didn’t have to much to say about himself. He’d been traveling, he said, trying to enjoy himself with a couple of other rogue demons none too preoccupied by the recent Apocalypse.

“So you like it here?” he asked, taking a long, slow sip of port.

“As much as anywhere else. I’ve always been a city girl at heart.”

“And does Robin?”

I smiled and looked down at my glass, tracing my finger on the rim. “That’s really none of your business, now, is it?”

“Come on, give a bloke a clue,” he said with a taunting smile. “Are you two an item or what?”

“Yes,” I replied. “We’re what you could call an ‘item’, but before you start imagining a prim little house and a score of kids, let me tell you, we’re a very liberated couple.”

“I like the sound of that,” Spike said, raising an eyebrow. “Although I’m sure any kid of yours would be awful cute.”

I gave a small laugh and ordered another round. “Shut up.”

I was very tempted to ask him if he’d seen Buffy again during his “travels”, but what he’d told me wasn’t really an invitation to inquire on the subject. Angel had been the one to tell me Spike was alive – had he told Buffy too? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps Spike preferred to keep his return a secret rather than having her reject him, and this time for good.

Poor little Summers girl, with two vampires pining after her, and no proper guts to make her choice between the two of them. Well, she can’t keep running forever… but it didn’t look to me as if Spike had any desire to start the chase again.

“We’ve come a long way from the Hellmouth, haven’t we, baby?” he said, downing his drink in one gulp and looking at the beat-up jukebox. “A bloody long way.”

Not as far as you think, I thought. But then, the same man had been sharing my bed for two years – I guess that was something major.

I didn’t see him again after that night, nor did any of the Slayers, thank God. Word had amongst various undeads that he had gone south and left the country. But if anything, it’s a small underworld – no doubt he’ll resurface soon.



***************************************



After I left Sunnydale, I thought it might be best to put a good number of miles between me and the Hellmouth. But I can’t stand the cold, and despite the fact that I burn pretty easily – us fair-skinned guys have to be careful about that – I decided that I had rather go somewhere hot and where the moon was bright.

That’s how I landed in Mexico. It’s a wonderful country – great food, lots of sand - and it’s pretty funny because all the demons on the run seem to wind up there for some reason. And let me tell you, there were a lot of those after the Hellmouth permanently left the key under the rug.

All these poor souls without a thing to do, scared even to go out prowling at night because they were afraid to run into a pack of rabid Slayers, was a really pitiful sight. Personally, I have nothing to fear – I’ve always been an honest demon, trying to get along with everyone, paying my taxes, minding my own business. But faced with the distress of my pals, I knew I had to do something.

So that’s why I created a kitten farm. Oh, it only took a small investment to start with and a little ingenuity – there’s really nothing to breeding cats. You only have to remember to keep some of them alive long enough for them to produce more kittens.

It was a smashing success at first. Imagine me, good ol’ Clem, providing all the demons in the area with nice, fresh kittens to play poker with, or simply for their own personal use. And of the best quality, too – they weren’t any pedigree kitties for sure, but when the medical inspector dropped by, I can tell you he didn’t find a single sick puss in all the farm.

I was pretty proud of myself, that I was. But then things started to go a bit awry. There were some weird rumours floating around – of course, there can’t be anything other than darn rumours in the underworld, where no one will bother to actually confirm information. Geez! Anyway, some of the more popular demons and vampires were starting to say that those of us who were left should find a way to fight against the Slayers.

I guess some demons believed them, because they moved back North of the border. But I realised something was definitely wrong when some of the guys started to steal my kittens. Just breaking in to their pens during the day and grabbing what they could. It nearly broke my heart when they got the little tabbies.

Now I have to sleep with a holy-water gun next to my pillow. Me, Clem, who hates even the idea of harming anyone! And that thing almost caused a real tragedy the other night, too.

I was washing the dishes when I heard a strange noise outside, coming from the pens. The kittens started mewling like crazy. I knew something was up – usually when someone wants to do business, they come straight to me.

Well, I thought, if they start pilfering kittens during the night, I don’t know what a poor demon can do to save his business. Holy-water gun in hand, I entered the barn.

“Hey you,” I called out to a shadow in a corner. “I know you’re here! Stop that or I’ll – I’ll -”

I gave a squirt of holy water just to show him.

“Ow! Bloody hell, Clem – it’s me!”

I almost dropped the gun when I heard that voice. At first I couldn’t believe it, but then he stepped in the moonlight, and there he was, the same as I remembered him.

“Spike! Is that really you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s me – who do I look like to you, Father Christmas?”

“Oh, Spike! I thought you were dead!” Shucks, I just had to give him a hug, I was so pleased to see him. “I mean, not just vampire-dead, but really -”

“I get you – and I was,” he said. “Don’t ask, it’s a long story.”

“Well, come on, I’ll show you my place,” I said, leading him towards the house. “One bedroom, kitchen, mud pond and crypt. Groovy, isn’t it?”

“Wonderful. And it’s a nice – er - kitty farm you have,” he remarked, glancing back at the pens. “Never knew you had it in you to start your own business.”

He sat down on the porch swing and I scurried about inside for some drinks. “To be honest, things haven’t been going so hot lately,” I called out to him, taking a bottle out of the cupboard. “Demons are getting awful jittery and light-handed, if you see what I mean. But where have you been all this time? It must’ve been at least two years since Sunnydale imploded.”

“About that, yeah. I’ve just been hanging about – spent some time in Paris, some time in New York… a sort of holiday, you might say.”

“That’s great,” I said, bringing out the bottle and two glasses. “Hope you got lots of rest and some nice brawls – a vampire’s got to stay in shape, eh?”

I filled the glasses and we clinked. “To all those good times we had,” I said, feeling rather emotional. Spike always told me I was a big softie. The martini was good, but it could’ve used a slice of lemon. “Sorry if it isn’t too good – I wasn’t expecting any company.”

“Doesn’t matter what you’re drinking, it’s who you’re drinking with,” Spike said, a somewhat wistful expression on his face.

“Aw, stop it, you’re gonna make me all weepy again. By the way, how’d you find out I was here?”

“I asked around in the kitten-poker playing community,” Spike said, grinning. “You’re as famous as bloody Dracula now.”

“Nonsense,” I said, feeling the skin flaps on my arms colour with pink. “It’s really all one big family – everyone knows everyone. Hard to go anywhere without half the undead learning about it.” I slapped my knee, struck with a thought. “Say, that reminds – did you know that Angelus moved out of LA?”

Spike looked at me, surprised. “You don’t say?”

“Moved to San Jose. Heard the rent was lower over there.”

He pondered on this for a moment, rolling his glass between his palms. “Angel – bloody long time since I’ve seen him.”

“And what about our fabulous Buffy? And her sweet little sister, Dawn?”

Spike continued to roll the glass in his hands. He looked more thoughtful than ever. “They’re fine – but I haven’t seen them either.”

“Oh, okay.” I took a sip, feeling a bit stupid. Obviously that hadn’t been a good question to ask him. “Well, that’s good. Yup.”

“Ah, never mind me, Clem,” Spike said suddenly, laughing and draining his glass. “I’m just too daft for my own good. Come on, let’s have another one.”

Spike stayed with me a week or so. It was just like the good old nights – playing kitten-poker, escaping countless numbers of evil curses after wiping the guys out, visiting the ruins of Aztec temples and the zombies that live there… A real fun time. I was sorry to see him go.

Don’t know where he went – it’s always hard to tell where Spike’s off too. He promised he’d come visit during the holidays. I hope he does – I’ve set up a guest-room in the crypt.

The night was hot and dry as Spike wandered around the streets of San Jose. It was a beautiful city at night, far less smoggy than Los Angeles – dark and glittering like a piece of hematite polished by desert sands. He would like it here, no doubt. It had a bit of the old charm of a Spanish city mixed with the wild emptiness of the New World. Now all he had to do was get a place to call his own, and preferably not in a cemetery. Surely a vampire with a soul deserved a better place.

Spike lit a cigarette and looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in his palm as he walked. A friendly client of Clem’s had given him the address. He hoped it was correct – he’d hate to have to admit to Angel that he’d searched the city through and through for him.

The apartment block was fairly modern, built in a revisited colonial style and painted all in white, with flowerbeds and shrubs lining the front facade. It was hard to be believe Angel lived here, actually paying a rent and taking out the garbage. The things a soul could make you do.

The vampire made his way inside. As he arrived on the landing, he felt a pang of nervousness – there was something about this place that reminded him of Sunnydale. And there was a time when he used to think only one person in the world could make Angel settle down like this.

Spike knocked on the door, willing himself not to feel so apprehensive. This was bloody Angelus, after all – the Great Poof, as he affectionately liked to refer to him. There was no reason to be nervous – no reason to believe that perhaps…

“I’ll get it,” came a muffled female voice from inside.

His feeling of apprehension surged, making the blood rush in his veins. Surely that couldn’t be her.

The door opened and a young woman appeared, looking at him curiously.

“May I help you?”

Completely stunned, Spike was short of an answer for a minute. “Well, I - ”

The young woman was in her twenties, with dark almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones and thick auburn hair that fell down in curls on her shoulders. She was small but shapely, and looked like such a perfect little doll standing there that the vampire had to suppress a laugh.

“I’ll be damned,” he finished under his breath. “This is quite a surprise.”

She frowned, cautiously narrowing the span of the open door. “Excuse me?”

“No need to be afraid of me, sweetheart. I’m just looking for someone who I was told lives here. His name’s Angel, perhaps you’ve -”

Suddenly, the looming figure of his former friend appeared behind the young woman. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Spike grinned.

“And here’s the main man himself. Sorry if I interrupted anything - I thought I might find you alone.”

“Nice to see you, too, Spike,” Angel said flatly, opening the door wide again to make room for him. “Come on in.”

The young woman watched the two men, arms crossed, arms crossed. "Oh, so you're the infamous Spike?"

Spike threw his arm around Angel’s shoulders. “The one and only. Eh, Peaches?”

“Spike, this is Ruby,” the other vampire said, looking very uncomfortable. “My – my girlfriend.”

“I kind of figured that out,” Spiked replied, thoroughly amused by Angel’s embarrassment. “It’s a pleasure, sweetheart. He’s had his share of women back in the days, but I must admit -”

“You must have come a long way,” Angel interrupted him, making tremendous efforts not to smack him upside the head. “Darling, why don’t you whip us up something to eat?”

“Sure thing,” Ruby replied, turning away towards the kitchen and giving Spike a warm smile over her shoulder. “It’s great to meet you, Spike. Angel’s told me all sorts of things about you.”

“The rule of thumb in that case is not to believe anything he says,” he called out to her, before Angel grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away to the living room.


***************************************


“You know, I was almost nervous coming here, but now I’m simply astounded.”

It was much later that evening. Ruby had gone to bed after shortly dinner, leaving the two vampires to talk alone.

“What’s so astounding?” Angel asked, pouring himself some coffee. “It’s been two years, Spike. I wasn’t going to stay alone, living on a hope that had no reason to be.”

“Well - ” I am, he almost said, before brutally chasing the thought away from his head. “- that makes perfect sense. And your China girl is a real babe.”

“Ruby’s not from China,” Angel said, irritated. “She’s Kyrghyz.”

Spike shrugged. “Kyrghyzstan – not your typical holiday location to pick up girls, but to each his own, I suppose.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “We met in California, you idiot. She’s lived in the States for years now. She’s a nurse – works the night shift at the hospital.”

Spike chuckled, leaning his head back on the couch. “Angelus, former terror of the underworld, picking out curtains with a nurse. Next thing I know you’ll be telling me she doesn’t know about your little allergy to sunlight.”

“She knew before we even started dating,” Angel said. “I told everything from start to finish.”

“Well, that must’ve been an interesting conversation. We know it appeals to Slayers – but how does a normal girl take to having an undead former blood-sucking killer for a boyfriend?”

“Actually, she’s not really as ‘normal’ as you may think. I mean, she’s not a vampire or a witch or anything like that,” Angel added quickly.

Spike leaned forward again, propping his elbows on his knees. “Succubus?”

“Don’t be disgusting.” The dark-haired vampire made a face and took a sip of coffee. “Ruby was born in a small village in the Tian-Shan mountains. All the women in her family are Midwives – you’ve heard of those, I suppose.”

“No, I thought storks delivered babies,” Spike snapped. “What do you think, you sod?”

“The Midwives I’m talking about don’t just deliver babies,” Angel said pointedly. “They’re healers – they have a special fluid of energy running in their hands and in their voice that they can use to mend bones, heal muscle tissue, even restore mental sanity.”

“I’m beginning to understand why she’s interested in you.”

Angel chose to ignore his comment. “They’re also very learned in the power of plants. They can make healing potions, traceless poisons, anything really – and all natural. Not a trace of magic.”

“Too bad we didn’t have these wonder women around when we were fighting it out,” Spike remarked.

“You won’t find any on this side of the world – the vast majority Midwives live in Eastern Europe and Asia.”

“Hence you meeting one in sunny California.”

Angel sighed, the trace of a smile forming on his lips. “I came back to Los Angeles at first – I thought I could handle it, you know, and I think down inside, I still hoped… Anyway, the demon world was in a sorry shape. Nearly all of them cleared out, but those who stayed acted like they had nothing to lose – they had no magic left, so they started to pick on easy preys, humans teenagers and kids. What was left us gathered some new followers, but one night I stumbled on a real nasty Havok demon. I got wounded pretty bad – I was unconscious when Gunn took me to Ruby. He’d heard there was a Midwife operating in town. She healed me – and she made all the pain go away, inside and out.”

“I can imagine.”

“She’s so different from any other girl I’ve known. She’s kind, calm, and patient – it’s like she knows how to reach in and take out all that’s hurtful and leave only the good. I’ve never met someone who’s so compassionate, who feels so much.”

Spike allowed himself to grin. She sounded like the perfect match for his byronesque friend.

“This is all very touching, but that still doesn’t explain how she got here in the first place.”

“Well – let’s just say Ruby had to leave her homeland behind a few years ago.”

“I’m guessing there’s a good reason for that,” Spike ventured, curious to hear more.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Angel replied, looking pained.

Spike nodded. The odds that she had simply left to study at Berkeley were rather slim, and he didn’t want to prod Angel into telling a story that wasn’t his to tell. Besides, there was another very interesting subject he wanted to breach.

“Does Buffy know?”

Angel pressed his lips together. From the look on his face, it was clear that she didn’t, and that he was extremely reluctant to change that.

“Well, she’s going to have to sooner or later, isn’t she?”

“Why, are you two planning a honeymoon at the Slayers’ resort in Rome?”

“Rome? What does this have to do with Rome?”

“Well, that’s where she lives, isn’t it?” Spike said, getting annoyed. He didn’t like to stretch out any conversation about Buffy more than he had to – letting himself think about her in earnest, picturing her deep eyes and determined smile in his mind, was still like rubbing salt to a fresh wound. “I can’t see how else she would find out about it.”

Angel looked at him in silence. It was always the calm, quiet side of his ancient companion that scared Spike the most.

“What is it? Why are you using your mystic glare of death on me?”

“I thought you knew,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought she was the reason you came back here.”

“I came to see you, you big prat! Thought you might be up to something, moving here!” Spike exclaimed angrily as the meaning of Angel’s words started to dawn on him. “Are you trying to tell me that - ”

“Spike, Buffy moved back to California. Flew in just last week. She’s here, with Dawn, in San Jose.”

Spike paced around the room, lighting what felt like his hundredth cigarette of the morning. He’d stayed up all night, and it was close to noon, but he had no desire to sleep. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head, each one more inconsistent and nonsensical than the last, and all converging towards one object.

Buffy.

Knowing she was in the same city, perhaps only a few blocks away, wrecked havoc on his nerves. The silkiness of her hair, the smell of her skin, the plump softness of her lips – they were so close he could almost feel them on his fingertips. He would’ve braved the sun naked if it meant having a chance to touch the object of the terrible longing that was devouring him.

“Bloody hell, I’m going to go bonkers staying here,” he said aloud, looking around the dimly lit room.

Ruby had kindly offered that he stay with them until he found a place of his own. They had a spare room, so it was really no trouble. The look on Angel’s face said otherwise, but Spike had gratefully accepted.

Ruby was awake, and the heavy, intoxicating scent of incense made its way to his room. It was nice, no doubt, to wake up every evening next to this kind of practical, comforting woman, he thought, instead of a temperamental, bossy, determined, beautiful, sexy…

Spike let himself fall on his bed and buried his face in his hands.

“Damn you, Slayer,” he murmured. “Damn you to hell. Couldn’t you have stayed in Rome like a nice girl?”

It was frustrating to think that all his efforts had been in vain. Their paths had crossed again, and he was just as infatuated with her as he’d ever been, his mind filled with thoughts too long suppressed and striking back with a vengeance.

Holding her in his arm for hours, kissing her gently… Or pushing her roughly against a wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, feeling her struggle and ask for more at the same time, tugging so hard at his shirt that the seams ripped…

His body responded eagerly to the images that flashed before him. Spike groaned. All the women in Paris, New-York and Mexico wouldn’t have been enough to calm his ardour. Only she made him feel satiated.

You fucking idiot, she’ll never take you back, he thought. He had entertained a feeble hope of going away again to keep her from learning the truth, but leaving when she was so near was more than he could bear. Already the irrepressible urge to go to her was building up in his chest, smothering his will and, it seemed, whatever sense he had left.

I can’t see her – she’ll be furious when she finds out I’m alive, and she’ll stake me. No, she’ll simply reject me, which is even worse. Tell me to stay out of her life for good. It’s Angel she loves, not me.

And yet… she had told him she loved him, in that one glorious moment where their hands and souls had touched… But that had only been because he was about to die – a kind of thank you, or a reward for his brave, noble action.

“Brave and noble, my arse,” he growled. “A doggie getting a biscuit is more like it.”

There was no way he could let Buffy find out about him. But if the world wasn’t big enough for the both of them, it was unlikely the city of San Jose would be.


***************************************


“Here, doggie, have a biscuit!”

“Do you have any experience with animals, Miss Summers?”

Dawn looked up at the owner of the pampering salon, Mrs Klomsky, a hefty and amiable woman, and nodded eagerly. “Oh yes, tons. I – owned a dog once. When I was little. And there was a rat staying at our house too.”

The woman didn’t seem fully convinced. “Well, Rufus here certainly seems to like you.”

Dawn smiled nervously. The dog had started joyfully bounding around her as soon as she’d entered the store, no doubt seeing a great big green ball of energy to play with. “I guess I have a way with animals,” she said.

“We pay six dollars an hour. I’ll take you in part-time at first to see how you manage.”

“Really?” Dawn exclaimed, overjoyed. “Thanks! I mean – you won’t regret it, Mrs Klomsky.”

Her boss gave her a brief but sincere smile. Dawn was overjoyed. It was only three days after they had arrived in San Jose, and she already had a job. Of course, it wasn’t much of a career starter, but there was no doubt Buffy would be pleased.

“If you have a part-time job, you’ll still have time to finish your high school degree,” she’d told her the evening before. “You know, with one of those online schools.”

Dawn wasn’t sure he wanted to finish her diploma. Everyone in college would laugh at her if they found out. Besides, she didn’t think she was any good at scholarly stuff.

In was strange in San Jose. Dawn had never lived in such a big city. The apartment she and Buffy lived in, provided by the Watcher’s Counsil, was roomier than the one they had in Rome and nicely furnished, but it felt odd to be alone with her sister after living with all their friends for so long. Not that Dawn wasn’t old enough to take care of herself when Buffy was out patrolling in the evening. She just longed for some familiar faces.

Buffy had told her why there were in San Jose as soon as they had got there – another scary weapon they had to protect at all costs. She had also told her that Angel was in San Jose too, so they wouldn’t be alone. This didn’t really comfort Dawn – she didn’t know the first thing about the guy, except that he was a nice vampire and Buffy’s ex-boyfriend.

Things went a little better after she started work. One of the other girls working there, Juliet, a pretty blonde with a dazzling smile, was just her age and very friendly. The daughter of a rather wealthy restaurant owner, she only worked at the pampering salon to make a few extra bucks before taking over one of her father’s business.

“There’s not much to do in this part of the city,” she’d told Dawn as they were washing two small, yapping dogs side by side. “The usual shopping trips at the mall, going to see movies at the Cineplex, and hanging out at the Chavaz – it’s the only decent club around here.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Dawn replied enthusiastically. It was a nice change to hear about what normal people her age did.

Mrs Klomsky was reasonably happy with Dawn. She worked hard, and although her tendency to daydream often made her distracted, she had a great contact with animals, whether making them settle down when she was bathing them, or having them play when she took them out for a walk.

It was Thursday evening, a week after she had started, when Buffy finally came to visit the salon herself. They had just closed, and Dawn was sweeping the floor when she saw Buffy standing outside.

“Oh, that’s my sister, Mrs Klomsky,” she told her boss, who was counting the day’s receipts behind the cash register. “Can I let her in?”

“Go ahead, Dawn.”

Dawn motioned for Buffy come in and turned the key in the door to open it. “Hey!” she said as her sister stepped inside. “I thought you were busy tonight.”

“Well, I am, but I thought I’d just stop to see how you were doing.” She looked around and smiled at Mrs Klomsky “Hi, I’m Buffy, Dawn’s sister.”

“Oh, and this is Juliet,” Dawn said, waving her friend over. “One of my esteemed colleagues.”

The two girl looked at each other and giggled. Buffy smiled. “Well, this is great,” she said. “How are the dogs treating you?”

“Better than their owners,” Juliet replied. “They make a real fuss over anything, but the pooches never complain.”

“That’s the advantage of living things who can’t talk.” She glanced outside and turned back to Dawn. “Listen, can we chat for a second before I go?”

“Um… sure,” Dawn said, glancing at Juliet, who smiled politely and returned to rinsing the basins.

Buffy grew more serious. “Listen, I don’t know what time I’ll be back tonight, but don’t worry, okay?”

“Why, is anything special happening?”

“No, not really, but…” She smoothed down her hair, looking rather apprehensive. “Angel called me and he wants to meet me while I’m making my rounds.”

Dawn looked down. “Oh. So you and Angel – there’s still something between you two, right? Are you going to start dating him again?”

“I don’t know, Dawnie – it’s all a bit complicated.”

“Well, you certainly dressed nice for the occasion,” she remarked slyly, noting her sister’s pretty skirt and carefully arranged hair-do.

Buffy gave her a look. “Dawnie, don’t tease. I have to go now. Get yourself home before the sun goes down, okay?”

Dawn nodded and gave her a small wave as she watched her leave. Deep inside, she wasn’t that pleased that Buffy was starting up with Angel again – that meant she would spend even more time away from their apartment, leaving Dawn alone.

“Your sister looks nice,” Juliet said as Dawn resumed her sweeping. “What does she do?”

“Oh, she – she sells real estate,” Dawn blurted out.

“So, do you have to go meet her after work or what?”

“Oh no, she’s seeing up with one of her boyfriends,” Dawn replied, rolling her eyes. “So I guess it’s pizza and TV for me, as always.”

Juliet smiled. “Listen, why don’t we go hang out at the Chavaz? I’ve been meaning to show you the place.”

“Gee, Jules, I don’t know…” She bit her lip. Buffy had told to get home before dark to be safe – perhaps she thought there was a risk? “I feel kinda beat.”

“Oh, come on, Dawn,” her friend pleaded. “It’ll be really fun – and we don’t have to stay late.”

“Well…”

Dawn hesitated. She didn’t want to spend another night alone at home, and the Chavaz wasn’t anywhere near the museum, just a few blocks away from the apartment. What could possibly happen? Besides, she had proved more than once than she knew how to defend herself.

She grinned at Juliet. “All right, let’s go. No reason why Buffy should be the one having all the fun!”

The clock in the kitchen read ten thirty when Ruby was ready to leave for her night shift. She had pulled her hair back into a neat bun, slipped on her white blouse and left some dinner for Angel on the kitchen table.

She felt a ball of nervousness form in her chest and tried her best to breath it away. It wasn’t often she felt anxious. She was usually concentrated and relaxed, set on doing her best in any circumstance. Panicking, being aggressive and wound-up never helped, it only made things worse.

But Ruby just couldn’t shake the thought of Angel going to meet that girl, Buffy, who he hadn’t seen in such a long time. He hadn’t kept anything from Ruby, had been completely honest – he and Buffy had been lovers, and despite their separation, his feelings for her had never completely subsided… until recently, when he and Ruby had met.

“There’s nothing left between us,” he’d told her that evening before leaving. “We’re friends, that’s all, and we fight for the same cause. You have nothing to worry about, my darling, I promise.”

Did she? She trusted Angel with all her heart, but every man had his weakness, and vampires were no exceptions. Perhaps he would change his mind when he saw Buffy… Ruby knew better than anyone else the power memories could have on someone. And though she was a experienced Midwife, well-learned in the art of meditation and self-control, she was first and above all a woman, very much in love with the man of her life. Losing him was not an option.

She left the kitchen, looking for her shoes, and saw Spike sitting on the sofa, deep in thought. If anything, he wasn’t much trouble as a guest – he’d hardly left his room in the last two days, had ate next to nothing, and politely refrained from smoking in the rest of the apartment. But his state worried her – she could feel he was in pain, and it unsettled her.

“Spike, are you okay?” she said.

He looked at her and gave her a tight smile. “I’ll be fine, Ruby. Don’t worry about me.”

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” she asked. “I think it would do you some good to go out.”

“No, I was planning on staying here, and…” His voice trailed off, as if he didn’t know what to say.

Ruby walked up to him. “Turn around,” she requested in a soft voice.

Spike looked up at her curiously, but did as he was told, and shifted on the couch to face the wall. Ruby placed her hands on his shoulders, frowning at the bundle of constricted muscles she felt there. She closed her eyes and slipped her thumbs just under his collar, pressing his skin.

“Spike, you need to go out,” she said quietly. “You’re trying to bundle yourself up, but it’s not doing any good.”

Spike exhaled deeply but said nothing. She tried to feel something coming from him through her hands, but everything was guarded, and angry. Something inside was resisting with all its might to the soothing energy of her hands.

“What’s so terrible that a vampire should fear facing the night?” she murmured. “He should face it, and fight it.”

Spike nodded slowly. She felt a tingle of something pass through her fingers – a spark of terrible longing, quickly pushed back down. But she had had enough time to recognize what it was.

“Ah, this is it. This is it. But staying here only one more prison, Spike. You know that.”

Again, he nodded. After awhile, she slowly lifted her hands and backed away from him.

“Thanks,” he said, looking a bit dazed. “I feel a little better now, I – I think I really should go out.”

Ruby gave him a warm smile. “An excellent idea. There’s some dinner on the counter too, if you want some. Sheep’s blood and broccolis.”

Spike nodded and raked his hands through his hair. Sensing that it was better to leave him alone now, Ruby put her coat on and left, quietly closing the door behind her.



***************************************


The Chavaz was crowded with people, and Dawn sipped her margarita, watching Juliet dance with a cute guy not far away from their table. The music was mostly salsa, samba and the likes, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Dawn smiled – it had been awhile since she’d felt so carefree.

The song ended and Juliet smiled at her partner, then walked back to their table.

“Wow, that was a blast,” she said, breathless. “Are you sure you don’t want to dance?”

“No, I’m not much of a dancer at all. This place is great, though.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. They have live bands on Saturday nights. And the drinks are pretty cheap too.” She winked at Dawn and raised her hand at the waiter.

“Jules, I think I should get home soon,” Dawn said. It was nearly eleven o’clock.

“Okay, but let’s just have another round before we go,” Juliet insisted.

By the time they had finished their drinks, Dawn was feeling a bit dizzy. It was definitely time to leave.

As they made their way towards the door, the young man Juliet had been dancing with, who as sitting at a table with two friends, called out to her.

“Hey, baby, can we buy you and your friend a drink?”

“No, thanks,” Juliet replied, grinning. “Maybe some other time – we were just leaving.”

“So early? Come on, have a drink with us,” his friend said.

“Sorry, guys, but we’re off.”

Juliet had to go to the ladies’ room before leaving. While she waited for her, Dawn noticed with a pang of discomfort that the three guys were also getting ready to leave. Just then, she spotted Juliet leaving the ladies’ room and rushed over to her.

“Come on, Jules, let’s go,” she said hurriedly, glancing over her shoulder as they walked out the door.

The two girls weren’t even around the corner when they realized they were being followed by the men from the club.

“Hey, girls, we are you going?” one of them said loudly.

“Just ignore them,” Juliet said, clutching Dawn’s arm and walking a bit faster.

“Don’t run off, we won’t bite – we just want a good time.”

The three of them laughed idiotically, like it was the best trick anyone had ever pulled. They were catching up. Dawn decided that she had had enough – she wasn’t going to let a bunch of jerks intimidate her when she had faced demons twice their size. She stopped and turned around.

“Listen, you freaks, we’re going home, and we don’t want any of your time, so just leave us alone!”

“Whoa, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” one of them said, pretending to back away.

“We don’t have no problem with you going home – why don’t you invite us up?”

“Not on your life,” Juliet spat. “Fuck off!”

“No, I don’t think we will,” her dancing partner replied, grabbing her by the wrist. “Not until you finish what you started on the dance floor, you little tease.”

Juliet struggled against him, and Dawn tried to push him back, but drinking cocktails on an empty stomach had made her weak, and there were also his friends to contend with.

“Let her go,” she cried, but the other two blocked her away against the wall. “Let her go! HELP!”


***************************************


Spike was careful to stay as far away from the museum district as possible – if there was one thing he wanted to avoid, it was seeing Buffy and Angel walk hand in hand in the moonlight after one of Buffy’s warm “hellos”.

At least I won’t be the only one raising hell if that happens, he thought bitterly as an image of Ruby popped in his mind. She had done exactly what Angel had described – she had tried to reach in and take out what hurt. But she was hurting too, and it flowed from her fingers down to his spine. It was the most bizarre impression he had ever felt.

Bloody poof. I just can’t understand what women see in him. Acting like some sort of perpetual martyr just because he’s got a soul – bite me. You don’t see me whining about it all the time…

Not really knowing where he was going, Spike looked around him for any building that might look empty and abandoned. What he needed most of all was a place of his own.

A couple of block further, he stumbled upon a small square and what looked like a very old chapel. The brass plaque on it read, “Our Lady of Guadalupe”. Around the square were a couple of old-fashioned houses, many of which were being renovated, a construction sign said, because they no longer met regulations against earthquakes.

Spike smiled. This sounded like the perfect place – and if he’d have to kick out a few vampires to move in, he would be happy to oblige.

A bit cheered up by this prospect, Spike continued to walk along the streets. He came to a more modern part of town, where the avenues were large and the sidewalk deserted. Across the street from him, he saw a couple of restaurants, and the neon sign of a latino bar – the “Chavaz”.

“That doesn’t even mean anything,” he grumbled to himself, pausing at its level. Maybe he should’ve stayed in Mexico with Clem and the kittens.

He started to walk away, hands stuffed in the pockets on his overcoat, when he heard a women scream, “Help!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, not tonight,” he growled, determined to ignore it. It was probably just another bunch of kiddies joking around.

The cry came again. A cry for help, followed by something Spike couldn’t quite make out.

“Oh no you don’t,” he told himself sternly. “You want to keep a low profile – you mind your own business.”

But his legs wouldn’t move, and his eyes instinctively started darting around, trying to spot where the cry was coming from. Finally, he saw them, half-hidden in a side-alley. Two blokes pinning a girl against a wall, and another one man-handling a pretty blonde teenager who was trying to get away.

Spike shook his head at his own stupidity and bounded across the street.

“Hey, mate,” he called out to the one who had the girl by the wrist. “How about you fight with me instead?”

The man barely had time to turn around before a punch landed straight in his face, throwing him back several feet.

“Hit the road, sweetheart,” he told the blonde girl, who started to run away, but then turned around.

“Dawn!” she cried out.

Spike had taken the other two by the collar, ready to bang their thick skulls together, when he heard the name, and saw the face of the girl who was pined against the wall, and a pair of familiar blue eyes, open wide and looking back at him in horror and disbelief.

“Bloody hell!”

The one of the two took advantage of this distraction and kicked Spike in the stomach. Furious, he let his vampire face surface, and, growling, hit the man violently across the jaw.

“Juliet, run!” Dawn yelled. “Go!”

Juliet disappeared around the corner, and soon, the three boys were stumbling in the opposite direction, terrorized and beaten, making haste to escape the monster that had come out of nowhere.

Spike watched them, returning to his normal self, knowing that as soon as he turned his gaze the other way it would land on Dawn, the girl he’d come to consider almost as his little sister, and who, until a minute ago, thought he was dead.

Not feeling ready to face her yet, he cast his eyes down, only to find a stake positioned on his chest.

“If you make a move, I will kill you.”

Spike looked up at her. Tears were welling in her eyes, and he could see she wasn't kidding.

“I don’t know who you are, or how you took on Spike’s appearance, but -”

“Dawn, it’s me,” he said. “I swear - ”

“Shut up! Spike is dead – you can’t be him!”

“Well, if you don’t know me, nibblet, I certainly know you,” he said patiently. “You’re a cosmic key in the shape of a charming young lady, you were a klepto for awhile – too bad you didn’t stay that way, I thought it was rather fun - and the first boy you kissed was a vampire. You’re always getting into trouble, and I’m always saving your arse. Now do you believe me?”

Trembling, Dawn let the stake down, a tear streaming down her cheek. “Oh God… Spike… it really is you.”

She brought her hand to her mouth, and a sob shook her shoulders. “I thought – I thought -”

Spike patted the top of her head, then pulled her into a hug. “Come on, nibblet, don’t cry. A natural mistake.”

The Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum was still and quiet under the moonlight. The only sound came from the fountain gurgling in front of the entrance steps, where the reproduction of an ancient statue seemed to stand guard.

Buffy quietly walked around the area, attentive to each noise. She was more nervous than she would have liked. She had no idea what to expect of her reunion with Angel. Her mind had automatically latched on to the fact that he had been her first love, always there for her – he had to be her soul mate. Who else could make her happy if not Angel?

But while her mind said this, her heart didn’t seem to follow. There was still an empty place there where Angel just didn’t fit.

What is wrong with me? she wondered. Haven’t I always dreamed of the day when we could finally be together?

Another dream flashed in her mind, a dream that felt more real that any hopes for her and Angel ever had, and easily filled the gap in her heart.

There hadn't been a single day when Buffy hadn't thought of Spike since he disappeared, but she had thought of him even more than usual since moving to San Jose. It was almost as if he were there, waiting for her, somewhere in the shadows. Sometimes she felt as if he was so near that she would see him standing behind her if only she turned around.

The Staff must be affecting me already, she thought, but she knew this had nothing do with demonic magic – only with her own feelings.

The sound of a step, muffled by the grass, tore her away from her thoughts. A familiar figure stood waiting in the shade.

“Hello, Angel,” Buffy said in a wavering voice.

“Hello, Buffy.”

For a moment, neither of them moved, looking awkwardly at each other, unsure of what to do. Then Angel moved forward and touched her shoulder. A moment later, she was in his arms.

But the instant he pressed her against his chest, she felt as if something had changed. He wasn’t holding on to her like he never wanted to let her go. He was holding her like Xander or Giles might.

She stepped away from him, slightly shaken by this revelation, and forced her lips into a smile.

“It’s been awhile,” she said simply.

“A very long while,” Angel agreed. “Seemed like the world had definitely stopped being in danger, but I guess that’s just too much to ask.”

“Giles told me you knew about the Staff,” Buffy said. “How did you find out?”

“He was the one to tell me. He knew I was in California, and he needed someone here to keep watch until you came…”

Buffy nodded, uncomfortable. “Angel, listen – I think I should tell you…”

“No, wait,” Angel interrupted. “I have something to tell you first.”

Buffy gulped. What was he going to say? Was he expecting their relationship to return to what it was? And what would she answer if he did?

“I care about you, Buffy, and I always will. You know that, right?”

She took a deep breath. “Angel, I don’t think we should -”

“Please, Buffy. I have to do this. You see, you - you didn’t seem to want to see me when I was in Rome, and you stayed away for so long, well… I thought it would be better for me to let you go, to move on, and… I’ve met someone else.”

Well, that settles it, at least.

“I see,” she said quietly, trying to contain the strange and sickening feeling of disappointment stirring inside her.

“Her name’s Ruby. She’s living here with me.”

“Why didn’t – why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Angel looked down at his feet. “I don’t know. I was too much of a coward to do it… I know I should’ve. I’m sorry.”

Buffy shook her head. “That’s all right. I understand why you didn’t. After all I didn’t tell you about Spike either, when…”

Angel looked up sharply at her. Buffy frowned. “What? Don’t tell me you’re still jealous, because that would be really pushing it.”

“No, no, it has nothing to do with that,” he said. “Buffy, I think you should know -”

His words hung in the air, unfinished. She could tell he was about to tell her something, when a crash resounded in the distance. They looked at each other a second longer, then bounded in the direction of the museum.

“The back entrance,” Angel said, and Buffy followed him around the building.

When they finally arrived to the back of the building, they halted in their steps. A janitor in blue overalls was taking out some trash, and had stopped in the middle of his task, looking at the two well-dressed visitors beholding him with a rather wary expression.

“Can I help you?”

“Sorry, we just thought -”

Angel smiled politely and led Buffy away, interrupting her attempt at an explanation.

“We’re going to have to get used to working around each other again,” he said, not unkindly. “I know a lot has changed, but I really want us to be friends.”

“Me too, Angel. But I think it may take a while.”

The vampire nodded in understanding, and Buffy gave him a smile, a real one this time, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach. She realized, looking at him, that she wasn’t in love with Angel, and hadn’t been for a long time – so why did she feel so terrible?

You feel terrible because he’s with someone he loves, and you’re not, a little voice in her head said.

Buffy tried to brush the thought aside, but even as it entered her mind, she knew it was the truth.


***************************************


“So, doggie pampering, huh?”

Dawn nodded and sipped her hot cocoa. Spike had brought her home, and she was curled up on the couch while he sat on the floor.

“Yeah. It’s not so bad, actually, and I’m pretty good at it.”

Spike gave her a half-smile. “How can you not be bored with it, after all the exciting, life-threatening situations you’ve been in?”

“Well, sometimes I am, but – well, I’m not a super witch or a Slayer or anything like that. I’m just a normal person, so I better get used to living a normal life.”

“Bollocks. How many girls your age can read bloody Latin and a score of other languages? Sorry to disappoint you, nibblet, but you’re anything but normal.”

“So? All the Watchers are fluent in Latin and ancient Greek and all that. And I can’t be a Watcher, I’m a girl!”

Spike shook his head. “What a bunch of sexist pricks. Say what you want, but being a vampire is a same-sex opportunity. Anyway, that’s not the point – the only thing wrong with you is that you haven’t had your calling yet.”

“I’m eighteen – that’s pretty old to get a calling, isn’t it?”

“Hey, all of us aren’t bloody wonder kids like your sister and her friend Red. I was far older than eighteen when I got bit.”

Dawn shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps you’re right. I hope you are. I really don’t want to spend my life walking dogs.”

Both of them were silent for a moment. Dawn glanced slyly at her friend.

“So, are you going stay in San Jose with me and Buffy?” she asked innocently.

Spike glared at her. “I haven’t quite decided yet, but if I do stay, it sure as hell won’t be with you and Buffy. Your sister is not to know I’m here – or anywhere, for that matter. Things are better off with her thinking I’m a bunch of cinders laying at the bottom of the Hellmouth.”

“Oh come on, Spike,” Dawn pleaded. “You should tell her. She hasn’t even looked at another guy since you died.” She paused. “It feels kinda weird to say that.”

“She’ll get over it, no doubt about that,” Spike replied flatly. “She’s got Peaches the Happy Vampire to cheer to her up now.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Spike, you can be such a idiot sometimes. She doesn’t love Angel, or she would’ve tried to see him long before coming here. She just feels lonely, that’s all.”

Spike gave a small laugh. “Well, that’s a comforting thought. Listen, it’s very sweet of you to try and get me to stay, but I’m afraid I’m a hopeless case.”

“Will you come and see me at least?” she asked sadly.

“Of course I will, little bit,” he replied, smiling. “You make some wicked hot cocoa.”

Spike was just slipping his coat on when he heard the intercom ring. He froze in horror as Dawn hurried to pick up the call.

“Okay, what’s the password?” she asked, then mouthed to Spike, “It’s Buffy!”

The vampire felt a cold sweat in his back and his stomach lurched. Buffy was there, right outside the building. And if he didn’t think fast, they would come face to face in a matter of seconds.

Dawn hung up the intercom phone. “I didn’t think she’d return until at least two… There’s no way you can get out of here without her seeing you,” she said.

“Well, there’s no way she’s seeing me, so we better find a solution fast!”

Dawn looked around, and finally threw the coat closet open. “Hide in here!”

“Are you barmy? That’s the worse hiding place ever! It’s the first thing she’ll open coming home!”

“It’s more than a hundred degrees outside, Spike, she isn’t wearing a coat! Now get inside!”

Just as Spike was cramming himself behind the rows of coats, the key turned in the lock. Dawn shut the closet. He couldn’t see anything, but he could hear the door open, and smell a very distinctive perfume coming from the coats and from outside the closet, a fresh scent of soap and rose and something else.

Buffy’s scent. Buffy’s skin.

“Hey Dawn. Did you have a nice evening?”

Spike closed his eyes. Hearing her so close to him, vibrant and alive, after so long, made a tremulous thrill course up his spine, and it took all the strength he had not to tear the closet open at that instant and reveal himself to her to match that delicious voice with the sight of her beautiful face.

“Yeah, it was fine. Just – hacking about, doing nothing interesting.”

“Did you have someone over?” Buffy’s voice had suddenly gone suspicious.

“Oh, um, Juliet came to hang out, but she left before you got here.”

“Well, you could’ve put the mugs in the dishwasher, Dawnie. They’ll leave rings on the wood if you leave them there.”

“Okay, sorry. So, um – how did your date with Angel go?”

Spike’s fists curled up into balls. He would beat the bloody bastard to a pulp if he’d pulled a move on Buffy.

“It wasn’t a date, and it was fine.”

Oh, bloody hell, no! What does she mean by fine?

Dawn seemed to be reading his thoughts from the other side of the wardrobe. “Does that mean you’re back together?”

“No. Listen, we were in love a long time ago, but it’s simply no longer the case, for either one of us,” she explained, as if Dawn would be somewhat disappointed by the news. “He has a girlfriend now, and I – I have other things on my mind.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone soon too,” she said lightly.

Spike grit his teeth. Dawn was a great girl, but she really didn’t know how to hold her tongue.

“It’s far from being my priority right now,” Buffy replied. “Right now I feel like going to bed, and so should you – it’s almost one o’clock.”

“All right,” Dawn said reluctantly. “I’m beat too, anyway.”

He heard the two girls rummage around for awhile, tidying up the living room, then the light clicked and the voices died down. There were footsteps down the hall, the noise of doors closing, and silence.


*****************************


Spike waited a long time before stepping out. The streetlights threw a square of pale light on the wall through the window, and he spotted a soft cotton cardigan hanging from a hook in the hallway. There was the door, his means of escape, of leaving this world impregnated with Buffy’s presence for the comforting anonymity of the streets.

But he didn’t want to leave. Just a few feet away, behind a flimsy door, Buffy was sleeping, peaceful, wearing nothing but one of those flimsy satin things she had.

Snap out of it, he told himself. You’re about to do something very, very stupid.

But it was stronger than him. His footsteps lead him down the carpeted hall to Buffy’s room, and his hand shook slightly as it lifted to touch the cool brass doorknob. Spike desperately tried to reason himself – this was pure madness. Buffy would likely stake him without leaving him time to explain like Dawn had.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the doorframe. It felt almost as though she was waiting for him on the other side, waiting, aching for him as he did for her.

Don’t, he thought, but his hand had already turned the knob.

Buffy was lying on her back, the sheets thrown back from her body, her hair fanned out on the pillow.

Spike watched her, filled with exultant relief, as if he’d finally laid down a terrible burden he had been carrying for years. But at the same time, he was well aware of the gravity of the situation. Seeing her only made him realize that no amount of distance or time would help – his love for Buffy was intact. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered, and he had never wanted her more.

He stepped closer, slowly stretching out his hand as if he could grasp at a lock of her hair, or brush her cheek, without waking her up.


***************************************


“I’m here.”

Buffy clutched the white sheets to her chest and looked around her, but again, she saw only darkness.

“Spike? Where are you?”

“I’m right here, love. So close that I could touch you.”

She breathed in sharply, taken with a strange sense of panic. “I can’t see you. Why can’t I see you?”

“You have to wake up and open your eyes.”

Buffy shifted on the mattress and struggled to emerge from her dream, battling with the thick brocade of sleep to take hold of her senses.

She felt the barest touch on her cheek and her eyes shot open.

She scrambled up, glancing around her room. It was empty and dark, just like in her dream. She felt around for her light switch, needing some proof that she was really awake.

The light came on and she squinted. It was then she realized her door was open.

Oh my god…

The touch hadn’t been a dream. And perhaps Spike hadn’t been either.